I recently eavesdropped on a table of three women I discerned had children close in age to my 11-year-old son, Thorin. They were talking about camp. I had some interest. My son attended two camps this summer and he has another two coming up.

The tone of the conversation changed quickly from lighthearted to somber when one of the moms gravely warned another not to look at the new photos on the camp's Facebook page. Her friend clutched at her neck. "Oh, no," she said. "What happened?"

Feeding children can be a roller-coaster ride. Some days, children cruise along, eating most of what you serve. Then without warning, they take a dive and consume very little. This lasts just as long as you can cope, then they rise through a growth spurt to empty the refrigerator daily, only to plateau before they prepare for another dive.

After months of asking, you took the plunge, and now your kid has a phone. Inevitably, soon after the smartphone comes social media (insert parental scream). For most parents, social media feels scary when they think about their kids using it. Why is it such a potential pit of despair for parents?

It could happen at any time: Eventually, your kids may want their own social media accounts.

"If you have a teen or tween, you should expect them to come home around the beginning of the school year and say, 'Oh, I want to download so-'n'-so,' " said Caroline Knorr, a San Francisco-based parenting expert with the nonprofit organization Common Sense Media.

Yet at what age do most children launch their own social media presence?

A few weeks ago I left my 9-year-old daughter home alone for the first time. It did not go as planned.

As a researcher and writer on the intersection of happiness and technology, I often talk to parents who are concerned about their children’s welfare in the digital era. “Electronics are destroying our children’s imagination,” they say. And I get it—I’m a parent of three young children, and I am also concerned about raising mindful kids who know how to handle the world of digital distraction. But I fear that we, as parents, might be throwing the baby out with the bathwater by rejecting electronics as a way to spark creativity and innovation.

Two decades ago, when I was in the second grade, a substitute teacher asked me to stand up in front of my class and talk about my religion: Sikhism. At 7 years old, I tried to explain it as best I could and avoid being ridiculed. I remember feeling totally unprepared and struggling afterward with the fear of being exposed like that again. At 7, I was already afraid of public speaking.

Susan Wholley bought her daughter her first drink, and she was the person her daughters turned to when they had questions about sex and marijuana.

The hospice worker, tutor and single mother to 19- and 22-year-old daughters, said she loves the open relationship she has with them, where nothing is off-limits.

magine you are 10 years old. You live in a medium-sized city and want to visit your best friend, a five-minute walk away, so you can go to the park, another 10 minutes’ walk. The problem is, there’s a big, dangerous road between you and your friend, and another between them and the park. You ask your parents if you can walk, they say no, and they are too busy to take you there themselves.

A three-year-old boy struggles to thread beads on a string while his older sister watches. She could ignore him or take over the task to get it done quickly. But if she observes him closely, and realizes that he is struggling to hold the string steady, she could offer to hold it for him and praise him for any beads he threads.