Thank you. My faith in parents has been restored.

I was beginning to think that all 21st-century children were growing up tethered to electronic toys from birth, cutting their teeth on Baby Einstein videos and graduating from diapers straight to Gameboys – and that parents today popped techno-gadgets into toddler hands the way we once popped pacifiers into their mouths.

So it was heartening to hear the response to "Raising Slow Kids" (March 1 Citizen), and to learn that there are plenty of parents out there who are members of the resistance. Moms from Sandston to Short Pump wrote about the constant struggle to unplug their kids – and about their belief that doing so is better for them.

We just got back from a week-long trip to Orlando, Fla.

The kids had a blast, but my husband and I would be content if we never visited another amusement park for the rest of our lives.

On the third or fourth day of our “vacation,” we knew ourselves to be trapped in some sort of amusement park purgatory. Similar to Sisyphus, forced to endlessly push a boulder up a hill only to watch it roll down again, we were compelled to forever push a stroller and herd two other children through a maze of people and attractions, to stand in long lines only to ride neck-jarring roller coasters, to stand in long lines to buy expensive but poor quality food, to wait
in long lines and pay ridiculous amounts of money just to park our over-priced rental car.

By now most of you have heard of the slow food movement – the growing trend to support local farms and foods and sustainable growing methods.

I’m all for the slow foods movement, but I believe there’s another national treasure – yes, even more important than food – that could benefit from a slowdown.

I say it’s high time we start a slow kids movement.

I’m not advocating that we raise kids who aren’t bright. I mean we should raise them the old-fashioned way, with access to less technology and fewer gadgets.

Senseless chatter is my new pet peeve.

Even as I set foot from my bedroom in the morning, I am subjected to the verbal pull of my children. Always a chipper early riser, my 11-year-old son seats himself at the kitchen island and proceeds to talk at (not to) me.

As he monologues, I feel my brain sluggishly turning about, still covered up and dreaming. I respond zombie-like as I try to get breakfast on the table, but it doesn’t deter him from talking a blue streak about anything that comes to mind: a rabbit warren he’s designed, a Mario strategy he’s perfected, a koala’s receding habitat, his top-five favorite fish (not mammals) that live in the sea.

Forgive me, readers. It’s been six years since my last confession, by which I mean a column for the Henrico Citizen.

I took some time off from column-writing to pen a novel, never believing it would be published. But the historical novel, entitled The Outer Banks House, was published by Crown in June of 2010.

I made the whole business look too easy, I’m afraid, for now my eleven-year-old son believes that he too will be a published author, most likely in the next couple of years.

This issue, our final of Henrico County's 400th anniversary year (and this newspaper's 10th year), also concludes our yearlong series profiling the most significant moments in Henrico's illustrious history.

Were you surprised by some of the events on our list? Did you learn about some that were unfamiliar to you? We hope so. Did you disagree with some and agree with others? That's ok, too. This endeavor was designed not only to celebrate the county's past turning points and momentous occasions but also to generate discussion among readers and members of the community about the county, its past and how these events and others have shaped our future.

As the Henrico Citizen enters its second decade, I can’t help but spend time looking backward and reminiscing about the first.

Not only is it fun to recall our early days from a “look how far we’ve come” perspective -- remembering, for instance, how I played “papergirl” and rode my bike around Lakeside tossing copies of the Citizen’s first issue (Sept. 20, 2001) into driveways; it’s also satisfying to think back to the memorable stories I have covered -- stories that have moved me, changed me, and introduced me to unforgettable people.

It’s people, after all, who make the Citizen a paper that people want to read.

The Henrico Citizen turns 10 years old with this issue – a reality that amazes me for conflicting reasons.

Has it really been 10 years?

Has it only been 10 years?