We are driving home from dinner at a friend’s house one evening when our four-year-old, Sawyer*, who loves music, spontaneously breaks into song. “I gotta big butt, I gotta big butt . . .”
Dr. Eye, the pediatrician, says that they should not be drinking out of bottles ANYMORE.
Breathing is difficult today. In the waiting room we sit, my sick four-year-old and I. For a w.hole nineteen minutes now the paper-white silence has been punctuated by the cold of the man a.cross from us.
We are in the South of France with our babies. Our babies cannot talk but find alternative ways to disrupt us.
I have always tried to include three-year-old Gus in the decision-making. For example, we have discussed at length the pros and cons of wearing a snowsuit to bed.
Your little one needs an established routine. Sufficient carbohydrates, calcium, iron. Limited sugar. Sufficient sleep: eleven to thirteen hours a night. Limited screen time….
One morning, a woman gave birth to a monster. The monster had red skin and howled all day and all night. The woman sobbed when she held the monster….
Autism is you’ve got to say it louder. No, a little quieter. Wait, you have to look at her honey because she didn’t hear . . .