The U.S. presidential election in November 2008 marked a new era in our nation's history. With the selection of Barack Obama, Americans knew they were in for a huge change on Pennsylvania Avenue come Inauguration Day. Many people gasped and couldn't believe they were about to witness such an event in their lifetime:

Yes, children are back in the White House.

Now before you say that the outgoing president had twin girls, let me say that doesn't matter. They were older when their father took office, making it highly unlikely that they were going to do anything really fun in the Oval Office, such as roller-skate in the East Room or have water-gun fights like Teddy Roosevelt's brood. (Jenna Bush didn't even have her wedding in the White House gardens. How does one pass up such an opportunity?)

Seven-year-old Sasha Obama and her 10-year-old sister, Malia, are the youngest children to occupy the White House since the Kennedy years. While there's no talk yet of a pony roaming the grounds like Caroline Kennedy's Macaroni, there is excitement over the breed and name of the puppy their father promised to get at the end of his campaign. (Now if the economy gets bad enough, maybe Vice President Joe Biden will buy the girls a more unusual pet in order to divert national attention.)

Of course, the fact of the matter is that it's hard to be a parent, and I imagine it's hard to be arguably the most important political figure in the world. Put the two together, and all I can think is, "AAGH, the stress!" (My husband and I have a hard enough time raising a child and working ordinary jobs. I can't imagine parenting while running a country.) The working-parent guilt must be enormous. How do you say, "I've worked hard enough today on obtaining world peace, do I really need to go read Harry Potter with my daughter now, too?" Then again, as a parent, how do you not?

Not that President Obama will be taking on this challenge alone. He has his wife, Michelle, to share parental duties. His mother-in-law, Marian Robinson, is also set to move to D.C., giving the children some familial consistency (and another pair of eyes watching over the White House china). And then there is the Secret Service. Now here are some people who have their work cut out for them. What kid ever walks from Point A to Point B in an orderly, straight line? No, kids pick flowers along the way. They stop to pat a dog's head, and then spontaneously sprint. Imagine Sasha being invited to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese and her Secret Service agents getting whiplash from trying to keep their eyes on her while she navigates through the tunnels of the play-yard. ("We have a Code Red here. Rosebud has not come down the slide. Alert the . . . wait a minute. Cancel that! She took a detour and decided to jump in the ball pit instead.")

"Rosebud," by the way, is the name the Secret Service selected for Sasha. (Why this has been made public, I do not know.) Her sister is "Radiance," while President Obama is "Renegade" and his wife is "Renaissance." I haven't heard if Grandma gets a code name, but I personally like "Retired." (This is all in stark contrast to what the agents would have chosen for my family. I'm sure my hyperactive son would be dubbed "Ritalin," while his budget-conscious mom would be "Retail," and his channel-surfing father "Remote.")

I think most people will agree that having kids back in the White House will help make for a lively four (eight?) years. I for one am looking forward to watching them grow and develop, as well as entertain us with their youthful exuberance. And while I want to hear the "real" news out of Washington, it doesn't hurt every once in a while to be treated to lighter fare about slumber parties on the third floor, or late-night pizza splurges with girlfriends in the State Dining Room á la Chelsea Clinton.

And kids will help keep our president on his toes. (Remember during the Democratic Convention when Sasha saved her dad when he flubbed about the city he was in?) You might be able to tell the press you've quit smoking, but your daughters are going to rat you out if you really are sneaking one after press conferences.

So excuse our new president if he's a few minutes late to a meeting because Air Force One was late taking off. Perhaps Sasha forgot to walk the dog before boarding. And so be it if Malia interrupts a fleet of reporters interviewing her father so she can retrieve the math book she left on his desk last night that she now needs for school. Parents will cut the Obamas some slack – kids make the White House seem more like a home.