Vagina vs. Toodie: When Do I Update My Daughter's Vocabulary?

Vagina.

That’s right -- Vagina. I receive weekly email updates about timely news information. For instance, the past few weeks have detailed the events surrounding the 10-year anniversary of Sept. 11. But last week I was a bit shocked to find the headline: "THE WORD ON EVERYBODY'S LIPS IS 'VAGINA.’"

It’s not that I was offended -- very little offends me. I just found it odd this was ‘timely news information.’

(Music Review) Break Me Out by The Rescues

I've been in love with The Rescues since my husband discovered them this past spring. He bought the cd at Best Buy, forced me to listen to this song, and I was hooked. I must've listened to the cd at least a dozen times in the next week; over and over as I drove the 26 minutes to school in the mornings and the 26 minutes home in the afternoons.

The album is terrific. The group consists of two men, two women, and their harmonies remind me of youth choir -- which made my husband groan when I described it in those terms. They've got a pop-music feel -- which made my brother groan and say, "that's not my type of music."

But I love them. And I particularly love "Break Me Out."

(Book Review) Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein

I took my time with this book, reading a chapter at a time and really soaking it in. With a 4-year-old daughter I felt I owed her -- and myself -- the time. Time to turn the info over and over in my head.

Now I've Gone & Said "Ifs, Ands, or Buts." Who Am I?

We took our 4-year-old daughter to watch our city's local fireworks Monday night. It was her first time to see fireworks and I was almost as excited as she was about sharing such a special moment. I loved fireworks as a child; heck, I still do.

So we arrive at our viewing point, the local community college. We find a spot on the concrete stairs. We'd have preferred the grass but earlier it'd rained just enough. Another family with a little boy was seated a few steps above, and he and Shannon struck up a conversation almost immediately. Within minutes they bonded over their overprotective parents, both of whom kept telling them to stop swinging on the railing. This kept her entertained since we'd arrived about 20 minutes early, which was all well and good. Until I told her she needed to come sit with us since the fireworks were about to start.

To which she replied with an emphatic stomp and a stubborn, "No, Mom. I wanna sit with my friend."

This Mom's Quest to 'Roo the Day

On a midnight drive home after a September concert, I was completely sure about one thing. "We're going."

"Where?" my husband Ryan asked.

"To Bonnaroo. We're going to Bonnaroo."

And from that moment, we were in. It wasn't hard to convince my friend Gemi to go along, plans were made, and eventually, bags were packed -- a lot of 'em.

Erasing the Bad Words

I'm trying not to say "no" and "stop" and "don't" all the time.

To my daughter, that is. As in, "Don't dump all your crayons out," and "Stop getting your blueberry muffin all over the floor," and "No, you can't help me peel the boiled eggs."

I realize how lucky I am to have a healthy, happy 3-year-old.  My work with the American Cancer Society introduced me to too many parents who aren't so fortunate, and not to sound cliche, but sweating the small stuff is a waste of precious time. What's a few crumbs on the floor in the grand scheme of things, anyway?

So in the past two weeks, Shannon has played in all-purpose flour, glittered the kitchen with her craft project, glued a bit of carpet together in my office, and assembled a book of torn-out pages from a spiral notebook. Oh yes, and just this morning we listened to christmas music. In return, I've got gluey paw prints across the back porch, glitter in the bottom of my coffee cup, and "giblets" of paper throughout the house (by the way, thanks to Mrs. Russell for giving them a name).

And it's okay. Better than okay --- she's happier, and I'm happier. Sure, I'll have "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" stuck in my head for the rest of the day. And of course, I can't erase every "no" and "stop" and "don't" from my vocabulary. No, you can't lick the spoon when there's raw eggs in the batter. Stop swinging that necklace before you smack yourself (or me) in the face. Don't go wake up your Daddy before his alarm goes off.

But so far I'm doing pretty well. In fact, I think I'll let her peel a boiled egg today.