Monday, August 16th, 2010

Several times since Kieran started talking last year, we’ve noticed he has certain phrases that he uses fairly often.
“Where did he come up with that one?!” we’ll laugh . . .
And then one day we inevitably realize, “Oh. He got it from us.”
His latest phrase is a very enthusiastic “let’s do it!” which is definitely from me. Any time we come up with a plan or are getting ready for something, I catch myself saying “yeah! Let’s do it!” in the same enthusiastic voice.
Another couple of words he uses that I love are “well” and “sometimes.” The well is drawn out and pronounced with an almost Southern accent: “way-ell . . .” When the two are used in conjunction, the result is just about cute enough to melt butter. For example:
Mama: “Do you want to eat a snack with me?”
Kieran: “Well, sometimes I like to eat yogurt!”or
Mama: “What do we want to do today?”
Kieran: “Well, sometimes I like to go to Grandma’s house and see our family!”
It’s always very matter-of-factly said, with a certain cock of the head and big gooey toddler eyes.
A few months ago, whenever he asked us a question and got a satisfactory answer, he would immediately come back with an “oh, I see,” (even when he didn’t).
Kieran: “Why it rainin’, mama?”
Mama: “Because the clouds got full of water and wanted to let some out.”
Kieran: “Oh, I see!”
About six months ago he was going through a phase where he wanted to direct our play. Whenever we weren’t playing to his exact specifications, he gave us detailed instructions, followed by the phrase “that’s how we do it!” For example:
“Mama, play with me! No, like this: jump up, then sit on the ground. That’s how we do it!”
Every one of his new phrases has been smile-inducing, even though we know he’s mimicking things he’s heard us say. Almost everything is cuter coming from a toddler’s mouth.
No really – almost everything – even forbidden words. Only once has Kieran ever repeated a cuss word. One day while I was sewing, the machine kept messing up and I’d spent twenty minutes trying to fix it before I lost my cool. “God damn it!” I said, further worrying Kieran, who was sitting near me and very concerned about me and the machine. A few minutes later, he was trying to take off some beaded necklaces he’d been wearing, very calmly saying all the while “God damn it, God damn it, God damn it!”
Can you hear yourself in your kids?
What sweet phrases has your little one picked up?
Posted in Kieran, Parenting, Toddlerhood | 12 Comments »
Monday, July 26th, 2010

We rearranged our living space a few days ago by moving the desk from the back of the house (where it wasn’t used) to the front (where it may get used). While cleaning out the drawers, Kieran found some Post-it flags that I used in my previous life as a lawyer.
I loved Post-it flags. My friends at law school may remember my penchant for flagging textbooks and outlines, because I am a nerd like that.
For example, to the right is a picture of my well-loved copy of “The Bluebook.” The Bluebook tells lawyers (who care) how to cite things correctly when writing. If you remember your college English courses, it’s kind of like the MLA for attorneys.1
Anyway. Kieran found my flags.
At first I asked him to leave the flags alone, because I’m just kind of protective of my flags like that, yo.
But then I thought – what the hell?
They’ve been sitting in a desk drawer unused for the last three years, why not let Kieran have some fun?
And so I did.
He immediately found their next best use (after flagging legal documents), which is flagging the different sectors of one’s own anatomy.
He was very intently preoccupied with this flagging exercise for oh, ten to fifteen minutes or so.
And as I took pictures of my beloved flags decorating my beloved son’s legs I thought, you know you’re a mama when the contents of your desk drawers are more useful as body art than they are for their original purpose.
What about you? What wonderful things have you experienced lately that made you think “you know you’re a mama when . . .”
Leave your thoughts in the comments, and I will post them all later!
Posted in Kieran, Parenting | 27 Comments »
Monday, July 19th, 2010
We cut Kieran’s hair last weekend.
Kieran’s beautiful, long curls laid scattered around the stylist’s feet, but his eyes still lit up my heart when he peeked at me from the mirror.
Kieran’s dishwater blond hair had never met a pair of scissors before last week, when I gave him a tiny trim to get him ready for the stylist. See, we decided early in Kieran’s life to do something unconventional: we decided to let Kieran choose when he would get his first haircut.
Kieran loved his hair as much as I did. He didn’t know that boys are “supposed to” have short hair, and girls are “supposed to” have long hair. He hasn’t been indoctrinated into traditional gender stereotypes.
Hopefully, he wasn’t aware of the remarks people made about him to me.
“Oh look, he has a mullet!”
“Aw, but he looks like a little girl!”
“When are you going to cut that boy’s hair?!”
Remarks like that made me experience a range of emotions. On one hand I just didn’t care. Kieran, Tom, and I were all happy with the way he looked. We couldn’t imagine his hair being any different. On the other hand, these remarks are about my child. Why does he need to fit into some neat little stereotyped box at the age of two?! Do parents of girls with short hair frequently get “gee, she looks like a boy” comments?
As a girl raised in the U.S., I have had it drilled into me from an early age that boys should be handsome and girls should be pretty. There are certain codes and expectations that we all must follow to “fit in.” Color outside the gender lines and you run the risk of being shunned.
But when did it become socially acceptable to make flippant remarks about a child’s appearance? Especially when that child is within earshot. Is that the result of the pervasive societal attitude that kids don’t matter? That they aren’t “smart” enough to figure out that we are talking about them? Do people not think that kids are listening? Are kids’ feelings that unimportant?1
And, for that matter, is it socially acceptable to walk up to an adult (stranger or not) and say “haha, you have a mullet”?
My point, I think, is fourfold:
1) Think before you speak: don’t make comments about the way people look, regardless of whether that person is 2, 25, or 75.2 It’s rude, and it’s probably not your place.
2) Don’t get stuck in gender stereotypes: whether it’s a girl wearing blue, a boy wearing pink, a girl in overalls, a boy in a skirt, a girl with a shaved head, or a boy with a ponytail, who cares?! We are all people. We are all worthy of love, no matter how we dress, how we style our hair, or what clothes we put on our bodies.
3) Realize that kids are people too: kids can make choices about their own bodies. Kids can hear and understand what you are saying about them. Kids are people. Treat them as such please.
4) Break free of what society dictates is “pretty”: I know I’m not the only one who rolls my eyes at the stereotypical “pretty” image. If you don’t like the constraints, break free!3
(Warning: she uses the “F” word around the 2:47 mark, otherwise it’s safe for work)
Back to Kieran’s hair:
So, to everyone who told me my kid’s hair looked funny: I didn’t care what you thought. Yes, it might have hurt a little because you were making a comment about my child (and every parent knows that anytime our child is hurt or made fun of, it hurts us too). And yes, it made me angry if you said it around him like he was deaf or dumb. He can hear you, and he’s pretty flippin’ bright.
But we didn’t cut it because of anyone’s comments. We cut it because he asked us to. Before that? Before that he was fine with it. And Tom and I were fine with it. We thought he was beautiful.
I miss his hair, even though I really like his new hair.
Yes, it’s just hair. I realize that. But I feel like these comments, these comments about a child’s skin-deep appearance, are just a symptom of something deeper in society, something about our attitude towards kids. Or our shallowness about what is “pretty.” And it makes me sad. And maybe a little angry.
Posted in Consensual Living, Kieran, Parenting | 42 Comments »