Conversations with a Toddler: The one that proves 3yo is FFB*

*FFB = frum from birth, ortho-lingo for raised religious.

I wasn't raised with religion. I know that sounds hard to believe, but since my parents wanted me to make my own decisions about religion we didn't discuss or participate in religion until I was in high school and my dad worried we'd fall prey to some cult if we didn't have some kind of background in something to pull from.

Well, today I had a conversation with my 3year-old that I couldn't have participated in until after I was 20 years old.

dd: How can Aba (daddy) be the king?

me: Because he's the Aba of the house, that makes him king.

dd: But how can there be two kings?

Already a deep concept.

me: There aren't two kings, Aba is the king and Ima (me, mommy) is the queen. That's it.

dd: But Hashem (G-d) is the King.

Stunned silence.

me: That's true, Hashem is the King of the whole world and Aba is king of this house.

Wow. So exciting and validating to know my children are getting a head start on all the questioning I navigated in college. Course I hope I always know the right thing to say even when I don't have the answers!

*FFB = frum from birth, ortho-lingo for raised religious.

I wasn't raised with religion. I know that sounds hard to believe, but since my parents wanted me to make my own decisions about religion we didn't discuss or participate in religion until I was in high school and my dad worried we'd fall prey to some cult if we didn't have some kind of background in something to pull from.

Well, today I had a conversation with my 3year-old that I couldn't have participated in until after I was 20 years old.

dd: How can Aba (daddy) be the king?

me: Because he's the Aba of the house, that makes him king.

dd: But how can there be two kings?

Already a deep concept.

me: There aren't two kings, Aba is the king and Ima (me, mommy) is the queen. That's it.

dd: But Hashem (G-d) is the King.

Stunned silence.

me: That's true, Hashem is the King of the whole world and Aba is king of this house.

Wow. So exciting and validating to know my children are getting a head start on all the questioning I navigated in college. Course I hope I always know the right thing to say even when I don't have the answers!

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Judging favorably: The toddler edition

We have no shortage of night wakenings here even though my "baby" is two years old. Generally it's my three year old with a night terror once or twice and while startling, they don't require any act on my part besides a comforting "shush shush." Last night it was the lil man, screaming with blood curdling effectiveness that a child works to perfect just to keep mommy on her toes and her hair on end. I went in and the poor thing was thrashing about moaning "the butterfly, the butterfly" the same way a horror movie actor would repeat the zombies, the butler, the horror, etc. The idea gave me a chuckle and a pretty funny mental image of Attack of the Killer Butterflies. I calmed him down with a little tummy rubbing and a few good patronizing "Mommy won't let the butterflies hurt you" thrown in for good measure. What an imagination! I thought.

I returned to my comfy spot on the couch still smiling at the idea that the poor babe was scared of butterflies. Twenty minutes later I was attacked by the butterfly, which was in fact a low flying stink bug! It buzzed aggressively, dived bombed me a few times before settling in the nearby light fixture only venturing out when I thought I was safe to give a few more buzzes before landing in a different location. Definitely startled any smugness or patronizing mommy knows best feelings right outta my noggin!

Butterfly. Nope.

Dangerous. Nope.

Buzzing, winged creature that would scare the pants off someone sleeping or relaxing in the dark. YOU BETCHA!

We have no shortage of night wakenings here even though my "baby" is two years old. Generally it's my three year old with a night terror once or twice and while startling, they don't require any act on my part besides a comforting "shush shush." Last night it was the lil man, screaming with blood curdling effectiveness that a child works to perfect just to keep mommy on her toes and her hair on end. I went in and the poor thing was thrashing about moaning "the butterfly, the butterfly" the same way a horror movie actor would repeat the zombies, the butler, the horror, etc. The idea gave me a chuckle and a pretty funny mental image of Attack of the Killer Butterflies. I calmed him down with a little tummy rubbing and a few good patronizing "Mommy won't let the butterflies hurt you" thrown in for good measure. What an imagination! I thought.

I returned to my comfy spot on the couch still smiling at the idea that the poor babe was scared of butterflies. Twenty minutes later I was attacked by the butterfly, which was in fact a low flying stink bug! It buzzed aggressively, dived bombed me a few times before settling in the nearby light fixture only venturing out when I thought I was safe to give a few more buzzes before landing in a different location. Definitely startled any smugness or patronizing mommy knows best feelings right outta my noggin!

Butterfly. Nope.

Dangerous. Nope.

Buzzing, winged creature that would scare the pants off someone sleeping or relaxing in the dark. YOU BETCHA!

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