You were a child, once.

You were a child, once.

My girls are not the neatest. They are not the greatest at listening. They are not the best at sitting still.

We get a lot of unsolicited parenting advice and dirty looks. We smile and talk about it after the girls are in bed.

Sure they make messes, jump on furniture, eat Froot Loops for lunch, make mud pies, question everything, make you feel like you’re at your wits end but then after driving you batshit crazy they will love you, altruistically.

The world does not need mini robots nor does it need emotionally handicapped children always on the defensive because they were taught and prepared for the world being cruel and unforgiving.

I don’t spank or verbally abuse my children. I don’t want them to fear me because I’m bigger or stronger. I have no desire in them growing up and doing things or becoming someone in order to please me.

I want them to be kids because we all know life passes by in the blink of an eye and everyone has more than enough time to be adult-like . When my 6 year old gets extra feisty I sit her down and draw out a circle.

“This is you on the circle,” I tell her, “and these are all your feelings, attitudes, and decisions going around. Everything you do, every thought you have, bad or good, will always come back to you. Your actions will either bring you happiness and rewards or they will bring you negative consequences. Choose wisely.”

I believe that my job as a parent is to raise dreamers. Lovers. Do-gooders. Children who grow up wanting to make a positive difference. Children who believe, children with hope, future adults who maintain their childish spirit.

Live, laugh, love, every day. Make mud pies, maybe?

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