On my son’s 19th birthday, it rained.

It didn’t just rain.  It poured.  Which would be no fun in any circumstance, but we were on vacation at the beach—and Zack had just one more day before we had to put him on a plane back to college.

All day, my husband and I offered to do things for him and with him.  Did he want to go to the movies?  Did he want to go shopping?  Did he want to watch Monty Python DVD’s (we are big Monty Python fans)?  I came in after a run in the rain and said: hey, Zack, let’s go swimming.  I’m wet anyway.  It will be fun.

No, he said.  It’s cold.  I’m going to take a nap.

The rest of us found things to do.  I took two of my daughters to the movies.  My husband took the other daughter and my other son to the bookstore and then to the southern end of the island to look for seals in the rain.  We curled up with books, watched silly TV shows, ate popcorn, played games.

Not Zack.  He moped.

And all day, I was left with a nagging feeling that I should have been able to do something to fix it, to make sure he had a good birthday.  Even if the only thing that would fix it was stopping the rain.  If I were a good mother, I’d figure it out.

Our kids do this to us.  We want so desperately for them to be happy, and as parents we spend so much time doing things for them and helping them.  When there is an obstacle or problem, we immediately get into solving mode—even when the problem is the weather.  Or something else we can’t change, like our child’s height, the shape of her nose, or his basketball ability.

Of course, this doesn’t work.  And yet, like I felt on Zack’s birthday, we feel bad.  We feel responsible.

But we aren’t responsible for changing the weather or physical attributes.  We can’t make our child more popular, either—or secure an acceptance to a particular college.  Our responsibility here is different, and sometimes just as hard: we need to teach our children acceptance.  Not just acceptance, but how to make the most of what life gives you.

After hours of feeling guilty on Zack’s birthday, I finally realized that feeling guilty was absurd.  Enough, Zack, I said.  We are all here doing our best to give you a good day.  We can’t change the weather.  But we will do literally anything else—we’ve made that clear.  Whether you have a bad day or good day is up to you.

He had a bad day.

And that, actually, is another of our challenges as parents: letting go and letting our children make decisions we don’t agree with.  If it’s dangerous decision, we obviously need to step in.  But if it’s not dangerous, and we’ve given our advice and offered our support, we need to step out.  Kids learn from their mistakes as well as their successes.  And ultimately, our children are who they are, not who we want them to be.

The next day, Zack admitted that he acted badly.  “I got into a rut,” he said, and apologized, acknowledging that we’d tried to make him happy.  Which made me hopeful that he’d learned the two lessons I wanted him to learn: that ultimately he is in charge of his own happiness, and that whenever he has a rainy birthday moment, we are happy to bring the Monty Python DVD’s and popcorn.

A law proposed in California would require that social networking sites like Facebook take down content from the profiles of children under 18 if their parents request it.

On the flip side: Mark Zuckerberg, the CEO of Facebook, thinks that more children under 13 should be allowed to join social network sites. He says that they offer educational opportunities, and that children can learn from each other.

So who is right? Should kids be kept off Facebook until they are 18—or allowed on it when they are 8?

I don’t think either one is right.

Parents absolutely have a right to be concerned about their kids being on social networking sites. We hear story after story of cyberbullying. Or online predators. Spending too much time on social network sites can lead to poor grades (from the pure distraction of it) or even depression. And there are practical dangers such as identity theft.

Kids do dumb stuff everywhere, so it’s not surprising that they do dumb stuff online. Earlier this month a 13-year-old from New Hampshire got suspended for five days for saying on Facebook that she wished Osama bin Laden had killed her math teacher. Or—my personal favorite—a couple of years ago, two girls stuck in a storm drain in Australia didn’t use their cell phones to call for help. Instead, they used their phones to update their Facebook status to say that they were lost in a storm drain (luckily a friend saw it and called for help).

But keeping kids off social networking sites misses two important points.

First, kids are going to get onto them no matter what we do. Although the COPPA (Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act) prohibits children from under 13 from signing up for sites that collect information about them, it’s easy to get around that: you change your birthday. And according to a June 2011 survey from Consumer Reports, millions of kids do just that. Of the 20 million minors who use Facebook, 7.5 million, or roughly one-third, are under 13. In fact, 5 million are 10 or younger.

Second, at some point kids turn 18. It’s hard to start teaching them how to behave online when they aren’t obligated to show you anything—and when many are leaving home for college.

Social networking on the Internet has become part of life. And as with anything that is part of life, it’s our job as parents to teach our children what they need to know about it.

It’s hard to teach something you don’t know—so if you aren’t familiar with social networking sites and how they work (especially how privacy settings work), get familiar with them. This may involve signing up for one if you haven’t done so already, so you can try stuff out yourself.

Consumer Reports recommends that parents of children under 13 whose children have accounts with Facebook get those accounts deleted by reporting them (using a “Report an Underage Child” form). If their child is over 13, they suggest that parents have their child “friend” them so that they can monitor what they do online (which does involve signing up, so it will be useful if you have already).

While this is great advice, I don’t think it’s enough (after all, kids are tech-savvy and email addresses are easy to come by, so it’s easy to make a new profile). Here’s what I would add:

Keep the computer in a public place. Don’t let your child escape to his bedroom with a laptop.
• Have limits on screen time (made much easier if the computer is in a public place). Less time online means less time for getting into trouble.
• If your children are on a social networking site, make sure they’re using all the privacy settings they can—and talk to them about making good decisions about who they friend” (it should only be people they know personally and well)
• Most important: talk to your kids about what they should and shouldn’t post online. It’s not just about giving information to predators or thieves. Anything they put there is functionally there forever, and everything can be misunderstood. Help them think through how words can hurt—or what an admissions officer or employer might think about their posts and pictures (this is something that lots of grownups don’t seem to grasp).

For more advice on how to help your child use social network sites wisely, visit the websites of the Federal Trade Commission, the National Crime Prevention Council or the Center for Media and Child Health.

My 10-year-old daughter wants a cell phone. She wants it bad. So bad that the other night I came home to the note pictured below.

(Natasha’s treatise, page 1)

Her three older siblings got cell phones in middle school, when they began to routinely go places without us. But Natasha (who just finished 4th grade) wants one now. So she put together a treatise (you can’t tell from the picture, but it was on really big paper) about why she needs one.

The truth is, she doesn’t need one. She is never really far from us on walks or bike rides. While it might be nice to time pickup from swim practice, we’re actually reasonably good at figuring out how long it takes Tash to shower and get dressed (longer than is reasonable + 10 minutes). If we’re wrong, or there’s some sort of emergency, there are phones at the YMCA she can use.

(Natasha’s treatise, page 2)

This is what I told her the next morning, as she sat on the stool with her arms crossed, scowling at me. And then she burst into tears. “Do you know how hard it is,” she sniffled, “not to have one when all your friends do?”

Of course. The real reason. Cell phones are cool. Tash is all about cool.

According to a 2009 Kaiser Family Foundation report, 31 percent of 8-10-year-olds have cell phones. The numbers have certainly gone up since then. So while I doubt that all of Tash’s friends have a cell phone, I wouldn’t be surprised if a bunch of them do.

So why do I care? We’ve got old phones around the house. We have a family plan, so we’d just have to pay the monthly charge, which isn’t so much.

Here’s why I care. First of all, that same Kaiser report said that the average 7th to 12th grader spends and hour and a half a day texting.

They text during school, even when there are rules against it. They talk and text as they walk (how many times have you had someone on a cell phone walk obliviously in front of your car?). They play games on them, watch TV, or surf the Web. It is a huge distraction. I don’t want Tash distracted like that.

It’s not just the distraction factor.There’s the problem of sexting, in which kids send lewd or suggestive pictures of themselves to each other (which is a felony, as it’s distributing porn). Bullying happens via text.

And now the World Health Organization says that cell phone use is a “possible carcinogen”: the low-level radiation cell phones emit could possibly increase the risk of certain brain tumors. This kind of radiation, if it does damage, does it over years. The earlier you start using a cell phone, the more years of exposure.

We can set rules around her cell phone use, sure (interestingly, very few of the kids in the Kaiser report said that their parents set rules). But these rules are hard to enforce, and it’s hard for me to imagine Tash being careful to hold the phone away from her head.

For some young kids, cell phones truly do improve their health and safety. Kids with chronic and dangerous health problems, like diabetes or bad asthma, can use them to get help quickly. Kids who will be alone for more than brief periods are safer if they can be in touch with a grownup easily. And for various reasons, some families need the ability to be in close contact. In these situations, the benefits outweigh the risks. In Natasha’s situation, they don’t.

I don’t know the right age for giving a child a cell phone. Maybe middle school is too early (more than two-thirds of 11 to 14-year-olds have them). Ultimately, families need to decide what makes sense for them. But as they do, I hope they think about the risks and downsides of cell phones.

We did some serious thinking about those risks and downsides. Sorry, sweetie. You’re not getting one yet.

Sometimes I hear my 5-year-old son say things, or watch him do things, that I’ve been meaning to teach him but haven’t.  I was totally planning on doing it, it’s just that I hadn’t had time yet, or the teachable moment hadn’t happened.  And yet, he knew it already.

His brother and sisters taught him.

I was 42 years old when Liam was born.  He was a surprise baby.  A wonderful surprise, absolutely, one that I am eternally grateful for.  But when he was born, I worried about parenting him.  I am busier than I was when my eldest was born 20 years ago; I now work full-time at a very challenging job.  I don’t have the time that I used to.

Also, I’m a little worn out.  My older children are 20, 19, 14, and 10.  I’ve done so many Halloweens and first days of school and played so many games of Checkers and dress-up and Legos, taken a million (well, okay, maybe not a million, but it feels that way) trips to the pool and the park.  I’ve spent hours and hours teaching safety, manners, safety, potty usage, study habits, and all those other important lessons we parents are supposed to teach.  Would I be able to generate the energy to be enthusiastic about doing it all over again?

I shouldn’t have worried.  Turns out, I have helpers.

“Say please, Liam”, his siblings tell him when he asks for the salt.   “Clear your plate.  No, you have to scrape it before you put it in the dishwasher.”   “Liam, you need to share your toys with our guests.”  “No, you can’t cross the street.  Hold my hand and we‘ll look both ways together.”  It’s everything my husband and I have said, coming out of our children’s mouths.

The other day Liam pointed to a commercial for a TV show.  “I can’t watch that, “ he said.  “Elsa says it’s inappropriate for me.” I almost spit out the water I was drinking.  Elsa was absolutely right about the show, but I couldn’t believe the word “inappropriate” was coming out of a 5-year-old.

It’s not just correcting that they do with him. They taught him to play Checkers and how to boogie board on waves at the beach. They get down on the floor with him and play with his little cars. They celebrate his successes, from potty training to the first day of school to his memorization of Green Day songs (I’m a little less excited about the last, but at least it’s not gangster rap). Liam gets loved and celebrated not just by me and my husband, but by four other people who are just as devoted to him and invested in him as we are.

When you start a family, you don’t really think about it as something that could have a life of its own.  But that really is what happens.  The years of love and lessons and shared experience, mixed with growing unique individuals, build something that is bigger and richer than you could ever predict at the beginning.

Liam isn’t getting the short end of the stick by being the last one.  On the contrary: he is the luckiest of them all.

If you haven’t seen the movie “WALL-E”, you should.

Not just because the robot hero (named WALL-E) is wonderful, but also because the movie is a great cautionary tale.

The movie takes place in the future. Mankind has polluted earth so badly that it is uninhabitable. Everyone took off in a spaceship that now roams space, leaving only robots (like WALL-E) behind. The people spend their days sitting in moving seats, watching huge TV’s, and eating super-sized portions of junk food. They are all incredibly fat, and between their size and the fact that they sit in the moving seats all day, they can barely walk (I know this sounds awful, but it’s actually a happy movie.)

I thought about this when I read an article about the problems babies and toddlers are having because they aren’t getting enough “tummy time.” In part, this is an offshoot of a good thing; because of the “Back to Sleep” campaign, which has cut the rate of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome down by half, babies are spending more time on their backs.

But the other part of the campaign, “Tummy to Play”, hasn’t taken the same hold with the general public. More and more babies spend their days in infant seats or swings. There are infant seats that move right from the car seat to the stroller to the house, so that Baby never has to be picked up. There is an appealing efficiency to this, especially if Baby is sleeping. It’s great for multitasking parents, as it’s much easier to get things done when Baby is happy and you have your hands free.

However, it’s not great for Baby. In my practice I’m seeing much more “positional plagiocephaly,” which is the medical term for flattening of the back of the head—from either laying on the back or having the back of the head pressed against a seat all day. And tummy time is crucial for gaining strength in the neck, arms and trunk—and for learning to crawl, and for interacting with the world. According to the article I was reading, more and more children are showing motor delays and other problems that experts trace back to not having time on their tummies.

This is, I think, part of a bigger, scarier change in childhood. Parents and caregivers are holding babies less. There is less getting down on the floor to play. There is less play in general. Children are spending hours each day in front of screens, whether it’s TV, video games or computers—and we’re seeing obesity and behavioral problems caused by this. Add the supersize portions of junk food (which is already going on in plenty of families), and it won’t take many generations for us to get like the people on the spaceship in WALL-E (and given what we’re doing to the earth, we may just end up on a spaceship).

We need to make changes, and we need to start now.

My middle daughter, Elsa, hated strollers and infant seats—if we tried either one, she’d scream. So we put her in a sling. And as someone who has taken multitasking to places it shouldn’t go, I have to say, the sling was pretty easy, both in and out of the house. I had my hands free, and she was happy. The next two babies went right into the sling.

It is a matter of rethinking our paradigms. Turns out it can be really fun to play on the floor with a baby (if there are older siblings around, get them involved in Baby Floor Fun). And when you turn off the TV and computer, it can actually make life around the house more peaceful and interesting—and lead to more conversations (and interactions in general) with your children.

I’m not saying that it will all be easy. It can take a while for a baby to get used to being on his tummy. Crankiness will likely ensue when children used to watching TV get it turned off—or when children used to junk food don’t get it. But it’s worth it. It’s about their health and their future.

Let’s make sure that WALL-E stays what it is: a fictional movie. Let’s not let it become reality.