As you might have guessed, I'm a liberal. I'm raising my kid like a liberal. Since she was two, I've impressed upon her that it's her body -- no one has the right to do anything to her body that she doesn't want them to do to her body, no one can kiss her if she doesn't want them to, if she wants to pierce it, she can, if she doesn't want to, that's her business, yap yap yap.
And also, as a good liberal parent, I limit the amount of TV and refined sugar the kid has access to. One hour of TV per day and less if we can manage it, and she only gets candy on Saturday and not even then if we can manage it. (Except when she's with her grandmother, and then all bets are off.)
Well. She's seven now. I've decided the terrible twos are nothing, nothing, to the twisty sevens. She has become a cunning, vicious little lawyer, this seven year old feminist I have raised up. "Why can't I have candy whenever I want it?" she demands of me yesterday. "Isn't it my body? Can't I do whatever I want to with it?"
6 hours ago