This morning my child is insisting on being called Jabba the Hut. One of the most humbling experiences is seeing your child do something objectively odd and recognizing in it something of your own (or your partner's) off-ness.
I’ve landed upon it: The foolproof solution for keeping your children from cursing. As with sex, the answer is not abstinence-only education, which only feeds curiosity and overproduction. The answer, as it turns out, is swearing yourself—early and often—around your children. This appears to breed in them the intuition that swearing—every shit, damn, and fucker—is … Continue reading Swearing
The toddler laid four plastic insects in a row. "Dis Da-ny," they said, pointing to the grasshopper. "Dis Ee-ya," indicating that the cricket stood for their baby sibling. "And dis Mama and Bama." Pointing to the cockroaches. I fear for the teenage years.
Last night while I was making dinner the toddler came in to the kitchen, naked but for a bike helmet. "This for eatin', Mama?" they asked, pulling something small, wet, and brown from their mouth. "No," I replied. "That is rabbit poop."
Last night, my partner and I were bested by a two-year-old and an orange. It’s not that it was Night 9 of self-isolation. We can’t blame COVID-19 for this. Hell, it wasn’t even due to overtiredness or teething or toddler-onset Conduct Disorder. It was just plain old, run-of-the-mill Toddler Behavior, thrown in the face of … Continue reading If you’ve ever had a power struggle