Strollerderby : babble talk

Babble Talk: The Cult of the Bad Mother

Shannon LC Cate — Sat, 30 May 2009 14:30:00 GMT

In her controversial Dispatch this week, Katie Allison Granju wonders if it may be time to re-stigmatize certain parenting behavior. She wonders, "if everyone is a "Bad Parent," then where is the line between reasonable and unreasonable maternal imperfection?"

Most interestingly, she challenges the bad parent confessional on class lines: "The mostly-white, mostly-college-educated mothers (like me) who pen "momoirs" about things like letting their third grader navigate public transportation sans adult supervision get appearances on talk shows. However, a poor, minority or immigrant mother who made the same parenting choice would more likely get a visit from Child Protective Services."

Of course, the concern (expressed by some commenters) that shame was not ever a good thing and should not be revived is reasonable too. Even the worst parent any of us knows may well be fighting uphill battles we don't know. A little discernment and offers of support would probably go further to help a "bad parent's" children in 99% of cases than a heavy dose of shame.

But like Katie, I sometimes wonder if the "Bad Parent" phenomenon has led us to such a relativist state that when we do admirable things for our children, we have to hide them, for fear we're not "bad" enough. And the assumption that doing these admirable things is somehow a judgement against those who don't do them is one of the main ways this problem shows itself.

Every mother who decides to breast feed for a year (or three) is not, per se, a "nipple nazi" judging mothers who use formula. (People who throw the term "nazi" around so lightly? Definitely deserve judgement.) A mother who makes her own baby food is not, per se,"smugly" judging mothers who feed out of jars. (Can we call a moratorium on the word "smug" for six months?) A mother who forbids television is not, per se, a "sanctimommy" judging families that spend snuggle time on the couch watching their favorite shows. (Whoever invented that fake word, is hardly mother-friendly.)

But lately, if you make any of the former choices, like as not you'll feel the need to hide them, lest you be seen as having made your decisions over and against those of your fellow moms. Better you should just go ahead and get the new flatscreen to make sure no one accuses you of being judgemental.

Feed your kid McDonald's all you want. The stuff will never pass my children's lips under my watch (doubtless it will when my back is turned). But you cloth diaper and I'll poison the planet (and possibly my children) with disposables. I can't stand the thought of yet more laundry. I let videos "babysit" my kids for up to two hours a day, some days. But my kids eat less than a teaspoon of refined sugar per month.

The fact is, we all weigh what we value most, what we can let slide, what we can afford, what we need and what we enjoy -- or at least don't mind -- doing and what we loathe doing. And we make our judgements--about how to live our own lives--accordingly.

My kids just do not react well to sugar. It literally changes my older daughter's personality within minutes for very much the worse. In fact, I suspect if she ate a fairly normal amount of it (the amount that doesn't harm most kids) she'd be eligible for an ADHD diagnosis. My younger child doesn't share her extreme reaction, but she doesn't get sugar either, because that wouldn't be fair. If I bring my own snacks to a play date at your house, it doesn't mean I think you're evil for giving your kid cinnamon grahams. It means sugar doesn't work for us.

I made all the baby food for both my kids. I found it easy--even fun--and my kids loved, loved, loved it. The savings helped us spend our money on other things--some "good" like organic groceries, some "bad" like cable television. And it was my call, having absolutely nothing to do with someone else's desire not to spend an extra split second in the kitchen if she doesn't have to. Just like my losing battle with laundry keeps me from cloth diapering.

In a way, I guess I agree with Katie here. When everyone's a bad mother, no one is. Mostly though, I think that's a good thing. There really are very few parents so bad that they deserve to lose their children. But I also agree with Katie that the whole "Bad Parent" thing may be overplayed. Especially when the good things we choose to do for our kids end up making us feel bad--or not bad enough, as the case may be.

Hint: We Really Might Know Our Kids Better Than You

JeanneSager — Wed, 27 May 2009 20:04:00 GMT

The best part of the latest Non-Breeder column on Babble? The author realizes she was being a bit of a tool.

Not that all "non breeders" are bad people. Far from it. But the expectation that they know better than a parent does how to raise their kids runs high among the kid-free crowd.

And somehow, for all our protestations that we might know our kids a little better than they do, comes the insistence that, hey, you can bring your kid out to the bar at 11 p.m. . . . they'll just sleep in their carrier! Or, in the case of Rachel Odell Walker, the insistence that an eight-month-old belongs on a three mile hike (with a 2,000 foot vertical climb).

I won't rip Walker to shreds, because she does that to herself in her essay. She realized she was a bit of a jerk, and she apologized. It happens to the best of us.

Unfortunately, there are plenty of non-breeders who are still stuck in the first half of Walker's essay. They still think we're staying home with our kids because we're Debbie Downer. As Walker says, "I believed she could reverse her negativity and stop focusing focus on difficult things with a mixture of personal will, therapy, and endorphins."

In a way, you can't blame them. If you don't have kids, you don't think about the money it costs to hire a sitter. You don't have to.

If you don't have kids, you don't think about the aftermath of a night out on the town, of getting up at 5 a.m. with our three-year-old when you didn't crawl into bed until 2 a.m. because the child doesn't understand Mommy wants to sleep. You don't think about the conscious decision to abstain from alcohol because you're breastfeeding.

You don't think about the realities of trying to keep a small child occupied and quiet in a restaurant. Or the fact that that small child has a right to NOT be cooped up in a highchair just because Mommy and Daddy want a night out on the town.

It's why so many of us have lost touch with friends we held near and dear before the baby days. It's important that we as parents respect their lifestyles (don't nag on them for not having kids, for cripes sake, and don't expect them to love, love, love our kids every minute of every day), but it's just as important that they get us.

That they GET that sometimes, it's a lot easier for them to come to OUR houses because we don't have to pack the trunk full of a porta-crib, diaper bag, box of toys, etc. just to have a night out. That we aren't being petulant - just realistic. That kids aren't accessories.

The chief criticism I hear for parents from non-parents is that we change our lives too much after the baby comes along. Yes, we change our lives. But how can we not? Because we are now responsible for someone's entire life. Is there any other responsibility so big? For that matter, would you tell an airplane pilot he's being a big party pooper because he opts out on "the fun" the night before he's supposed to fly a plane full of people's lives?

I'm not asking my friends to make major sacrifices just because I have a kid. They can go out and do their own thing, have their own fun on their time. It's true, I had this child; not them. They don't even have to like my child. But if non-breeders value the person underneath the new parent veil, they will realize, if they want time with us, they need to meet us in the middle.

Don't Give Me Your Tired, Your Stained

We're Not Judging You, Pinky Swear

Playdate: Does Your Sitter 'Love' Your Kids?

We're Not Judging You, Pinky Swear

JeanneSager — Fri, 08 May 2009 14:32:00 GMT

If there was any parent who might have taken exception with Kate Haas' piece on being TV free right here on Babble, it was one who penned a piece about letting her daughter watch a heckuva lot of TV.

Yes, that would be me.

Honestly? I loved it. Because while Haas shared all the wonderful reasons her family's TV-free (similar, actually, to my own completely TV-free upbringing), she focused in on something that a lot of parents today just don't get. She doesn't make parenting decisions because she wants you to make the same ones. She makes them because that's how SHE wants to parent.

Imagine that. It isn't about you.

What first attracted me to Babble's Bad Parent column, back before I started writing for the site, was the fact that parents could tell the stories of alternate ways they've found to parent. Not because they think EVERYONE has to do it that way, but because there are too darn many people out there who think it's their way or the highway. Bad Parent has opened up an avenue for really not so bad parents like me (and the dozens of other Bad Parent writers, including several of my colleagues here on Strollerderby) to very simply offer another option. Haas can keep the TV out of the house. I can leave it on all day.

Do we talk about the benefits of our way? Of course! If we didn't think there were benefits, frankly, why would we be doing it? It's why I've shared the story of how I juggle sending my kid to daycare a few days a week and taking her to work with me other days, the reasons I won't use the "v" word with my kid, the reasons I refuse to make holidays into an extended family hell.

Often writing about these choices draws criticism, offering you all a computer-side seat to the so-called mommy wars, where judgement reigns supreme. It happens. As a writer, that's what happens when you share your words with other people. Sometimes, judging people is OK. We all do it.

But a comment on a recent Bad Parent compelled me to answer back for the first time ever. The reader took issue with the use of the word "park." As in parking my kid in daycare.

"Why can't writers explore these issues without insulting those who have chosen differently," she asked.

My question? Why is expressing an alternate opinion an insult? The true mommy wars come from parents who are unable to simply say "eh, they do it that way, I do it my way."

It's a point Haas makes very clear in her essay this week. She's TV-free by choice. She's not walking into other people's homes and yanking out the cord on their idiot boxes. Sure, she'll tell you all the benefits. But at the end of the day, she's not going home to her husband to say "Oh my Gawd, can you believe those people let their kids watch Dora?"

As Haas says, "Believe me, I'm not sitting in judgment. Isn't raising kids hard enough without that?" So why don't you take a gander at some alternate parenting choices over at our Bad Parent Column? You might find some new ideas about how to parent. Or you might just get annoyed.

Babble Talk: When the Kids Take Charge

Jen Chaney — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 12:02:00 GMT

Sure, kids often say cute things. But occasionally, they say wise, caring things, too.

Like this little gem, recently added to the Kids Say the Cutest Things database of adorable comments. Young Max and Sam had this to say to their mother:

"Why don't you take a time out, Mom. We think you need it."

Now, it's highly possible that the 6- and 4-year-old boys were being smart alecks. After previously being told to take time outs for their bad behavior, perhaps they thought Mom did something that also merited a little solo time in the corner.

But I prefer to read that suggestion this way: The boys could sense that their mother was tired and genuinely wanted to give her a break. Has this ever happened to you? Has one of your children looked at you and said, "Mom, take a day off" or "Dad, I think you could really use a nap"?

Personally, it hasn't happened to me yet. But I look forward to the day when it does so I can jump at the opportunity. "Yes, my son! I do need a time out. Why don't I go take one and you can make dinner, respond to some e-mails and entertain yourself for ... oh, say, the next seven hours?"

If your child has ever recognized that you needed to relax, and told you in particularly pithy fashion, let us know with a Kids Say the Cutest Things contribution of your own. But please, only post it after you' ve taken a lengthy time out. I can sense that you need one.

Related Links:

Preschoolers with the Baby Blues

Babble Talk: Taking a Toilet Straight to South America

Babble Talk: Do We Still Judge Women for Having C-Sections?

Jen Chaney — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 16:02:00 GMT

I have had a C-section. So has Tova Mirvis. So have many women. So why do so many of us still feel like we're being judged for it?

That's one of the questions Mirvis tackles in her Babble essay, "In Praise of the C-Section," a thoughtful piece in which she acknowledges the sense of inferiority that can result from having a Caesarean, as well as the need -- however irrational -- to justify one's reasons for doing so.

"When I was pregnant with my third child, I accidentally wandered into a conversation in which two mothers I'd recently met were extolling the virtues of homebirths and water births, midwives and doulas," she writes. "When the well-meaning moms asked about my birth plan, I told them I was having a scheduled C-section. Their faces conveyed self-righteous disapproval and my mind was immediately awhirl in disclaimers: I was having the scheduled C not because I wanted the convenience, not because I was afraid of labor, not because I didn't want to miss my manicure appointment. 'My oldest son would have died if I didn't have a C-section!' I said instead."

Every woman who has a C-section has a different reason for doing so. In Mirvis's case, as she describes in more detail in the essay, she went that route with all three of her children because of complications, including last-minute ones during her first delivery that threatened her son's health. Other moms may elect a C because they've lost, or nearly lost, a child in the past and want to take whatever steps they can to control the process. And still others, like me, have C-sections because there is no other option. My son was breech and few OBs are willing to risk a vaginal delivery under those circumstances.

Are any of these mothers less motherly because of the types of deliveries they had? I may be biased since one of them is me, but I think most would say, no, of course not. But what about a woman confronted by no extenuating circumstances or complications who chooses to have a C because she doesn't want to have a vaginal birth?

Aha, this is where the judgment comes in. Having a C-section when you don't necessarily need one is indicative, to some women anyway, of a lazy, shallow and self-absorbed mother, someone who doesn't have the cajones to do a little pushing, grunting and lamaze breathing. I don't necessarily agree with that, but I can understand where the perception comes from. Elective C-section moms have the same reputation as the boss who takes credit for all of her employees' great ideas: they want to revel in the glory without having to do any of the hard work.

But here's the truth of the matter, something Mirvis wisely points out at the end of her essay: How we deliver our children ultimately has nothing to do with what kind of mothers we are. So maybe we should stop judging the elective (or non-elective) C-section mothers, or feeling guilty for not having vaginal births, or developing inferiority complexes because we broke down and got an epidural. Maybe we should realize that the test of our motherhood really begins once that healthy child arrives on this Earth and in our arms.

As Morvis writes, "If the experience of childbirth is in fact a crucial process, then let it be the process of teaching us that our children will emerge in ways varied and complicated, not necessarily in times or manners of our choosing, neither made in our image nor as proof of our prowess. Let birth remind us that, with children, so little goes according to even the most well-drawn plan."

Well said.

Babble Talk: Taking a Toilet Straight to South America

Jen Chaney — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 12:28:00 GMT

Every once in a while, kids put together a string of words that, in our wildest, most bizarre daydreams, we never could have come up with on our own. Such comments are mere toss-offs to children. But to us adults, they sound incredibly imaginative, hilarious and sometimes borderline genius.

Which brings me to the latest notable quotable from Babble's Kids Say the Cutest Things. Here's the quote, followed by the three reasons why it is brilliant:

A mother reports that her two-year-old Noah said the following while she was attempting to cut his nails, a hygenic necessity he clearly does not care for: ""Mommy, I don't like you. Go away. Go drive to Argentina on the potty."

Now, the three reasons why Noah's comment is so tremendous:

1. He isn't merely annoyed with his mother. He's also not so conventional that he merely wants her to go away. No, he has a plan: a specific destination and a means for her to get there.

2. His choice of Argentina wins points for specificity. Why Argentina, Noah? Why not Zimbabwe or New York City or the park in your neighborhood? I don't know, but you do. And that is why you are awesome.

3. Noah has invented an actual new object here: the driveable toilet, which could bring brand new meaning to the term "fuel efficient." If every parent in America could transport him or herself to another place simply by sitting on the toilet, I suspect they would embrace the concept. And just think of how much time you would save by being able to get somewhere while also taking care of that, ahem, other important business! Forget the electric car. Let's just leapfrog straight to the electric car-toilet.

Think your child has said something just as imaginative and forward-thinking as young Noah? Then add the quote to Kids Say the Cutest Things and give him a run for his Argentina-transporting money. Bonus points to any child who can turn other household appliances into modes of transportation.

Babble Talk: Why Preschool is NOT a Scam

JeanneSager — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 17:02:00 GMT

I've got to hand it to one of the moms who commented on Lisa Emmerich's recent Bad Parent: Preschool Hysteria.

She managed to equate well-respected institutions of learning across the nation with something cooked up by Bernie Madoff.

Her exact words for what preschool amounts to in her book? "What a racket! I cannot believe you people pay someone to teach your child what you can teach them at home."

Way to insult every mother and father who actually work outside the home and CAN'T teach their children at home. Not to mention those of us who are mindful enough of our own shortcomings that we don't try to teach our kids at home; we put our kids into a program where we feel a certified teacher is providing a headstart for kindergarten while they get to have fun and interact with other children of the same age.

I am a huge proponent of the home schooling movement. But I've got to tell you, I can't do it. Call me a bad parent, but my patience wears thin after the fifth time my daughter looks at me after I've asked a question and says "I don't know. Tell me."

Yes, I teach her little things, the "unschooling" method does have merit in the fact that we count out the number of plates coming out of the dishwasher, and she learned her shapes by identifying road signs while we're out riding around.

She knows her alphabet. She'll recite the whole thing to a stranger at the grocery store. But at home, where she's interacting with a mother with a very similar personality (we are, after all, mother and daughter), she opts for game playing. For pretending she needs help with simple tasks. When push comes to shove - she shoves back. And I'm PROUD of her for it. But it means that we are not meant to be in more than a mother and daughter role.

The issue of home schooling, plain and simple, is not that it doesn't work but that it doesn't work for everyone. Putting aside the fact that the majority of two-parent households in America include two working parents, a lot of parents are still uncomfortable with the idea of being their child's primary source of education. Simply put - if we felt we could be teachers, many of us would have gone to school to be teachers.

I went to school to be a journalist. Faced with a room full of squirmy children, I can play games and sing silly songs. I don't have the patience of Job that my daughter's preschool teacher fortunately possesses. Nor do I have the early childhood development degree that she's earned. I can't get ten kids to sit around a table and draw the letter P and glue feathers to the page to make a parrot. My daughter loved making parrots.

I'm not convinced that kids need to be in a nursery school at two. We waited until my daughter hit three, and even then, we opted for a half-day program just two days a week. For us, it's daycare - I work in a newspaper office while she's at preschool. It's also a place where she spends a fair portion of the time playing with other kids, learning about sharing and picking up on social cues from kids her own age. They're there for social education more so than your traditional academic education at this age, and they're fostering their independence in a safe setting. My daughter feels important learning outside of the home and telling me things - things she doesn't think Mommy knows. At this age, I don't think kids need much more than the basics, and preschool settings that are fairly laissez faire work best for all involved.

It works for us. We knew exactly what we were signing her up for, and why we needed to do it. If that's a racket or a scam, I can only say I've bought it, hook, line and sinker. Oh, and my daughter? Has learned to stop resisting me when I suggest she was her hands after she uses the potty, found some best little buddies for playdates and draws the letter "P" like a champ.

Babble Talk: When Kids Speak Like Grownups

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 23:35:00 GMT

It always cracks me up when kids surprise me with adult language—well, not that kind of adult language, but sophisticated concepts or idioms that they’ve picked up on their own.

A while back, I was spending the weekend with the boys I used to nanny for while their parents were away. On day two, the three-year-old had the inevitable I-miss-mommy meltdown. I tried to calm him down by commiserating, saying that I missed my mom, too, since she lived far away. “She has to take an airplane to come visit me,” I said. He looked up at me and asked tearfully: “Is it a prop plane or a jet plane?” A heated discussion of the relative merits and uses of prop versus jet planes ensued.

Today’s Kids Say the Cutest Things has a quote along these lines that made me laugh out loud. A parent writes, “We recently moved to a new house. My three-year-old told me she likes this house a lot better. When I asked her why, she said, ‘At our old house, the curtains always got on my nerves.’”

Poor thing, having to put up with those awful curtains all those years…

Photo: Corbis

Babble Talk: The Three-Year-Old Philosopher

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 22:30:00 GMT

When I was younger, I played an odd game with myself. I would stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror until my face became entirely unfamiliar to me, the way a word loses its meaning if you say it over and over and over.

The shift was definitive: one minute I was the little girl I thought I was; the next I was staring at an odd conglomeration of shapes and colors poured into girl form. The feeling was exhilarating, mind-altering—the six year-old’s Jim Beam.

I’ve tried this experiment as an adult, and the shift never occurs. I’m just too accustomed to taking for granted certain facts about the world—such as, the reflection in the mirror = me. But one of the reasons kids can be such good company is that they remind us to question the most mundane facts about life.

On Babble’s Kids Say the Cutest Things, a three-year-old wondered, “Why do I live in my body?” To even begin to come up with this question requires such an unself-conscious curiosity about the world that it allows room for ALL possibilities. I mean, what the heck, why can’t we live inside an airplane or a warm, lazy blanket? Why couldn’t three-year-old Chase live inside his brother’s body or his best friend's? Would he still be Chase?

The hard part is explaining that some of the best questions don’t have answers.

Photo: Daan Stringer

Babble Talk: When Even the Kiddies are Money-Conscious

Jen Chaney — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 13:32:00 GMT

Everyone wants to save money these days. Apparently even the two-year-olds. Well, at least one does, according to an item posted in "Kids Say the Cutest Things!"

According to a recent item, a little guy named Jaxon wasn't messing around when he got a few coins into his toddler-sized hands. "We gotta put this money in my account!" he declared, referring, of course, to his piggy bank. The way some of us are accruing interest these days, Jaxon, we might all be better off if we turned our bank accounts into piggy banks.

Have you heard similar comments -- either funny or serious -- from your kids that indicate they are counting their pennies or concerned about money? Then add it to our "Kids Say the Cutest Things!" feature and see if the statement out-"awwws" Jaxon's quote, which right now only has an "awww" rating of 2.

Related Posts:

Babble Talk: I Dare You to Cheer Me Up

Babble Talk: Now This You Don't Hear Every Day

How Do You Spell 'Burberry'?

Babble Talk – The Color Blind Kid

Babble Talk: Extended Nursing = Bad Parenting?

Jen Chaney — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 14:28:00 GMT

Ronda Kaysen's son is attached to her breasts. Often literally. He is seventeen months old and, as Ronda writes in this Bad Parent essay, he still nurses, hungrily and heartily.

Kaysen says she always intended to breastfeed her child until he self-weaned. Yet even she is often embarrassed by his behavior, especially when her boy demands a meal from his mom in public. Frankly, I can empathize with that feeling. While I totally acknowledge that it's perfectly natural, even healthy to nurse a child into his or her toddler years, I can't imagine ever wanting to do it. After a child reaches a certain age, there is something about that process that seems sort of ... ooky. I'm not saying that's right or fair or even remotely justified. But I can't deny I feel that way, even though I completely respect Ronda's decision.

Based on the comments posted in Ronda's essay, I may be in the minority on this.

"I too am nursing a toddler and I try to dodge the judging questions I get from family. It's almost as if I'm trying to give an excuse when I say,'Yes, he still nurses but it's only three times a day!" when in actuality it's more like six,'" writes one reader.

"I nursed my daughter until her 4th birthday. I loved it and don't regret one second of it," adds another.

In fact, one of the prevailing opinions among the commenters was that perhaps this essay didn't qualify for "Bad Parent" designation: "I am getting very annoyed with Babble editors who continually put rather banal topics into the 'BAD PARENT!!!' column," says one reader.

And this comment just made me laugh:

"Babble... what the hell has happened to Bad Parent? Are there no more parents willing to share stories about being gun-toting, pot-smoking, toddler-alcohol-providers bragging about keeping their kid out of school so [as] not to interfere with a busy bar-hopping schedule?"

Yes, America, where are those parents?

In Babble's defense, I have never thought of any of the Bad Parent authors as "bad parents," but rather as people making choices that some might consider controversial. For the record, I don't think Ronda Kaysen is a bad mother at all. Could I do what she is doing, even if someone gave me $150,000 and a year's supply of nipple cream? I don't think so. Actually, maybe that makes me a bad parent.

I'm not sure. But perhaps you can pass judgment on one or both of us by posting a comment.

Babble Talk: I Dare You to Cheer Me Up

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 22:40:00 GMT

There’s little that’s more irritating than being around an insufferably cheerful person when you’re in a bad mood. Sometimes life is crappy and disappointing, and you just have to wallow in it for a while.

Even three year-olds understand this. On Babble’s Kids Say the Cutest Things, a parent learned that sometimes there’s no easy fix for a bad mood: “Our 3-year old was supposed to spend the afternoon with Grandma, but when my mom got sick, she was very disappointed. I thought taking her to McDonald’s (which is VERY rare) would be a special treat to cheer her up. I asked her if she wanted a Happy Meal, to which she responded, ‘No, I feel like I should have a Grumpy Meal today.’”

This little girl is an emotional realist. I mean, would Ronald McDonald cheer you up if you were phenomenally disappointed? Of course not. But I, for one, would still take a free Grumpy Meal.

Photo: tesco.com

Babble Talk: Now This You Don't Hear Every Day

Jen Chaney — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 19:02:00 GMT

Many of the quotes added to our Kids Say the Cutest Things feature make me smile. Every once in a while, they provoke an "awww" response. But only the rarest actually makes me laugh out loud. Recently I found one that did just that. And here it is:

Writes the parent: "While shopping in Ikea, my 3-year-old daughter picked up a cheese grater and said, 'Well, you don't see this everyday.'"

One of two things is going on with this kid. Either a., her family genuinely never grates cheddar, swiss or Havarti, in which case she is merely speaking the truth. Which is still kinda funny. Or option b.: at the age of 3, she already has an incredibly well-developed sense of irony.

I prefer the latter option, which makes me think there is no telling what sort of gems this girl will come up with by the time she hits the age of 5 or 6.

Does your child also bust out some comedy classics while shopping at Ikea, maybe a gutbuster about their Swedish meatballs or the fact that they actually sell a bed called Sniglar? Then add them to our Kids Say the Cutest Things feature and let the LOLing continue.

How Do You Spell 'Burberry'?

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 23:30:00 GMT

It’s so much fun to hear language be manhandled by kids who are highly verbal but still preliterate. Their untrained ears find hilarious and creative sounds in words that we adults have memorized too well to really hear anymore.

When I was little, I used to think that the word “reconnoiter” was actually a phrase: wreck and order. Whenever my mom suggested that we reconnoiter a beach or a park, I thought we were going to trash the joint and then clean up after ourselves—which is, actually, pretty much what we did.

A four-year-old featured on today’s Kids Say the Cutest Things had a very sophisticated linguistic misunderstanding about her stuffed animal. Here’s how her mom or dad explained it: “My daughter has a bear that has a Burberry pattern scarf. The lady at the portrait studio asked what her bear was called and my 4 year old responded, ‘His name is BurBear, but I don't know what his last name is. It's starts with an E.’”

It makes so much sense that a four-year-old heard the “bear” in Burberry, while we adults only hear the cha-ching of the cash register.

Photo: http://myviewsmyideas-rubal.blogspot.com

Babble Talk – The Color Blind Kid

Brett Singer — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 19:00:00 GMT

I'm not one of the people who thinks that racism is over now that Barack Obama is President. (Call me when Black people can hail a cab in Manhattan.)

That said, I do think that it's fair to hope that future generations will be less inclined to judge others by the color of their skin. This quote from Kids Say The Cutest Things illustrates this point:

Six year old Hanna.."Daddy why are Black people Black and White people White"...Daddy "Well because that is the way God made us"...Hanna "Oh..well can you tell God that my favorite color is PINK!"

Aw. Maybe one day we can all just get along. Or at least get a cab.

Read more stuff from kids that will give you nachas for the future of our nation right here. You can also submit your own aspirational aphorisms.

Read more:

Babble Talk: Dude Looks Like a Puppy

Babble Talk: Points For Honesty

The Zen of Not Eating, According to a Four-Year-Old

Babble Talk: Anatomy and Physiology

Woman Arrested For Breast Feeding At A Bar

VIDEO-Dopey After The Dentist

The Zen of Not Eating, According to a Four-Year-Old

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 21:00:00 GMT

I've heard kids make up some pretty good excuses not to eat: "I need to share my lunch with Zoe [the dog]." "My tummy is only hungry for cookies." "It makes me sad when you give me carrots."

But this excuse from four-year-old Noah, taken from Babble's Kids Say the Cutest Things, definitely takes the cake (no pun intended). After his mother tried in vain to get him to eat his lunch, Noah announced, "Mom, food is good and all, but you know what tastes great and is always in your mouth!? Your tongue!"

You have to admit there's something Zen about Noah's thinking--all of the striving and preparing and arguing we do for balanced meals, never pausing for a second to notice that our mouths are already full! Honestly, how many of us ever take the time to just be still for a few moments and enjoy the taste of our own tongues?

Thanks, Noah! You've really put things in perspective.

Photo: lewiswebpage.com

Babble Talk: When It's Too Cold to Play

JeanneSager — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 17:23:00 GMT

I wanted to be all huffy about Kim Brooks' essay about raising her son in cold climes this week. After all, Bad Parent: Cold Comfort points a finger at Northeasterners like me as "bad parents."

But my righteous indignation falls woefully short. I hate the cold.

And before you get that Mommy tone of voice on and tell me "hate is a strong word, young lady," let me tell you - I REALLY hate the cold. What's more, I refuse to do fun things outside in the cold with my over-eager pre-schooler.

The pending invitation to a sleigh-riding party for one of her little friends' birthdays has me pinning my hopes on no shadow for that pesky groundhog next week. A born and raised New Yorker, I should be used to it - at least that's what everyone tells me. But like Brooks, I often rue the day I left Virginia with its barely there winters and its elongated summers. I could blame it all on my asthma, aggravated by the cold, but that's truly only a fraction of my distaste for winter.

I hate driving in it - especially now that I'm a mother. Gripping the steering wheel while she chatters in the backseat, I've used the "shut up" words - the words I never, ever wanted to say in front of my daughter - out of pure fear. Before, it was only me who could be hurt; now it's her life at stake. It makes it harder to get out of the house for those indoor/away from home activities that Oz shared in her list of what to dos in winter.

I hate tromping through the snow, the cuffs of my pants filling with chunks of slush, the water wicking up my jeans and leaving my calves cold and chafed. I hate the wind, whipping past my face and leaving my cheeks chapped and raw. I hate shoveling, the back-breaking work a reminder of all the childhood school cancellations ruined by afternoons spent in the yard making paths to the bus and paths to my father's shop.

Even the so-called fun - the winter sports - don't hold a candle to a good book and a soft spot on the couch. I'm resigned to my inner klutz, which has made skiing, snowboarding, snowshoeing and the like utterly impossible and utterly unenjoyable. Time spent on the ground, rubbing my sore tush, could be better spent, I figured, inside making blanket forts and baking cookies.

And still, my daughter - like Kim's little boy - stares plaintively out the window. She begs to be released from the confines of the house for just a little while to run and jump with the dog in the wonderful world of white.

And I say no.

I'm waiting for her to grow up a little, to be old enough to be trusted outside alone for a little while (we do live on a back road, in a quiet neighborhood, so that day will come). So Kim, if you're a bad parent; I am too. But hopefully our kids will be just as bad - and grow up to hate the cold!

Babble Talk: Dealing With Post-Inaugural Guilt

Jen Chaney — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 13:02:00 GMT

Ada Calhoun, the editor of this here Web site, recently wrote an essay about how she traveled to Washington, D.C. -- with child in tow -- to see the inauguration of President Barack Obama. Despite the warnings about huge crowds, frigid temperatures, Port-a-Potty heinosity and an overall uncomfortable environment for kids, she made the journey anyway and has no regrets about doing so.

"I've never experienced anything like being in a crowd of almost two million silent, rapt people, nor will I probably ever again," she writes. "I looked down at my son, sitting on my lap under a sleeping bag, staring at the Jumbotron, hypnotized by Obama's face and voice, and the speech hit home in a way it might not have had I been unencumbered."

I read that piece, and felt moved by it. And then I felt incredibly, incredibly guilty.

I live in Bethesda, Md., just outside of D.C. And after debating about whether to bring my young son to the National Mall to witness history, I decided not to. I am still not sure if it was the right move.

Of course, I had my reasons. For starters, I needed to get some work done on Inauguration Day, and, as part of that work, also was expected to be downtown by 6 p.m., in a floor-length dress, to cover one of the evening's many balls. I feared that if I got stuck in some sort of post-swearing-in melee, I'd never be able to get home, change clothes and report for duty on time.

Then there was the issue of bringing my little boy, who is almost two. Since strollers were banned from the Mall, I couldn't trot him around in one of those. And the notion of dragging him by the hand or carrying him all day, potentially for hours on end in the bitter cold, did not sound fun.

And let's not forget that here in the Washington area, we had been hearing for weeks on local newcasts that Inauguration Day would be a disaster of unprecedented proportions. Six million people flooding the streets of D.C.! Hours of waiting to get on the Metro! The broadcast reporters don't usually get this panicked unless something really serious -- like snow -- is headed for Washington.

I know: Excuses, excuses. But I had made up my mind. And then I started spending time at some pre-inaugural events in D.C. during the days leading up to The Big Day. And I began to question that decision. As Ada notes, there was an undeniable feeling of excitement in the city, the unmistakeable aura of history unfolding around us, even before anyone started traipsing toward the U.S. Capitol. Could I forgive myself, I wondered, if I missed this important moment -- and deprived my son of missing it -- when it was happening in my own backyard?

On Jan. 19, I asked my husband this very same question: Do you think we should go? He immediately voted no. He thought it would be too hard with our wiggleworm of a son. And since we both were able to work from home that day -- a day our son also could spend in daycare, giving us the freedom to actually get some things accomplished without interruption -- my husband said he really wanted to take advantage of that and just watch the inauguration on TV together, as a couple, in our warm, uncrowded house.

So that's what we did. Meanwhile, our son watched Obama put his hand on the Bible at an inauguration party that was held at his daycare center. The moment came. The moment went. And that was that.

Given all the horror stories about people who got trapped in the Third Street Tunnel, or waited for hours and couldn't even get on to the Mall, it may have been the right decision. But when I read stories like Ada's, I can't help but think that moments like this only happen once and that we need to embrace them. Not only that, but we need to embrace them with our children by our sides, so they can start to understand what the term "shared history" really means.

I'm not going to spend a lot of time fretting over the whole thing. What's done is done. All I can do, really, is be thankful that I was able to play a small part in the overall inaugural weekend, and be thankful, too, that my son and his fellow toddlers got to see it on TV. And I can try to learn a lesson from my regret so that the next time a major event is about to transpire, instead of saying, "Nah, we can't," maybe I'll be more likely to say: "Yes. We can."

Babble Talk: Anatomy and Physiology

Amy Kuras — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 22:01:00 GMT

Kids are famous for having no filter and absolutely no shame about discussing, at top volume, the more private aspects of their bodily functions and body parts. My mother still tells a story about me going to a fabric store with her when I was about the age my daughter is now, and wanting to disappear into the floor while I gleefully flipped through pattern books while annoucing "THIS person has a PENIS! This person has a VAGINA!"

So I found the following two entries in "Kids Say the Cutest Things" thoroughly hilarious.

"In trying to adjust pants that were just a little to tight, my six year-old exclaimed, 'These pants are squishing my peanuts!' -- Holden, 6"

and:

"Whenever we pass the bra and panty mannequins in the mall, it's become a habit for my 17 month old daugther to yell 'BOOBIES!!!' Noel, Virginia"

Too funny, if a little mortifying. Maybe I should send that last one to Mom.....

Want to share your own little one's bon mots with the world? Click on over to the link above!

Babble Talk: Keep That Kid Away From The Police

Brett Singer — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 23:00:00 GMT

In general when our kids say something inappropriate, they don't mean to. That is, they just mix up a word or two.

Of course, there are mix ups and there are mix ups. Like this one:

Calls popcorn "Cop porn" – Rylee (3)

This isn't likely to be a problem. Unless you are at the movies and there is an officer of the law nearby. "Hey, Dad, thanks for the Cop Porn!" Could be a little problematic.

Read more stuff from kids that could get you arrested right here. You can also submit your own bombastic baby babble.

Babble Talk: Points For Honesty

Babble Talk: Did Mommy Get New Boobies?

Stuff You Never Thought You'd Say -- Winter Edition

Babble Talk: When the Kid Wants Mom to Shut It

Babble Talk: The Wisdom of No Consequences

Babble Talk: Dude Looks Like a Puppy

Brett Singer — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 21:00:00 GMT

There's a routine by a comedian whose name I can't recall that I always liked. In it, the comic talks about his son and how little kids are honest to a fault. The boy walks up to heavyset woman wearing a Guess? shirt and says, "I don't know. 280? 285?" And so on.

I was reminded of that routine by today's edition of Kids Say The Cutest Things:

"I didn't know dogs can drive cars!" said by my daughter Madelyne, 3, when she saw a not so attractive person driving a car past us who resembled a dog.

On the one hand, we want our children to be honest. On the other hand, there are times when being honest is not a good idea. When you receive a birthday present you don't like, you don't say, "Gee, this sucks." You say, "Thank you for the gift."

Or if you see a person who is particularly unattractive, it probably isn't such a great idea to refer to them as a K-9. I'm just saying.

Get more brutal honesty from people no taller than your kness right here. You can also submit your own trenchant toddler tidbits.

Babble Talk: Did Mommy Get New Boobies?

Stuff You Never Thought You'd Say -- Winter Edition

Airing the Parental Dirty Laundry

Who's Cuter – The Cat Or The Baby?

Babble Talk: When the Kid Wants Mom to Shut It

Babble Talk: Fighting Around the Christmas Tree

Babble Talk: When the Kid Wants Mom to Shut It

Jen Chaney — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 15:02:00 GMT

So the feature is called Kids Say the Cutest Things. And I am not sure if my choice for today's quote of the day necessarily qualifies as cute. But it's brutally candid. And pretty funny.

As parents we spend a whole lot of time telling our kids to hush, quiet down or -- if it's been a particularly bad day and our nerves are frayed -- shut-up. So it's only fair that sometimes the kids turn the tables and tell us to pipe down.

Which might explain why a three-year-old boy said the following to his father: "'When is mom going to stop talking so we can get our job done?"

Answer, my child? Never. Mommies always have important things to say.

Speaking of, has your kid said something smart (or smart alecky) recently? Then post it on Kids Say the Cutest Things. If nothing else, it'll keep you quiet for a minute so your kids can finally get their work done.

Babble Talk: Is Ditching the Baby Monitor Child Abuse?

JeanneSager — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 19:27:00 GMT

If parents want to get really hard core, they always pull out the word "abuse." As in, "I can't believe you'd do that to your child, that's child abuse!"

Elizabeth Blackwell's recent Babble essay, Bad Parent: Out of Sight, elicited some shock and awe for her refusal to use a baby monitor. But can not using a baby monitor to track your child's every whimper and wheeze really be considered child abuse? I mean, folks, we do have to sleep, shower . . . poop.

If you have all five senses attuned to your child at every moment of every day, I commend you. I don't.

Neither did my parents or their parents. Heck, my grandmothers didn't have baby monitors - and no one would dare tell Grandma that the seven children she raised were anything but well-behaved, well-mannered and in perfectly good health.

Baby monitors are little more than a modern convenience. Useful for some families - including some of the parents who commented about their big houses where it's hard to hear from room to room or kids with medical conditions. For others, well, we used ours a handfull of times, and she's managed to weather the storm.

In truth, although it was dubbed a piece about the electronic monitoring devices, the heart of readers' pique is how Blackwell keeps track of her kids throughout the day and how she responds to them. When they start to cry in the morning, Blackwell says she doesn't hop right to it. And when the bedroom is quiet, she likes to let sleeping babies lie.

Letting a child cry for hours on end might be child abuse (although Dr. Ferber might disagree). But letting a child know that the minute they wake up, Mommy might be on the potty or washing dishes or yes, lolling in bed after a long night of feedings and diaper changes, isn't. As one nurse practitioner told me, shortly after I gave birth, sometimes, kids just cry. Make sure they are fed, they have been changed, they are dressed appropriately for the temperature and they are safe. If you have done everything in your power to make them stop crying, and they won't, it's OK to put them down and walk away.

We are our kids' biggest comfort, but they need to learn to self-soothe and to develop their own interests. Smushed up against Mom's chest all day where she's making them feel better, they hardly get to see the world. They also need to learn that not every moment of your day can be devoted to them. Sometimes, you have to eat, sleep, poop - just like babies.

Parents Wait a Decade to Report Missing Child

Having a Kid Alone? Don't Tell Me Why I Have it Better

Babble Talk: Points For Honesty

Babble Talk: Kids Tackling Global Poverty

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 23:34:00 GMT

When my niece was six, she asked me why rich people didn’t just invite homeless people to live with them. It was winter in Boston, and she simply couldn’t understand why people with homes—including her own family—didn’t allow homeless people (“only the nice ones”) to sleep on their couches or in the guest bedrooms. While commending her altruistic impulse, I gingerly explained the safety concerns of inviting strangers into your home.

Kids’ inability to grasp the entrenchment of global pandemics—poverty, homelessness, racism—is bittersweet. At first, you’re touched by their easy, natural compassion and their hope that they’ll be able to solve these problems when they get older; but then, you’re saddened when you have to explain that the world is much harder to fix than they believe.

This could have been the thinking of the mother of a 7-year-old boy featured on today’s Kids Say the Cutest Things. While walking to the bathroom with his mom in the middle of the night, he said, "It is sad that some people don't have homes. When I grow up and am the richest man or woman in the world, I'm going to buy all the homeless people houses."

He may not be able to carry out this exact goal, but with such a good heart, this little boy is bound to contribute to society in some meaningful ways.

Photo: friendswithoutborders.org

Babble Talk: Points For Honesty

Brett Singer — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 18:00:00 GMT

One of the first posts I wrote on Babble was about certain words that toddler's should never, ever say in polite company. One of them was the phrase "fork and spoon."

In case you've forgotten, here's why:

(Fork - r = Fok) + (In - n = n) + Spoon = Fokkin' Spoon

Many people weighed in with their own toddler-isms, such as the child who walked around asking everyone where his stick was – except that he replaced the "st" with "d". That must have been fun.

Over at 'Kids Say The Cutest Things', this kid, I think, wins the prize. Not only does he/she say a four-letter word, he/she seems to know that he/she is saying a four-letter word. Please forgive my language... well, it's not my language, it's theirs:

mommy dosen't like when i say fire truck because i can't talk very good so I usually say fire fuck

Hard to argue with that one, right?

Read more of the funny stuff that pops out of our kids' mouths, four-letter words, five-letter words, or 27-letter words right here. You can also submit your own short-people sayings.