It’s almost Halloween, you’ve got kids coming over (or adults for pumpkin-flavored cocktails!), and you’re so not in the mood to start carving and de-gooping pumpkins. I’ll be honest, I’m almost never in the mood, outside of when I can roast those seeds. Yum.
But if you’re not down with pulling out pumpkin guts and want something a little shmancier than simply painting them one color, here are some rock ‘n’ roll, glam AF, and easy as (pumpkin) pie no-carve pumpkin ideas…
Then my daughter tells me that tomorrow in school, there will be a lockdown drill and asks me if the alarm will be loud. I freeze.
We need softness in the face of terror, we need kindness in response to hate, and we need love as revolution. We need these tiny drop of some magic healing warmth. We need the opposite of the microaggressions that so many of us deal with daily… and I realize that what we need are microaffections.
Our daughter is almost 10. I believe she would be fine on her own for an hour, and I feel confident that she knows how to call 911, who to go to for help, etc., But, what do you guys think… At what age are kids ready to be left alone?
I am a pediatric nurse, and I was just worrying the other day about the message I was sending to a four-year-old girl during a treatment. She very clearly said “no,” but of course it was necessary for us to treat her (nasal suctioning — totally not fun!).
I would love to hear more suggestions from parents about what works when it is necessary to overrule a child’s wishes about their bodies.
When I went looking for a bedtime book that I felt my child could relate to, I came up short. Actually, I came up empty. I searched local independent bookstores, well-known chain bookstores like Barnes & Noble, and even online looking for a book that had an African American girl in a wheelchair on the cover, and quickly discovered there was nothing. It simply did not exist.
So, I decided to take matters into my own hands…
I have a four-year-old son, and his father is very “that’s for boys and this is for girls,” and “you can’t wear/do/play with that because you’re a BOY.”
My hope is that this beautiful community of families can help me by suggesting books, movies, or other resources that might help us get the point across to our son. I have looked high and low and I’ve nabbed the materials that I feel express my feelings, but I want as many tools as I can to help my son understand that he can wear, do, or play with anything he wants.
After my three-year-old son watched Disney’s Moana and decided he would be Maui when he grows up (be still my heart), I started thinking about cultural appropriation and how to properly frame that for my son as he grows…
Help me out. When does cultural appreciation cross the line into culture appropriation?
In my humble childhood experience the Easter Bunny brought chocolate, candy, and perhaps a few small toys — all of which are the appropriate size to fit in a basket. An actual basket! Not a toy bin, not a kiddie pool — a basket. What’s next? Children sitting on the lap of a man in a bunny suit asking for the trendiest toy of the season?
Once we start down this slippery slope of excessive Easter gifts where do we draw the line?