We actually have no clue. And there are two of them.

Both my husband and I are only children. When you are a child, being an only is super cool. All the presents are for you and you get to make up all the rules. However, beyond the fact that this experience has made me a pretty weird adult, it becomes less and less fun every year to have no siblings. It also makes it really hard at times to parent two kids with no actual experience.

Merry Christmas!  She will get in all your stuff but you'll be a better person for it.

A few weeks ago we were out buying shoes for our oldest (for the THIRD time this season because gym shoes do not fit the same as other shoes and also because shoes can feel fine on your feet one day and then become instruments of torture the next.) Our little one started crying because she was not getting shoes, so I said she could pick out a pair of socks. Cut to the big one crying because she was not getting socks. Cut to me yelling about being thankful for what we have and children who never get new socks and shoes. You know how this ends.

Today we repeated the scene, except with a scuba mask and Mini MixieQs. I need to get a handle on this before it comes time to get one of them a car.

One of my favorite quotes.  It is lost on children.

They are three years and two months apart. They need different things, but they want the same things and are both old enough to sense sibling injustice from afar. I absolutely do not want to be buying two things when we only need one. I also really want to teach our kids that they should not be comparing what they get to anyone else. On the other hand, I'm trying really hard not to give the little one a complex because she only gets her sister's used stuff.

This is only our newest in a long list of the two-child struggles. One has a playdate and usually ends up with a third wheel. The older one has to do assigned reading and the younger one asks to play on her iPad. Do I equally balance after school activities, or is it ok for one kid to do three things while the other only does one?

A great response to children's concept of "fairness."  Also lost on them.

It shouldn't be about "fairness," but it often is. I see that it's hard to like your sister when you feel like she's always getting the better deal, more attention, less expectations, more freedom, etc. I look at my girls and I envy the built-in friend. I want to parent to support and grow that relationship. A very wise friend once told me, "Don't worry, when they're teenagers they'll bond over hating you." I guess there's always that to look forward to.

Don't worry, we got them both ice cream.

Fifty Shades of Crap

You knew it was coming at some point.  I promise this will be the only blog that is political in nature and I promise that it very much applies to parenting.  And there are no pictures because I'm mad.

If you know me, you know that I am no fan of Donald Trump (and, quite honestly, not that excited about Hillary either) but this past week solidified what I have been feeling for months: Donald Trump in NO WAY deserves to be president.  A person elected to the highest office in our country should be respectful.  They should have a sense of service.  They should see value in ALL people and treat them accordingly.  I have many, many other issues with Trump, but this is where it begins for me. Reduced to it's simplest form, I don't want my kids to see a deplorable human being elected president.

However, this past week has brought me to an even more important realization. I saw the memes and tweets asking "If women are so outraged by Trump's dirty talk, then who bought the 80 million copies of 'Fifty Shades of Grey'?" I have seen clips of reporters speculating that it was just the actual words used that had women upset.  I heard Trump himself say that his words did not define him, as if they were somehow separate from the disgusting actions they described. That is all crap.

Most women are not offended by language.  Most women don't care that much about "locker room talk," when it is actually talk and not a description of sexual assault.  But all of this comes down to CONSENT.  Please, people!  Even Christian Grey, in arguably the worst book ever written, knew about consent.  That's why we spent 6 chapters agonizing over the weirdest contract on the planet. Don't pretend you didn't read the book!

After a summer of Brock Turner, the long over-due spotlight on rape culture and Donald Trump, I've realized that this may be the number one thing to teach our daughters.  CONSENT.

I've also realized that my own daughters have had very little experience with the idea of consent. They were born in a wealthy, safe, developed country. They are sheltered.  Their father is a model for how to treat women and people in general.  Furthermore, I am a control freak and don't always give them the option to consent to eating food, let alone bigger issues. But trust me, I'm going to start.  I have thought a lot about modeling and addressing consent with children over the last few days.

To my daughters:
1.  I will never force you to kiss anyone, even Grandma, when you say you don't want to.
2.  When I am tickling you and you say "STOP,"  I will stop.
3.  I will fight for you for as long as it takes you to fight for yourself.
4.  As hard as it is being a control-freak mom, I will respect your voice and your choices.
5.  I will never, NEVER tell you that a boy is teasing you because he likes you.  I will help you make him stop.
6.  I will teach you to accept nothing less than kindness and respect.
7.  I will teach you that you always have a choice, that nothing should ever be done TO you and that there are plenty of instances in life when you don't have to be polite.
8.  I will try never to tell you who to vote for, but I will always tell you that we have STANDARDS and we expect people to live up to them.

Especially our President.

That stuff is out there...We might as well talk about it.

When I was twelve I got a copy of Flowers in the Attic for Christmas.  My family has some strange bargain hunting tendencies that often produce holiday gifts.  My aunts bought me books a lot. In the fourth grade I did a book report on a true life story of a granny that killed people and buried them in her flower beds.  It was called Human Harvest.  To repeat:  I got up in front of my fourth grade class and reviewed a book called Human Harvest.   I'm not normal, I just hide it well sometimes.

My intro to the world of delicious, yet terribly-written fiction.

Back to Flowers in the Attic.  That is a smutty, smutty book by twelve-year-old standards, and do you know what my mom did?  She let me read it.  In fact, I never remember a time when my mom said "Don't read that" or "You can't watch that."  I do remember being four and having her finish Cinderella and ask me "Do you think that was smart?  She didn't even know that prince and she married him!"  I also remember reading or seeing many things and then asking my mom about them without thinking twice.

In my opinion this was one of the best parenting choices my mom made.  She let me watch and read whatever I wanted.  We talked about it.  I was free to ask any questions I wanted and I did that often.

I was not introspective enough as a tween or teenager to realize it, but having a mom who was willing to discuss anything and chose not to shield me was empowering.  In many instances when someone suggested some ridiculous piece of advice or activity, I already had the knowledge I needed to make a good decision.  When I wasn't sure, I was comfortable asking my mom.  I read about things that most early middle schoolers did not (Thanks, V.C. Andrews and Cosmo magazine!) and therefore wasn't that shocked or intrigued when it came up in whispered conversation.

In middle school when a girl said "You can use a ziploc bag as a condom."  I said "You most certainly cannot.  You should probably talk to my mom ASAP." (Just to be clear, my mom taught pregnant teens at our high school, so she was a logical choice for the whole "no ziploc bags" discussion.)

Great for food storage.  Not great for prophylactic purposes.

I'm not saying that these days I'm letting our girls watch Scarface.  I'm just saying that at this stage when we are watching a movie or t.v. and something questionable comes up, I ask them how they feel about it.  I tell them how I feel about it.  When they have a question, I answer it simply and truthfully. I try to read them books about their bodies and talk to them about good and bad choices, but they are not overly interested, probably because it seems like no big deal.

If you are a parent (even of young children) and have not recently been in the halls of a high school, I suggest you go.  It is eye opening.  Within five minutes you'll learn bad words you didn't know existed.  You'll also learn a lot stuff you didn't really want to know.  If it's not already happening, and I'm almost positive it already IS, my kids will soon be picking up stuff at school that is not even on my radar.  I cannot shield them from it. I'm not going to make it disappear by not addressing it.  I want my girls to trust me.  I want them to know that it's always ok to ask.

I don't want to leave you with the impression that high school kids are depraved little monsters.  The ones I taught were lovely, I just don't want them to be the main source of info for my own kids.