Intentional-ish

I try to do many things with my family (so, so, so many things says my overstimulated ears and scribbled agenda book). But other things?  I have to tell you.  I have blatantly disregarded. Given up.  Failed to attempt.  I have "intentionally ruled out to increase the simplicity of our domesticity".  But really, I've just shrugged them off and live vicariously through friends who shine in these areas.  I love to talk about this with absolutely everyone I know.  It's a refreshing conversation that flips the typical parenting narrative on its head.  Let's talk for a minute about the things we DON'T do.  Won't do.  I'll go first. I don't keep track of developmental milestones. For instance, I have no idea when my babies get teeth.  I'm usually alerted by well-meaning friends and family as they exclaim, "Wow!  Look at that tooth coming in!".  I smile and nod- and promptly forget.  I have no idea what order they came in, no id

The hundred tiny talks looks like this.  I was walking through Barnes and Noble with my oldest this weekend, we passed the "Extraordinary Value" section- (you know the rows I mean, near the front with giant books on hang gliding, sourdough bread, the history of flamenco dancing).  Tucked into these titles was a huge book of human anatomy.  I picked it up and flipped to a page at random, landing on the bones of the pelvis and femur.  A few flips later, we saw some detailed diagrams of ovaries and the uterus. (Man this blog post took a turn, didn't it?) I pointed this out to my daughter, aged 8.  We had a 30 second discussion about ovaries, how women have them and they hold all your eggs, releasing them through the Fallopian tube and into the uterus through a period of your life.  She nodded, pointing to the space on my body where the diagram told her ovaries were located.  We closed the heavy book and immediately turned our attention to an equally huge book on origami.