“I’m a hell hound! But a nice one,” my four year old says, referring to a Dungeons and Dragons monster who is literally supposed to be a dog from Hades.
This may seem like an odd exchange, but it’s perfectly normal in our household.
child development
Concocting Potions with Imagination
“Can you get me more water? And soap?” my younger son asked me, holding a small plastic bucket.
“For your potions?” I said.
“Yes,” he replied with all of the seriousness a four year old has going about such things.
Moving Past Blame for my Kids’ Sake
“It doesn’t really matter whose fault it actually is, we need to clean it up together,” I said to my kids, talking about some mess or another. I heard those words come out of my mouth as if I actually believed them. But I did really want to believe them.
I am a blame monster. If there’s blame to put on someone – even myself – I am on the case. I used to think that if you could blame someone for a problem, they would learn their lesson and not do it again.
Problem solved, right? Uh, no.
When Another Mom Reaches Out to You
“I’m laughing cause I read that book. She’s 14 now and she’s okay,” a woman commented to me. She gestured at the book in my hand, an advice book about parenting challenging kids. Absorbed in my own thoughts, it took a second to realize she was even talking to me.
How Time Feels Different as a Parent
“One two three four five six seven eight nine ten!” my three year old counted, touching the pictures in the book as he went.
I blinked. Since when can he count? Did this just happen?
A Boy and His Worm
“We have to tell my dad he can’t buy those worms,” I told my husband, panic rising in my voice.
As we were on the way to a fishing trip, this was a major problem. New plan – obtain white bread for our hooks instead of night crawlers. No worms would be harmed in this outdoors experience.
Normally, my kids are fine with the more gruesome parts of the “circle of life.” They know where meat comes from and we’ve seen deer hit by cars and trains. Worms shouldn’t be a problem.
But this was different.
Applying What We Teach Our Kids to Ourselves
“Mama, [kid’s classmate] told me he was stronger than me,” said my five year old, nicknamed Sprout. “But I’m faster than him.”
“Well, you can tell him that you’re faster than him,” I responded, then immediately regretted it. “Actually, no. That wouldn’t be a good thing to say.” One, I had no idea if my kid was actually faster than the other kid. Two and more importantly, starting a comparison war was going to lead to nowhere good very quickly.
What If We All Had the Confidence of a Five-Year-Old?
“Don’t worry, I’m being careful!” my five-year-old said as he tried to pick up a piece of broken glass off the kitchen floor with his bare hands.
Twitching a few times before getting the words out, I said, “No, stop, don’t pick it up! With some things it doesn’t matter how careful you are – they aren’t safe.”
I wouldn’t recommend anyone pick up broken glass with their bare hands. But his comment made me stop and think.
The Most Important Thing My Five Year Old Taught Me About Writing
“What was your favorite thing today?” I asked my then four-year-old at bedtime. Earlier that day, we had our monthly “special afternoon” together, where we went to an indoor playspace with a giant artificial mountain and stopped at Starbucks afterwards for hot chocolate.
“Getting my journal!” he exclaimed. After hot chocolate, we had picked out a journal for him decorated with smiling sloths. Although he can’t write more than his name yet, he had been telling us stories and asking us to write them down. Instead of pieces of folded paper scattered all over the house, we thought it would be better to write them down in one place.
Hearing this answer warmed my writer’s soul to the core. It was completely unexpected and completely genuine.
Why I’m Taking Parenting Advice from a Cartoon Turtle
“Let’s start school in a year or two. Clearly you’re not ready and you’re not coming back until you are. You think you can do these things, but you just can’t, Nemo!” said a puppeteer holding a cartoon fish. I immediately burst into tears. Heavy weeping wracked my body as I tried to stay quiet.
“Are you okay?” my husband leaned over and asked.
“Noooo,” I whispered between tears. I absolutely was not okay. Because that cartoon fish dad was me and I was him and we were both utterly unprepared for our kids to be starting school.
I did not expect to have a parenting epiphany at Animal Kingdom in Disney World, but there we were. (Although maybe I should have, considering I had one last time we were at Disney World.)