In case you missed the Staples ads, back-to-school season has come. Do the following comments sound familiar?

• “My son was out of the class more than he was in last year. I’m really nervous about this coming year.”
• “First grade! She’s a baby. How can they put her behind a desk!”
• “Middle school is so different. I’m nervous my son won’t be able to handle it.”
• “My daughter thrives in camp. Why can’t school be more like camp?”

If this is what parents are saying, we can only imagine what our children are feeling about going back to school. How can we, as parents, help our children have a successful and happy school year? What does it even mean to be successful? And, by the way, remind me: Why are we doing this to our kids – again? Torture is banned in all first-world countries.

Shavuos is the second of the three great regalim, yet it seems like the stepchild of the holidays. How can Shavuos, a short two days at the cusp of summer, compare to mighty Sukkos and Pesach, which require great exertion and expensive purchases?

On Shavuos, things are rather optional. It is a minhag (custom) to decorate with flowers, a minhag to eat dairy, and a minhag for men to learn all night. One visit to the supermarket and we’re set. If we want to get fancy, we can spend the week preparing dairy delicacies that contribute thousands of calories to our meals, though they are but tangentially related to the Yom Tov. While we have hopefully spent the last 49 nights counting the Omer, even if we missed a few or all of the nights, Shavuos is observed in the same way.

How can we appreciate Shavuos without the efforts and sleepless nights of the other Yamim Tovim? Megillas Rus, which we read on Shavuos morning, can help. Hidden within the story is the key to the spiritual growth available on this holiday of the giving of the Torah.

A friend asked me what seemed to be a simple question: “How did you find the time to write a book?” I had a 375-page book on the topic of eishes chayil (a woman of valor) on the way to bookstores, and I had posted a snapshot of it for my friends to see.

I wanted to answer, “It was nothing; let me also show you this gorgeous chocolate dessert I whipped up while working on it. Oh, and did I show you the pictures of my boys in their matching outfits?”

Accomplishments are supposed to look easy. But the question struck me. How did I write a book? Me: mother, wife, friend. How did it get done in between Yom Tov cooking, laundry, and siddur plays? The questions sent me on a 14-year nostalgic tour.

I was avoiding work by reading articles online when I saw a link to a parenting article. I clicked, I read, and I sighed. I felt sad as both a teacher and parent.There is a new parenting paradigm out there meant to address “helicopter parenting.” These are the parents who constantly hover over their children, placing extremely close attention to all their experiences. The new paradigm is called “no-rescue parenting.” The writer of the original blog post that coined the phrase was featured on a segment of the “Today Show” and received a lot of support.

At its core, no-rescue parenting seems to make sense. If a kid forgets something, rather than rushing in to save them from consequences or discomfort, the parent stays home. Forget your cello at home and today is band practice? Too bad, too sad. Forget a notebook? Oh well, next time you will remember.