Many of you will be saddened to hear this, or at least slightly nostalgic. Bill Melendez, who voiced the Peanuts character Snoopy, has died. Melendez, who was also in charge of most of the animation, was ninety-one! He is survived by his wife of sixty-eight years and two children.

The mustachioed man may not have been known by many in person, but we all knew the voice of our beloved Snoopy. Whether portraying the Red Baron or Charlie Brown's best friend (besides Linus), Snoopy was honestly the most adult of the Peanuts characters. He also lent his talents to the Met Life insurance company.

Melendez was a true talent, being both Oscar-nominated and an Emmy winner. He was set to celebrate his ninety-second birthday in November. He is responsible for animating A Charlie Brown Christmas, and my personal favorite cartoon ever, It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

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Dallas, Texas student Dalton Sherman gave the keynote address at this year's kick-off for his local ISD. It's not unusual for students to address the district during the back-to-school kick-off, a pep rally of sorts for teachers and staff. But Dalton Sherman is anything but typical.

He starts off his speech with the line, "I believe in me. Do you believe in me?" He goes on to tell the entire 17,000-person audience that for him to succeed, he needs them to believe -- believe in him, in his hopes for success, in themselves, in each other, in their work as educators. It really is an amazing speech, and as an educator, it brought tears to my eyes.

But is it a message that's only important for teachers? Surely kids do need educators to believe in them. But as I watched the end of Dalton's 8-minute speech, I started to pretend that he was talking to me as a parent. And you know what? The message is the same. As we send our kids off to school this season, it's also important for us as moms, dads, and caregivers to believe our kids, in their hopes for success, in ourselves, in each other, and in our work as parents. Thanks for the reminder, Dalton.

To learn more about this remarkable kid, see coverage of his big speech at Dallas News.





(via Supersisters)

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Children born to men who are older than the ripe old age of 30 are more likely to suffer from bipolar disorder, according to a new study. The results of the study, published in the Archives of General Psychology, suggest that the risk increases as the age of the father increases. Bipolar disorder is more commonly known as manic depression. Symptoms of the disorder include periods of extreme happiness offset by mood swings of severe depression and hopelessness.

The reason for the connection? According to Emma Frans of Sweden, who led the study, it could be that older men have more degraded sperm. The Swedish research team used a national medical registry of 14,000 who had the disorder along with five people without the disorder for each person in the registry to uncover the connection. After factoring for the mother's age, the results indicated that those with fathers over 30 had an 11% increase in risk and those with fathers as old as 55 had a 37% increased risk. Frans was quick to point out that the results shouldn't keep older men from fathering children all together, but that they should be aware of the increased risks.

Older fathers have also been linked to autism and schizophrenia.

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It's 6:00 on a weeknight -- do you know where dinner is? Or where your sixth grader's homework is? How about the clean laundry? Or your sanity?

Weeknights can be a nightmare, especially when the kids are in school, because suddenly there's so much to get done and so little time to do it. And if you're trying to get it all done at the end of a long work day, it can be even harder. So how do you keep your weeknights from becoming one big blur of not getting things done? By using your weekends wisely, of course.

Take a minute to think about what causes you the most stress during the week: the cooking? the laundry? the homework? Use the weekend to get ahead, if it's at all possible. Cook big meals and freeze leftovers, or shop for easy-to-assemble meals that you can pull together in less than 20 minutes. Get all the laundry done and put away, and identify what it is that you're running out of during the week; if everyone is always out of underwear by Wednesday, for example, it might be time to buy everyone some more underwear.

For things that can't be done ahead -- homework, for example -- create a routine and stick to it. Have kids sit at the table and do their work while you assemble dinner. If your kids are at after care or with a sitter after school, start the evening by looking through their homework to make sure it's all done. Create a specific place in your house for kids to drop notes and forms that have to be signed and returned; check this space every day and deal with things as they come in.

Finally, make a commitment to sit with your kids and hear about their day. The laundry can wait, we promise.

Last week, we asked if you had any special back-to-school traditions in your house, anything you did to make that first day special for your child. This week, though, we're curious about a different kind of back-to-school tradition: how do YOU celebrate the first day back? Do you meet friends for breakfast, or for a long-postponed walk? Do you run that long list of errands you've been storing up for a day when the kids didn't have to come with you? Do you do something special with younger kids who aren't yet in school? Or do you just go home and enjoy the silence?

I'm having a manicure this week, to celebrate both the fact that the pool is closed (no more sunscreen all over my hands!) and that my kids are back in school (no one asking for a snack ten minutes after my nails are painted). Mostly, though, I'm just looking forward to a few minutes of being still and silent and spoiled after a busy summer of swimming and playing t-ball and building baking soda volcanoes.

How are YOU celebrating the kids' return to school?

Most machinery works best when kept cool, be it mechanical, electronic, or even biological. Your car's engine has a cooling system that's pretty darn important (he writes with an experienced air) and your computers really belong in an air-conditioned room. So what about that baby factory potential dads have? Shouldn't that be kept cool for best results?

It turns out the answer is a definite yes. What's more, the proliferation of heated car seats is a step in the wrong direction. Sitting in a car to begin with heats things up more than they should be; heated seats increase the problem by a full degree Fahrenheit after just an hour. Them boys be cookin' down there!

So, perhaps the guy who takes public transit to work (and stands so others can sit) is the better choice for father material than the guy stuck in traffic in that fancy new beemer, eh?

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Telegraph has an interesting article about the length of a mom's work day. The average mom, according to a recent poll, has a "work day" of 15 hours, 5.5 of it working at their job and the rest spent grocery shopping, cooking, doing household chores, shuttling kids to school and activities, and caring for their children. Seventy five percent of women reported wishing they had more time to themselves. Don't we all.

The idea here, of course, is that working moms are doing far more than their share and are in desperate need of a break. Honestly, this is something I worry about when I think about going back to work full-time. As a SAHM, I've taken on the bulk of the household responsibilities. Will we be able to balance daily tasks in a healthy way when the time comes for me to go back to the 40-hour work week? I hope so, but I think it will take time.

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There are few things as frightening for a parent as watching their child drive off behind the wheel of a car alone for the first time. In my experience, the only thing that even comes close to that feeling is actually sitting next to your teen as she takes the wheel for the first time.

Hopefully by the time a kid is ready to solo, you've taught them well. They know the rules of the road and the importance of always wearing a seat belt. Unfortunately, a new study shows that many teens are forgetting that seat belt lesson when mom and dad aren't around to remind them, especially when they are in the passenger seat.

The study, conducted by Meharry Medical College in Nashville using data collected by national Youth Risk Behavior surveys, finds that just 59% of drivers aged 16 and older say they always wear a seat belt. That percentage sounds frighteningly low to me, but not as bad as this one: only 42% of teen passengers say they always buckle up.

The numbers regarding teen drivers are scary, indeed. 5,000 teens over the age of sixteen die each year in car accidents in the United States. Of those deaths, 40% are passengers in the car. Teaching your child to buckle up when driving is an important lesson, but clearly not the only one. If you have a kid of driving age, maybe you want to share these statistics with him or her. It sure can't hurt.

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It was a little more than a year ago that I received an email in my in-box from a woman named Kristin. She'd read one of my stories (I think it was an essay about my oldest son Carter's broken leg) and was wondering if I'd like to submit writing samples and maybe begin working for ParentDish.

I told her that I was interested, but that lately, I'd been writing mostly about my son Avery, who has Down syndrome. I wanted to keep doing that, because as a new mom to him, I'd been hungry for such stories. But there were very few places that regularly included these kinds of parenting experiences--often I'd been told they were "too scary" or "depressing."

I remember the phone conversation with Kristin clearly. I said, "I want to do it, but can I write about Avery? I hope it will be okay?"

And the rest, as the saying goes, is history--I've written more than 80,000 words over 118 posts at ParentDish, first for Kristin and then for Susan, mostly about being a mom to a son with Down syndrome.

When I began, I worried about the weekly deadlines. I hadn't been on a similar writing schedule since college. And too, I'd had enough experiences in my life that let me know the world isn't always a welcoming place to a writer, or a mama, or a child with an extra chromosome, and I'd be combining all 3.

I wrote my first columns from our house on a hilltop near a lake. As the months progressed, I found myself writing from a fold-down table in a travel trailer, from a coffee shop with deep, velvet couches, from a McDonald's and a Subway and 2 libraries. Later still, from a wobbly table in 70-year-old log cabin, using a dial-up connection that quit whenever the wind blew. Sometimes I'd have tears in my eyes; other times I'd be laughing. But always, I wrote.

I wrote posts in my head while driving to and from the grocery store; I wrote while watching Sesame Street with the little boys, I wrote on long walks. I even wrote posts in my dreams.

There were stories about fumbling and failing; there were stories about cupcakes and jelly beans and lemonade. I wrote about cooking scrambled eggs and wearing fake diamonds and hanging the laundry out to dry. In winter, we made angels in the snow; in summer, I wrote about heat and smoke and forest fires. The cast of characters included my boys--Carter, Avery, and Bennett--and others, in supporting roles, like frogs, a puppy, fish, and an old cat.

The weekly deadlines became a part of me, and what's more, I came to need them. I needed to hear from you each week--to touch base, to connect, to give and receive encouragement and understanding and support. You've helped me be a better writer; you've helped me see how I can be a better friend and wife and mother too, and I'm so very grateful.

But the boys no longer sleep late--they rise with the sun, with me, and the quiet of the early morning has been replaced by boisterous, happy, wakeful children (and the puppy, who has grown into a spotty dog with an impossibly long, curling tail). The daylight passes too quickly and before I know it, the moon is rising and there are stars to count and wishes to name.

The leaves are beginning to turn, and of course each one must be examined and marveled at, then gathered into a pile to be jumped in, again and again. We have bread to bake and pumpkin soup to make and through it all, I have children to raise.

It's time.

If this column at ParentDish has been a podium, it's time to step away and make room for another voice. Another writer, another family, another mama with her own stories to tell. I don't know how to explain it other than to say it's like the moment when I knew I wouldn't be having any more babies. I held a newborn in my arms and thought, Ah, that's nice. Now where are my boys?

Which is to say, it's time to say goodbye. And thank you, for everything.

Remember when you used to care about fashion -- when you used to know who wore what to the Oscars and the Emmys, and when the arrival of the 25 pound September Vogue was an occasion to be celebrated? You know, back before you had kids and everything you owned had to be machine washable and playground appropriate.

Remember that?

You can still indulge your fashionable side, even if it's just vicariously -- and we've got a great place to do it. Our favorite lifestyle blog, StyleDash, has merged with AOL's style channel, StyleList, to create the Internet's go-to site for all things fashion.

If you're looking for the things you loved at StyleDash, they're all still there at the StyleList blog -- and more great things are coming!

Because even if you've been wearing that same t-shirt for three days (and nights) it's fun to see what's out there in the world of fashion. Hop on over and take a look! You might feel inspired to get dressed. Or at least change that t-shirt.

How would you describe your marriage? Happy? Satisfying? Meh? Does it depend on the checking account balance? Or how the kids are behaving? Or just on the weather? You know, divorce is always an option. And according to Ellen Tien, it is an option that many of us fantasize about on a regular basis.

In an essay titled "She's happily married, dreaming of divorce" originally published in the May issue of O Magazine, Tien describes her own marriage as "Less than bliss, better than disaster." She says that she and her husband "remain if not happily married, then steadily so." In other words, they're not divorced. Yet.

But, she claims, she thinks constantly about the possibility of divorce, acknowledges it as an option. It is just an option she has not yet exercised. In this, she says, she is not unlike other women her age and class -- we are all dreaming of divorce despite the fact that we claim to be happily married.

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Brian Wilson of Beach Boys fame is finding fatherhood the second time around to be a bit different than the first. For starters, he is clean and sober now. Wilson has made no secret of his past struggles with drub abuse and mental illness and his relationship with daughters Wendy, 38 and Carnie, 40 remains strained. "I don't talk to them very much. I used to. I recorded with them at one time, but I don't talk to them a lot," he says.

But these days it seems that Wilson has conquered his demons and with the help of a heavy dose of antidepressants, is back to making music. He is also back to being a dad with wife Melinda Ledbetter, who he married in 1995. The couple have three children - 11-year-old Daria, 10-year-old Delanie and 4-year-old Dylan. But from the sounds of it, 66-year-old Wilson isn't finding parenthood to be all that easy this time around, either. He admits that a house full of kids and pets can be "very loud" and he often escapes alone to walk in the park. "The kids make me feel a little jumpy," he says. "Sometimes I want to get out of the house to get away from my kids but I love my kids a lot. I love my kids. ... Quiet time comes around 10 at night when I go to sleep. It's peace of mind. Things run smoothly at night. During the day, things are more rough."

Wilson's difficulty in dealing with the noise of children probably isn't just due to his advanced age. He has been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type, which often involves auditory hallucinations. Add to that the neurological damage done by the vast amounts of antipsychotic drugs he was prescribed in the 1980's and it is no wonder he's feeling a little overwhelmed.

But still, Wilson says he is a happy man these days. "I'm happier now than I was a year ago," Wilson said recently. "I started exercising and I started eating more of the right food and I started feeling better. I just get up in the morning and say my prayers."

Wilson's new album, That Lucky Old Son, is scheduled for release on September 2nd and will be followed by a tour.

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Despite rumors that their marriage is on the skids, Madonna and husband Guy Ritchie have renewed their vows. According to reports the two resealed the deal this past weekend in a Kabbalah ceremony in Ritchie's native London.

If reports are to be believed, Madge flew her Kabbalah teacher over from Los Angeles to lead the proceedings. The unnamed source went on to say that the pair arrived in gym clothes and changed into white robes before the vows renewal took place, stating they wanted to get through a rough patch in their marriage and make it strong again.

Let's hope if they did hit a rough patch they're working it out. Hard to say why I feel this way, but for a woman who has everything, it seems like Madonna ought to be able to have a marriage that works, too. She may be a material girl and all, but I think she deserves the right to be happy. And if being married is what will make her happy, then I say go for it and do whatever it takes to stay together! Good luck to the two!

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When I was a teenager, I spent a lot of time listening to music, and perhaps even more money on t-shirts from the concerts I attended. I've kept them faithfully over the years. In fact, they've traveled from Kentucky to New York several times and have still remained intact, tucked away somewhere safe for all this time. My husband also have quite a collection of his own that he brought to our marriage. Many of his are tucked away too.

I occasionally wear mine every once in a while, and some of his (his are cooler). For the most part, though, they sit in storage waiting for us to do something with them. Perhaps we hold on to them for nostalgic purposes. Perhaps we keep them in hopes of turning them over to our children one day--at least that's what I told myself upon recent purchases of concert t-shirts from both Police and Springsteen concerts. Maybe then my kids will think I was cool.

But, other than storing and waiting, what is to be done with all those t-shirts? Some have suggested cutting off the fronts and backs and using them to make a giant quilt. That would be very cool. I countered that notion with, hey, why stop at a quilt--you could do throw pillows, the whole nine yards. Others say to sell on e-bay or donate to charity or just use them as rags like the rest of the old t-shirts. Some say, better yet, don't buy them--they're too expensive and just sit in the closet. And that kids won't think you're any cooler for having them (and having kept them all these years).

What did you do with all your old concert t-shirts? Are they still sitting in a pile somewhere or did you come up with a clever alternative to dumping them?

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We almost always have dinner together with the whole family -- Rachel, Jared, Sara, Ezra, and I -- and plan to continue doing so as long as the kids are still living with us. That's the way my folks did it and I think there are definite benefits to sharing a meal together. Of course, there is the occasional exception, but for the most part, we all eat together.

Sometimes, however, that gets a mite tiresome. As much as I love my kids, sometimes I long for adult conversation. Rachel and I talk, but it seems that we invariably end up talking about the kids or other family matters. In addition, we've been together so long (nearly twenty years) and experienced so much together that we're comfortable just being together without talking.

Last night was different. I had dinner with another woman and the conversation was not about whether or not we would take them to the symphony this weekend or when we would get around to clearing out the attic. Instead, we talked of travel and of concerts and of youthful experiences. We laughed, we shared, we had a grand time. We barely even noticed that the kids were there.