A man in the elevator smiles at Nora…
Man: “A boy, right?”
Me: “Sure, it’s possible.”
Man: 
Me: “No gender identity has been expressed yet….”
Man: 
Me: “She has a vagina, though.”
Man: 
Me: “Have a nice day!” (exit elevator. High five Nora.)
Category Archives: Kids
Sure I’ll Take Full Credit
I took Nora to a music class in the park this morning, and the kid next to her was dancing up a storm:
Me: “Look at her go! How old is she?”
Nanny: “Just turned one. Her Mom used to be a Rockette, so you can see she got the dancing gene.”
Me: “Totally! That’s great.”
Nanny: “Your baby has good rhythm too! You must be a really good dancer!”
Me: “Well, I don’t want to brag but….yes. Yes I am.”
Actual footage of me at my friend’s wedding this weekend:
Hermoso
Almost every day, Nora and I go into the same corner store as part of our morning routine. Everyone knows us there. And every single time we go in, the guy working the deli counter smiles at Nora and says “Ah, hermoso!”
Now, I’m no Spanish expert (despite having taken Spanish in middle school, high school, and part of college…) but I’m pretty sure “hermoso” means beautiful for a boy, whereas if you were to call a girl beautiful, you would say “hermosa.”
So either the deli guy thinks Nora is a boy, and has thought this for 9 months now, or he is simply using the word “hermoso” as a gender-neutral term. Since my Spanish knowledge is spotty (#ivyleagueeducation 
), I really couldn’t be sure.
So today we conducted an experiment. I put Nora in the girliest, most unmistakably feminine outfit she owns:
We enter the store:
Deli Guy: “Ahhhh! Hermoso! Is very nice dress! Pretty butterflies!”
Me (relieved that he is obviously using ‘hermoso’ interchangeably, and has known all along Nora is a girl): “Aww gracias! That’s very nice!”
Deli Guy: “Ah de nada! You very welcome.”
(I smile and begin to walk towards dairy section)
Deli Guy: “But why he wear dress?”
Starts With an F
Completing sentences with words from a word bank. One of the words is “friend.”
Me: “It’s always nice to make a new….”
Kid: <blank stare>
Me: “Starts with an ‘f’…”
Kid: “FUCK.”
He’s not wrong.
Totally Imperceptible
Me (to myself, in the mirror): “Ok, this [insert any unsightly skin imperfection– zit, wrinkle, mole, scar] is really bothering me, but I’m sure it’s one of those things that only I notice, and it’s totally imperceptible to everyone else.” (Vow not to focus on it. Convince self it’s not even there.)
10 minutes later, wake Nora up.
Nora: <Opens eyes. Immediately zooms in on skin imperfection with sniper-like focus. Lunges at it with two hands. Slaps it. Twists it between her little devil fingers. Tries to yank it off. Bites at it. Cackles maniacally.>
Like My Toilet
Kid: “You smell like my toilet.”
Me: “Excuse me? That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
Kid: “But it’s true though!”
Me: “Do your math.”
One hour later, after I use his bathroom and notice he has the same hand lotion on his toilet that I use.
Me: “Wait! So did you mean I smell like that lotion you keep on your toilet?”
Kid: “Yeah. That’s what I said– you smell like my toilet.”
Me: “There’s a better way to say that.”
Kid: “Oh, sorry.”
(pause)
Kid: “You smell the SAME as my toilet.”
Accurate
She really is a scarily 50/50 blend of me and Eric.
We’re hoping the Eric side wins out.
Parenthood is Just a Slow Erosion of Your Convictions
Me: “It’s so annoying and dumb when parents use squealing, high-pitched baby talk with their kids. Babies are humans. Just talk to them in a human voice about normal things, for christ’s sake.”
(Discovers that baby-talk makes Nora smile)
Me:
Me: “Babies need to explore and fall and get hurt sometimes. It’s how they learn.”
(Sees Nora crawling toward something dangerous)
Me:
Me: “Talking about babies is boring as hell. I’m not going to be the person who has a kid and only cares about baby things. And I definitely don’t care what other moms do with their kids.”
(Overhears parent talking about a new trend in baby-feeding she’s been trying, and how her baby can now eat without her help.)
Me: 
Me: “Let’s be honest, babies only need ONE toy. None of this baby-takes-over-the-home-with-her-endless-crap nonsense. My apartment is my zen place.”
(Sees Nora stays occupied when she has a variety of choices)
Me: 
(
my actual apartment right now )
Me: “Under NO circumstances will I listen to other parents talk about their child’s poop.”
(Overhears parent claim she diagnosed her child’s illness by inspecting the color, consistency, and odor change in his poop)
Me: 
Me: “Above all else, parenting is not a competition. None of this petty bickering bullshit. We are a team.”
(Eric thinks Nora’s crying in her crib because she has a dirty diaper. I say she’s testing us. Eric goes to change her diaper, and there’s nothing. Nora laughs at him.)
Me: 
(One hour passes)
Me: 
(One day passes)
Me: 
(8 months later)
Me: “Hey remember that time I was right?”
It’s Nice to Share
When Nora is playing and another kid wants her toy:
Me (in sing-song voice): “It’s ok, Nora. You can share. It’s nice to share! Sharing is caring, remember? Let’s sing a song about sharing! 
”
Eric takes a crouton from my salad…
Me: 
Infinity
Kid: “What’s the highest number?”
Me: “There is no highest number. Numbers keep going and going and going…they are infinite.”
Kid: “What’s infinite?”
Me: “Having no end. Numbers go to infinity…”
Kid: “Then that’s the end. Infinity.”
Me: “Well, no– the very definition of infinity is ‘no end.'”
Kid: “So infinity is NOT the highest number?”
Me: “Infinity isn’t actually even a number, it’s a concept.”
Kid: “What’s a concept?”
Me: “Like, an idea…”
Kid: “So infinity is the highest idea?”
Me: “Well, no, there’s no ‘highest idea.’ That’s not a thing.”
Kid: “I don’t get it. What’s infinity then?”
Me: “It’s hard to explain.”
Kid: (silence)
Me: (prays conversation is over)
Kid: “So like, is there an infinity and one?”
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