State law in Hawaii makes it illegal for a parent to "physically abuse" their child. But the law also provides that parents may use appropriate force if it is related to helping the minor, as long as it doesn't cause serious injury or extreme pain. But, at what point does corporal punishment become abuse?
According to the Hawaii Supreme Court, hitting your 14-year-old daughter with a backpack, a brush and the plastic handle of a tool is all okay. In a 3-2 decision last week, the court overturned a jury's verdict that convicted that girl's mother of child abuse.

"People feel very differently about using force for parental discipline," said Deputy Public Defender Deborah Kim, one of the mother's lawyers on the appeal. "Some people would never hit a child, but for other people, it's necessary."

In reading the details of the case, it seems obvious to me that this mother was angry, frustrated and probably felt like she was losing control of her daughter, who clearly needed some discipline. She is quoted as saying "It was wrong, but I did it for a purpose. I just wanted the best for my daughter."

Earlier today, Roger posted a story about a reader who witnessed a mother hitting her young child. That story made all of us sad for that child. But the fact that what she did is probably legal makes me mad. In my experience, parents who strike their children are almost always doing it out of anger and frustration. That's not discipline, that is loss of self-control. And to those who would say that an out of control teenager is a whole different animal, I would agree. I have been there and done that - and never resorted to hitting.

Back before I had kids, when I had some time for myself, I swam a mile every morning for exercise. Okay, I did it purely as an excuse to be able to sit in the hot tub afterwards. But it was good exercise anyway. A lot of people did the same; there was a regular crowd of swimmers (and hot tub denizens) that I saw each morning, many of whom swam the same distance as I. They were, however, all adults.

Ella Stuttard, on the other hand, is five years old. And, she can swim a mile. Using a combination of the breaststroke and backstroke, she completed her mile in a little over an hour. For a first time effort using those strokes, 67 minutes is a pretty darn good time. And at that age, it's downright amazing. Keep in mind that relative to her height, a mile for her is like two miles for the rest of us.

Her mother, an interior designer, is understandably proud. "I can't believe she has done it at five years old - it is unbelievable," she said. "I wouldn't force her to do anything she doesn't want to do but she loves swimming - I can't get her out of the water." Ella started taking swimming lessons at 16 months and immediately took to the water.

"I thought I would be pushing Ella making her do the half-mile but she looked so strong I wanted to try her with the mile," said her swim teacher, Yvonne Grant. "The fact that she did it in just over an hour makes it doubly impressive. I think we've got a champion in the making here - to get her into the Olympic team would be the ultimate dream."

Swimming is fantastic exercise and loads of fun. It also opens the door to a lot of other activities, including scuba diving, river rafting, canoeing and kayaking, and so on. While generally speaking, I would say that no kid is safe alone around water, I suspect this is one child that is unlikely to drown any time soon. Congratulations to young Ella!

Friday night is usually movie night in our house. Ellie gets into her pajamas, sets herself up on the couch with a pillow, blanket and popcorn, and watches whatever DVD Netflix has delivered that week. But this past Friday was no ordinary movie night - it was the premiere of High School Musical 2. This involved a party at a friend's house, where about 10 little girls stared open-mouthed at the television while Sharpay, Troy and the rest of the East High gang danced and sang their way through their latest teen drama.

Apparently, we were not alone in planning our Friday night around the sequel to the hugely popular High School Musical. According to CNN, High School Musical 2 was the most-watched basic cable telecast of all time. 17.24 million people tuned in, beating the previous record of 16 million who watched an ESPN football game in September of 2006. Is anybody surprised?

The movie broke a few other records as well, but let's get down to what really matters. Did the kids like it? Of course they did. Short of killing off Gabriella or shaving Chad's hair, there was just no way this wasn't going to be a hit. Not that the producer's care what I think, but I thought the musical numbers were way too long and most of the actors weren't very good at lip-synching. Or acting. The ending was a little too convenient and what is the deal with Ryan and those ugly hats? Ick.

What I did appreciate about the film was the fact that none of the girls were super-skinny. Of course, most of the actors are impossibly good-looking, but at least they looked like normal-sized kids - not emaciated stick figures in high heels. Do you suppose that was intentional on the part of Disney?

Of course, Ellie and her friends thought the movie was fantastic. I've already been subjected to one and a half more viewings and we've only just begun. What did you think about the movie? Are you looking forward to seeing it a million more times?

As much as I like to joke about how looking after a large family would drive me insane, I secretly fantasize about having more kids. I think it'd be a blast to spend my days chasing after multiple rug rats.

But I'm not sure I could handle 78. That's how many children Daad Mohammed Murad Abdul Rahman has with 15 wives (and ex wives -- local law says he can only have four wives at a time, so he has to keep divorcing the old ones to continue marrying).

And he's not done. Abdul Rahman says he's on the lookout for new brides -- women with whom he plans to father an addition 22 children, bringing him to the grand total of 100. The 60-year-old figures it'll take another 3 wives, and 8 years to make that dream a reality.

The enormous family apparently lives in 15 houses, supported partially by their father's military pension and with money from the local government.

I'm not sure I agree with Mr. Abdul Rahman's century scheme, but I can't help but wish him luck in achieving it.

Apparently, people have been chewing gum for 5,000 years. Or at least that's how it appears -- considering Sarah Pickin, a UK college student, found a piece of gum from the the neolithic period.

Granted, it's not like it was a piece of Wrigley Spearmint. Pickin discovered a lump of birch bark tar that some ancient person had been chewing on. According to her professor, neolithic people used it to fight off infection, as the tar has antiseptic qualities.

Regardless, it sounds like the archeology student is well on her way to a promising career. I'm hoping her next discovery is some ancient cave drawings of neolithic people who blow gum bubbles, only to have the bubbles explode, forcing them to clean the sticky goo out of their hair with peanut butter.

It could happen.

In addition to the insane amount of money you're paying for room and board, college textbooks are a significant expense -- sometimes thousands of dollars per semester. While you're always going to pay through the nose for textbooks, the prices your campus bookstore is charging are probably far too high. Think of it like buying popcorn and soda at the movie theater instead of sneaking in your own -- you don't need to pay big mark-ups like some sucker.

There's a couple ways you can avoid this price gouging. Firstly, look online. The Internet has everything, and often at a reduced price. Sites like Amazon, or Half.com, are easy to search by author, title or ISBN#, and let you purchase used books in "Like New" or "Good" condition for way less money than you'll spend at the store on campus.

But before you do that, find out whether you need the book in the first place. I remember watching a professor I befriended in college looking up titles on Amazon that he'd read (or he was "pretty sure" he'd read), so he could list them as background reading material for one of his classes. While I'm sure the books were useful reads for anyone interested in the class he was teaching, there was no way those books were going to come up in class. You'll find other professors who, as required by the university, will list a textbook, only to leave it untouched for the entire semester.

For more on how to better navigate the college experience, check out CollegeSoup.net -- I wish I'd known about this when I was in school!

I don't know if kids still play four square at recess. I know they did lo those many years ago when I was in elementary school. It seems, however, that it is making a comeback, not in the school yard but in corporate offices in Silicon Valley. Long known for it's outside-the-box thinking, high tech startups are returning to the box -- four of them, in fact -- to stimulate cooperation, creativity, and productivity.

Companies such as Meebo (an internet messaging software company), LinkedIn (a professional networking site), and SimplyHired (a job search website) have embraced the sport and made it part of their corporate way of life. "I know I am personally not capable of sitting down at a desk and being productive all day," said Meebo's 28-year-old co-founder, Seth Sternberg. "Four square gets you up and moving."

I've worked at two companies that had ping-pong tables set up, one of which later went on to add a pool table. One company had a nearly office-wide obsession with Tetris for a while, with everyone staying after work to play. To keep that youthful spirit going, four square seems like the perfect choice for a corporate sport.

It seems that the ingenuity of kids wanting to get around the rules is still alive and well. Whatever new technology comes along, kids will put it to use to get into trouble. Take pre-paid "credit cards", for example. Sometimes called "cash cards" or "gift cards", these have become very popular for gift giving, lately. The recipient is able to get what they want for a gift, rather than getting what a well-meaning but clueless friend or relative thinks they want.

Both Visa and Mastercard offer such cards and highlight the fact that they are accepted by any merchant that accepts traditional credit cards, online and off. The problem, however, is that it's easy enough for kids to get hold of these cards opening up a world of adult pleasures to them. A recent investigation in the UK found that children were easily able to obtain the cards on their own, purchase restricted items such as liquor and adult videos, and gain access to pornographic and gambling websites.

Visa prefers to focus on the positive aspects of the cards. "They introduce children to the financial world, start to teach them about financial discipline," said a spokesman. I'm not sure there's any way to solve the problem, other than to make sure parents know what their kids are ordering.

Good morning Hudson. Today you turn five. While we very much celebrated your birthday with your favourite friends and cousin at Canada's Wonderland this past Saturday, this will be the ode that you will maybe never read, maybe never hear, but something I need to do.

I love you.

I have uttered these words many times, to few people, but never more do I feel the depth and density of the feeling than I do with you. You, with your curly locks, and missing tooth, and misplaced anxiety, and neverending sweetness, teach me something about my own life every day. You remind me of the wonder of bugs, and blades of grass, and clouds that look like open-mouthed dragons. You force me to stop, to crouch while creaking, and analyze a parade of ants working together to take an apple seed back to their hill.

You hug my neck, or thigh with such random ferocity, that I go and do the same to Steph, or to Tasman, or my own father, because sometimes people need to feel love for no reason. These are just the splashes of goodness that you have taught me in the hopefully brief time we have spent together.

And oh what a time. We have climbed in ancient forests and swam under waterfalls in Fiji. I watched you don a snorkel and mask at three years old to watch clown fish and sea turtles swim beneath your feet at the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. I watched you surf, when I could not, forcing your tears down as long as you could, until crashing gently into the sand. I watched you eat an iceberg, on a glacial lake at the base of Mt. Cook in New Zealand.

My favourite moments are of course the simpler ones, the sit-a-minute cuddles after I have put you down for the night. The morning moments where I wait, dressed in my uncomfortable work clothes, for your bedroom door to open so I can smell your bed head for just a few moments before you wave me goodbye from our front door.

I love feeling proud of you for writing your name, or counting to thirty, or the first time you jumped off the dock without your life jacket, your face such a great mix of fear and excitement, recognizing your own accomplishments, your own sense of pride.

I love that you are my friend, reminding me to temper my frustration with Tasman, because he is only a baby, he doesn't know any better. I love that you accept your brother, who you watch out for, and tell him you love him even when you think we are not listening from the front seat of the car. I love that you need your mother, and treat her so well, ever aware of her feelings, your desire to make cards, or other crafts just so you can watch her beam with her own swollen pride. I love that you are the sweet kid, even if it's at the sacrifice of some healthy aggression, and that all the kids invite you to their b-day parties, even the girls. I love and envy the simplicity of your life, the emotional range triggered by such small events, it's all so real, so honest, so wonderfully five years old.

So good morning Hud, today will feel normal after such a whirlwind of a birthday weekend.

It will not be as normal to me, away from you, thinking of you, and how five years ago today I became the man lucky enough to be called your father.

Happy Birthday to my sweet beautiful boy Hudson.

For many of us with teen age or young adult children, we often fear that our growing children would rather do anything than spend time with us. I have talked to some parents who believe their teens prefer video games or movies to time spent with the family. However, according to a recent poll this is not quite the case. In a recent survey conducted by MTV and The Associated Press, nearly 1,300 young people, ages 13 to 24, replied to 100 questions regarding their personal happiness. The results were rather surprising. It wasn't the things or activities that made this demographic happy, it was the family time. A close second to family time was spending time with friends or significant others.

This survey is a relief to many of us with teenagers. It is sometimes easy to believe that with this age comes the cold, hard fact that we are no longer needed in our children's lives. Do you have a teen? If so, does he/she enjoy family time?

Remember when Fed-Ex and Britney were still together? I know, it seems like ages ago, but you might recall that everyone felt sorry for Britney, because she was married to a low-life womanizer who was always off partying in Vegas instead of staying home with the kids.

Ring any bells?

Recently the tables have turned, and Britney's assumed the role of drunken lunatic while K-Fed keeps telling everyone he wants full custody of the kids -- you know, because he's "matured."

Apparently all that pretending was just too much for the world-famous baby daddy. He was spotted in a Las Vegas night club over the weekend, drinking vodka and Jagermeister straight from the bottle, and making nice with the ladies on the dance floor.

Not that parents shouldn't be able to go out and have a good time when the kids aren't around, and -- even if he does party once in awhile -- Mr. Federline still seems far more responsible than his off-the-rails ex wife. But we might want to wait a minute before naming him Father of the Year.

Just sayin'.

One of our readers wrote in recently to ask what others would have done in a situation in which she found herself. She was at a restaurant and had to visit the ladies room. She describes what happened next: "On the way I passed a table where a child I would estimate at about 1 year old was crying. While I was in the bathroom stall I heard the door open and someone (assuming the mother) enter the restroom with the crying child."

"Then I heard a loud 'slap' and the child started crying harder," she writes. "I was in shock and tried to convince myself I did not hear what I thought I did. When I came out of the stall the mother was comforting the crying child, and then, as I was drying my hands she slapped the crying kid again." Naturally, she got upset and fled the bathroom with "tears running down my cheeks."

She didn't say anything to the mother or to the staff of the restaurant, but now wishes she had. She wrote to ask what others would have done in that situation. To complicate the issue, there was also the case of a woman beating her son in a Wal-mart when shoppers called the police, but that was, I think, a clear case of illegal abuse. The restaurant incident was not likely illegal and there are some who would even say it that it was acceptable.

Perhaps I should disclose, at this point, that we don't spank or hit the kids (although there are plenty of times I've thought about it!). I was spanked growing up and while it didn't seem to accomplish anything, it did convince me I didn't want to spank my kids. Now, I probably would have said something, because that's the sort of pushy, think-about-the-kids, don't-care-about-grown-ups kind of person I am, but as one our team members pointed out while we were discussing this, that might have led to more serious repercussions for the kid at home.

Another team member suggested acknowledging the parent's frustration first -- "It can be so hard sometimes" -- as an opening to pointing out that there are other, better ways to handle issues. I'm not sure there is a right answer. Still, I'll throw the question out there -- what would you have done? Would you have said something or would you have let it go?

I have long believed that there is no shape more graceful than the circle. Be it a full circle or just an arc, the lines are beautiful. Toss in the beauty of a baby and you have the perfect composition for a lovely picture. I love the way this little guy is looking somewhere off to our left. What is he looking at? Has he just recently learned how to wave? Whatever the case, this is a wonderful moment. Thanks to "Rawr" for sharing this moment with us at Image of the Day.

If you'd like your own picture featured here, simply upload photos into our group Flickr Pool - We'll select an image every day to highlight. Remember: we're on the lookout for shots with interesting backgrounds, cool angles, or original composition. Be sure to read the intro on the main Flickr page for more information and limit your uploading to 5 photos per day.

There is a great article on New York Magazine's website (and in print) about blended families. More precisely, the article introduces us to several of these families and how they deal with that annoying--no, offensive--question of whether the parents love their adopted children as much as they love their biological children.

Amy, a very good, long-time (as in, yikes, high school) friend of mine and I were eating dinner last Wednesday when she mentioned the article. I was so flabbergasted by what she told me that I had to read it for myself. See, my friend is adopted, so everything we discussed about the article had to do not only with the adoptive families interviewed (as well as high-profile blended families like Brangelina) but with her own experience.

Amy's point of view, being adopted herself with a sister who was born to her parents later in life, is that, uh, yes, you can. My point of view is that people should stop asking that frickin' question. It's offensive and rude and ridiculous. It's questions like that one that insult me, for her sake, and for the sake of every parent and child out there.

But, don't take my word for it--check out the article yourself. It's great reading. You'll love meeting the different families and learning about how they make having a big family in the metro area work.

It's the day before my son's second birthday, and I am sitting at a bar stool of a pub in the city I have abandoned, a newspaper in front of me and my old friend Al across from me, regarding me with kind eyes.

"How are you, Goose?" he asks, and he means it, and his generosity makes my eyes prick; I busily fold the paper and focus on a breezy gossip page.
"I am OK," I tell him, and I half-mean it, if I suppress the fact that I will miss my son's official entrance to toddler hood - that on his second birthday he will be with a lost part of the family that has broken off, melted away from me.

I am a fish out of water here, in a place where I worked for so many years, hung out with friends at for so many more. I have come by for a half-pint, to say hi to Big Al, to get out of my dark hotel room and find some freedom, just for half an hour. But it's becoming evident that a woman alone on a bar stool with a paper and a pint is a prime target for half-drunk sports teams and lonelier patrons, and the empty seat next to me fills quickly.

"She hates rugby players,"Big Al warns the young man,"And she's too smart for you."

I smile, but I have to admit I am grudgingly enjoying the attention. I never get it when I'm with Nolan, and though a relationship is farther from my mind than speaker grinding in Vegas, sometimes I miss males -- ones that can talk in full sentences, even if a little slurry.

"What do you do?" the young man next to me asks, and I tell him, and he presses for more information: my passions, what I do for fun.
"I read, run, write,"I say, watching his body language,"Watch the birds with my toddler."

Though obviously initially keen, I watch as his body language shifts and he starts looking past my head for a more marketable opportunity.

It's fine, of course, toddlers aren't sexy and I have no intention of letting anyone into my life anytime soon. But it's disconcerting to watch myself plummet from a 9 to a 3 upon mention of the number one priority in my life.

I finish my pint, fold the paper, and tell Big Al to come visit me soon. I leave my old haunt without looking back, shocked at the place where life has led me. I realize fully that life is a continuous chain of surprises, and even when you know that, it's still surprising.