toddler

She didn’t wean herself. There was no gradual decline in the frequency of nursing sessions, no mounting interest in outside activities, no moment of clarity in which she realized she didn’t need breastmilk. She would NEVER NOT NEED BREASTMILK. Breastmilk was the literal source of life for her.

And so, because I love my child, I am doing the thing I swore I’d never do: planning a princess party for my daughter. I am doing the thing that will make her happiest. I am helping her embrace her femininity by letting her be nothing other than who she wants to be.

We’re trying to raise him with a lot of options and very few assumptions, but I won’t be mad at you if you call my kid “handsome little boy” or something. It’s fine. People have a hard time talking about babies without gendered labels. Even I have a hard time with it, and I’ve put a kind of ridiculous amount of energy into analyzing this stuff.

However, I do have one favor to ask. Please, for the love of everything that is good in this world, stop calling him “little man.”

Studies have shown that teaching kids the actual terms for their private parts — instead of cutesy nicknames — decreases their chances of being targeted by a sexual predator. Their words are their weapon, whether they know it or not.

There are few things in life more jarring to a toddler than the loss of a beloved toy. And there are few things in life more jarring to a parent than having to cope with the COMPLETE FRICKING HYSTERIA that results after the loss of said beloved toy.

In today's ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME news: Topless toddlers.

From the mouth of babes—at least this one—comes golden drops of glinting wisdom.

Here's what happens when a little afternoon delight dancing goes awry.