10 Things I Wish People Would Stop Doing Around My Kids

There are a few things I wish other parents would stop doing when it comes to my kids—or at the very least in front of them. With some things, when I clearly know the intent, it’s much easier to let it go, but other times I find myself digging deep to extend grace (if I’m honest there have been times when I’ve dug deep and come up with nothing).

Still, I’m not here to judge. I’m just here to encourage us to look within and to be mindful of the things we are doing and saying, not just when it comes to our own kids. I’m sure I’ve done something to result in an eye-roll from another mom. So while I’m asking you to please stop talking like a sailor in front of my children who happen to be right behind you in the grocery store checkout line, I’m also doing my best to teach my children about our own family values and expectations and that we don’t necessarily have to like or agree with everything someone does to respect them or be kind.

1. Let their kids use social media

Apparently my tween is the only one who doesn’t have Instagram or Snapchat (hey, I don’t even have Snapchat)—which means I’m being totally unreasonable here. I’m OK with that, but is there anyone out there who can give me a (virtual) high-five?

2. (Well-meaning strangers) offer my kids snacks

You thought the tears were bad, now just wait until I say, “No thank you.”

My little one is crying and you wanted to help so you waved your magic wand, I mean lollipop. Actually, you did ask me if she could have it but she was right there listening and watching that gleaming piece of candy move through the air. You thought the tears were bad, now just wait until I say, “No thank you.”

3. Ask me for a favor related to your kid

Perhaps the only thing worse than my child putting me on the spot is another parent putting me on the spot—in front of both our kids.

4. Drop F-bombs

Given I’ve got a 3-year-old who occasionally moonlights as a parrot, I try to be more careful about what I say around her. While I can control what I say, I can’t control what you say (Note: I’m not just talking about the occasional drop but rather a continuous stream of profanity as a part of your regular dialogue.). And there are some words that I don’t want to become a part of her increasingly expansive vocabulary.

5. Be mean

Making cruel, harsh and/or judgmental comments about parents or children or people in general just isn’t cool nor is it funny. When you pick apart the traits (physical or personality) of another person (even if they’re on TV), support negative stereotypes and engage in other forms of word vomit, I’m forced to question the value of our relationship when it comes to my family. Or maybe I question why I came to this restaurant and ask to be seated somewhere else. In our world kindness rules. You can totally, “sit with us.” Just be nice, OK?

6. Tell me how to discipline them

Lucky for you they’re my kids, which means you don’t need to worry yourself with how they should be disciplined.

If you’re coming from a good place and you’d like to share your thoughts in private, then please go right ahead. But I’d rather you not tell me that all parenting dilemmas would be solved if I would spank my kids or ground them or do whatever it is you do. Lucky for you they’re my kids, which means you don’t need to worry yourself with how they should be disciplined. Have you watched the news lately? There are greater fights for you to fight.

7. Make a negative or snarky comment about their appearance

I’m trying to raise girls that are comfortable in their own skin (and hair), and listening to you go on and on about how their hair is so coarse and how it must take forever and be so difficult to comb isn’t helping. We don’t need you to pity us or belittle us. We’re learning to work what God gave us and love it too. You don’t have to love it, but as the saying goes, “If you don’t have anything nice to say … “

8. Disrespect boundaries

Nope. If my kid doesn’t want to hug you they don’t have to. It doesn’t matter whether you are a relative or a friend; if you ask and they decline, that’s it. And please refrain from the manipulative fake cries or declarations that you aren’t going to give them a treat anymore. Keep your treat. They have a right to speak up when it comes to their bodies.

9. Gossip

How is gossiping about someone’s marriage woes or troubled teen over coffee actually helping them? Moreover how is it helping my kids, who are indirectly being invited into an (inappropriate) adult conversation? Children are children, not miniature grown-ups. So please, let them be little. Once again “If you don’t have anything nice to say … “

10. Insist that (insert magical childhood character) doesn’t exist.

Just because you’ve stopped believing doesn’t mean my children have to. In my house we’re holding on to the magic of childhood for as long as we can, and for us that includes penning letters to Santa and putting that lost tooth under the pillow for the Tooth Fairy. (Also: Unlike our fictitious favorites, our God is real. We don’t attack your faith and ask that you please refrain from attacking ours.).

Is there anything you wish other parents would stop doing around your kids or you’re making more of an effort to stop doing?

Via Mom.me

My Only Child Doesn’t Need A Sibling


Via mom.me

By Leah Campbell

I have this amazing friend who is basically a single mama superhero. She is stunning (in the kind of shape I have never in my entire life been in), successful in her career, completely committed to parenting and always jetting off on some new adventure or another with her sidekick—a little girl who is full of her mama’s spunk and energy.

I am not kidding you when I say I look at this mama some days and wonder how in the heck she does it all.

But recently she posted something on Facebook that struck me. It was about the numerous comments she gets regarding how her daughter “needs” a sibling, and how rude, presumptuous and downright out-of-line those comments are.

As I read her post, I thought to myself, “You go, Mama!”

For the record, I have always wanted a large family. The idea of having an only never really crossed my mind, until I dealt with infertility, enduring singledom (I think they used to call it “spinsterhood”) and the realization that my daughter (adopted in the most serendipitous of ways) and I have a pretty damn good life together. If it is only ever just the two of us, both she and I will be just fine.

She doesn’t need a sibling any more than I need another child. Which is to say, it would be nice—and I certainly remain open to the possibility—but I also see the beauty ahead in the life I could create for us if it is only ever just her and me.

You know what kids need? Love, support, guidance, food, shelter and maybe a little more love. But a sibling?

I think people mean well enough when they comment on the need for a sibling. Nobody intends any harm; they are simply remembering back to their own childhoods, to the fun they had with their siblings, or the loneliness they may have felt as only children themselves. Plus, we all know the stereotypes surrounding only children, and I have certainly known an only child or two myself who has lived up to those stereotypes.

But what people forget is that those really are just stereotypes. The recent research points to the fact that only children are not nearly as lonely as we’ve been led to believe, and that they actually fare better than kids with siblings in some areas, including academic pursuits. And, as long as we’re talking in anecdotes, I’ve also known only children in my past who in no way lived up to the stereotypes attributed to them; they were kind, generous, loving people who were raised by parents that worked hard to mold them as such.

Whether or not a child has a sibling is not the defining factor for the type of person they will become, and no child needs a sibling. You know what kids need? Love, support, guidance, food, shelter and maybe a little more love. But a sibling? That’s about as crucial to development as a puppy—sure, lessons can be gained from the added responsibility, but it certainly isn’t the only way to grow into a responsible adult.

Look, if I am ever blessed with another child, I have no doubt my daughter will benefit from having a little brother or sister to grow up alongside. But she’s not going to grow into a spoiled, selfish person without one—which, let’s be honest, is the underlying implication whenever anyone suggests that a child needs that brother or sister.

How about instead of commenting on the size of other people’s families, or when/if they should add on to those families, we instead make a solemn vow to recognize that it’s none of our business. Not only because you have no idea what another family has dealt with (infertility, loss or struggles in their romantic relationship that make adding on seem like a bad idea) but also because no child needs a sibling. And asserting that they do is just kind of an asshole thing to say.

Don’t be an asshole. Just don’t comment on another person’s family. Because you don’t know the whole story, and your compilation of anecdotal evidence does not make you an expert on what any child might need.

One thing I can say for sure? My friend’s little girl is going to be just fine if she is forever an only child. Mostly because she has a superhero for a mama. One who works hard, every single day, to make sure she has everything she needs—and so much more.

I completely identify myself on this post. I hope you found it crucial found some comfort  if you are experience some similar situation.

Monica R.

Are You This Lucky?


There is one rule in most situations to don’t compare yourself to others. But as moms, that’s almost impossible not to do, we now spend a majority of our time with other parents and their kids. I often think to myself, is she just a better mom than me, or does she have easier kids?

Of course, I know the answer to this question. All children come with their own set of rules, and I’m doing the best I can, but it’s still hard because our children can be a reflection of us to the outside world.

These are the moms some wouldn’t mind trading places with for one day:

  1. The Moms whose Kids Sit in the Shopping Cart

The grocery store is practically handing us an excellent ticket when they offer carts that look like race cars. It should be a toddler version of someone letting me drive their Ferrari but my kid make me want to drive off a precipice as I push that ridiculously enormous object and here comes another car cruising towards me, those damn carts are so huge we have to knock down all the displays to get what we want most of the times.

  1. Moms whose Kids Hold Their Hand When Walking Down the Street

These are the moments I apologize to the parenting gods for ever judging anyone who put their child on a leash. I want to handcuff mine most of the times. Even when he does hold my hand walking, it’s a little vague; his arm is in a constant shake motion.

  1. The Moms whose Kids Brush Their Hair and Teeth

Just ask my kid sometimes every morning is a mission to do it, he is little and he needs my help but even that he wants to make it himself and is the constant fight every morning. It makes no difference what flavor the toothpaste is or what character appears on their toothbrush.

  1. The Moms whose Kids Leave Places in peace

Everywhere we go somewhere and it’s time to get back into the car to leave my kid act like I’m tearing him away from Disney World. No matter where we are, chaos ensues when it’s time to go. I think I won’t take him to Disney World until at least their mid-30s, when he establishes some self-control.

Needless to say, these are things I never imagined would be an issue before I was a mother. I had no idea my child would complain about the simplest tasks, he also knows the right moment to plant a kiss on my cheek or bring a smile on my face, but I also have come to embrace the chaos, and laugh each day because I survive the unexpected but even the adversity I consider myself a lucky mom.

Always Your Little Boy


Being a little boy’s mama is to point the penis down in a diaper, and probably getting a face full of urine at least once in your life.

It means having to educate a child on owning a body that you know amazingly little about (testosterone, masturbation, facial hair), and answering questions like, “Why it straight, mommy? OH NO, WHY IS MY PENIS STRAIGHT?!” (Being a mama to only boys may also mean quietly weeping for the useless advice you have about owning ovaries and wild mood swings.)

Being a little boy’s mama means pockets full of wildflowers. It means cuddles and compliments and thoughtful gestures from a miniature gentleman.

Being a little boy’s mama means hearing phrases like, “Boys belong to their future wives, girls belong to their moms forever” and dying a little inside.

It means finding rocks hidden around the house. Being a little boy’s mama means teaching the lesson NO especially when it comes to someone’s body or personal space. It means not only teaching respect, but modeling what a respectful, strong, capable woman actually is.

It’s declaring that your son will not be that guy who creepily grinds up behind an unsuspecting girl in a club, or catcalls a woman walking across the street, or starts a drunken brawl. (And then accepting that it’s a possibility.)

Being a little boy’s mama means prematurely mourning his high-pitched chipmunk voice, realizing that you’ll eventually hear a deeper, stronger, manlier voice.

It means knowing that one day you’ll be looking up at your child.

It means kissing his cheek and knowing that, one day, it will be prickly or unshaven. It means looking at his chest and legs and knowing that hair will cover his baby-soft skin.

Being a little boy’s mama means always going, moving, running, energy. It means muddy shoes, bandaged legs, and breath-catching stunts that nearly stop your heart.

It means surrendering to rough housing and accepting the bloody noses.

It means playing certain games and watching certain movies that you really have no interest in, and yet still enjoy seeing through the ninja-superhero-karate perspective because it’s his perspective.

Being a little boy’s mama means loving your husband the same way you’d want your son to be loved.

Being a little boy’s mama means seeing the little boy in all men, and feeling more empathetic than you were before.

Being a little boy’s mama will change you — harden you in some places, soften you in others — but will ultimately give the sweetest memories of when, for a brief period, you were everything to a sticky-faced little man.

11 Things NOT to say to a parent of an Only Child


With a single child households on the rise, it’s time everyone got on board with what onlies and parents of onlies already know: Only children may grow up differently, but they’re just as awesome. I put together this list of comments that I really don’t like to be asked or say.

  1. “He must be really lonely.”

First of all, there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. I can say that only children are actually less likely to feel lonely because they have more experience being alone. We’re comfortable hanging out with ourselves and often have rich inner lives. That said, it’s important to make sure only children have lots of opportunities to play with other kids, so if you’re really concerned about the sibling-free boy down the street, I’m sure his parents would be happy to send him over for a play date.

  1. “He won’t have anyone to help take care of you when you’re old.”

While this technically may be true, there’s no guarantee that the children in a bigger family will share the work of caring for a parent, anyway. We have all heard about families where one sibling becomes the de fact of caretaker, whether he or she wants to or not. This is a situation that’s impossible to predict, so it’s just hurtful to make someone feel guilty for it.

  1. “It must be so easy with just one child.”

Well, yes and no. Yes, parents of only children don’t have to referee sibling fights, fill out school forms in triplicate, or spend nearly a decade changing diapers. But some of us made that choice because we know that we would have trouble managing a bigger family. When other parents start complaining about the stress of having multiple kids, I resist the urge to remind them that they chose to have a bigger family.

  1. “You’re not a real parent until you have more than one.”

Several parents told me they’d heard variations of this hurtful line, as if only-child moms “fall somewhere between a mother and an aunt on the challenge and commitment spectrum,” as a friend described it. We may have “just” one, but we have the important job of protecting and nurturing that life and feel all the same fears, worries, and boundless love other parents feel.

  1. “You don’t want him to grow up to be spoiled, do you?”

Trust me; parents of only children have internalized this stereotype so deeply that most of us are hyper-vigilant about not “spoiling” our kids. Even so, it’s a given that an only child is going to get more focused attention from his parents. Research shows this is a positive in terms of self-esteem, achievement, and even intelligence.

  1. “You’re selfish for not having another child.”

Does anybody know me or know my situation or the reasons for not to have another baby? That is another topic.

  1. “That must be why he is so shy.”

First of all, there is nothing wrong with being shy or introverted. The shy, withdrawn only-child stereotype is so pervasive that for a long time people believed is true, that is another topic.

  1. “He doesn’t seem like an only child.”

That’s a loaded complement if I’ve ever heard one. All kids have selfish and bratty moments, but only children are more quickly defined by these labels than kids from bigger families. Conversely, some people see an only child who actually has empathy and social skills as a rare unicorn. The reality is that all kids are in the process of acquiring these skills and should be allowed some mistakes as they grow.

  1. “What if he doesn’t have kids and you never get to be a grandmother?”

Well, yes, I’ll be a little disappointed if I never experience being a grandparent, but having more than one child just to ensure it happens doesn’t seem like the smartest gamble. Plenty of people never have kids. I want my child to grow up to be happy with his choices, not with pressure to make me a grandmother.

  1. 1 “Are you having another?”

Variations include “Just one?” and “Don’t you want one of each?” I especially like this sneaky one from the grandparents: “Our friends are asking us if you’re having another baby.” It should go without saying, but these are very personal questions. Some people will be happy to respond that they’re “one and done,” but others may have painful reasons behind their family size—money troubles, marriage problems, medical conditions.

  1. “He needs a sibling.”

I love my child dearly, but I try hard not to give in to him every whim and want, and that includes creating another human being for him to play with. There is no guarantee that siblings will be friends. I felt completely identified in this article Follow my blog for more informative and interesting articles about parenting and motherhood’s experiences.