Crabmommy, Cookie Magazine’s Blog

When I was pregnant I had very purist intentions regarding television: I swore my child would grow up without it. But by the time my little one was at the point where she could gaze and focus, I tried as hard as I could to engage her in TV. Exhausted, and lonely in a new and rural town with a never-ending winter, I plopped her in front of the box and prayed the Teletubbies would captivate her. I had heard those dire warnings—that Teletubbies were hypnotic—and I hoped they were true. Read More »

We rarely talk about the anger of being a parent. We know the lurking danger—of anger turning physical, or crossing a line. That means we also don't talk about the fact that we all lose it. Or the corollary fact that sometimes anger works.

So begins a recent post by Lisa Belkin at Motherlode, her New York Times blog. Motherlode has generally pithy posts on the usual range of parenting topics, and as a crabby mommy I got pretty excited when I sat down to read this one. Entitled "Can Yelling at your Kids be Good?" I prepared myself for something a little different, a little risqué. As one who frequently yells, the Crabmommy likes nothing more than a potential vindication of my colicky character. So when Belkin introduced guest blogger Susie Orman Schnall who shares a story of a moment she calls "frightening and memorable," I took notice.

That's one interesting idea that came through in this New York Times article by pediatrician Perri Klass, who suggests that learning manners is a key component of a child's development. Rather than simply seeing manners as bonus points to a healthy child visit, Dr. Klass concludes that manners are part of a child's growth and well-being—"another side of the journey every child makes from helplessness to autonomy."

"He's reading at a fourth-grade level even though he's only in third," a dad tells me. We're at an indoor soccer class where Crabkid is meant to be dribbling and trapping the ball along with her fellow four-year-olds but she's lying on the floor instead. She's bored. Me too. Because I'm trapped with Bragdaddy.

Little Potato. Tiny Tomato. Big Tiny. Baby Lady. Littles. Litty. Tines. Teeny-Weeny. Ween. Neen. Bean. Cuddlebunny. Budgie. Budgit. Littleton. Peedles. Sweetieluffs. Luffy. Coconut...

You get it. The above is just the beginning of a list of nicknames Crabhub and I have for Crabkid. And these don't even include the many that riff on her actual name. Which is Adolfa! (Kidding!)

Nicknaming: some do it to death, others don't seem to do it at all.

"Not a snowman, a snowgirl," she corrected me. "It's a girl."

For as long as she has been able to speak, Crabkid has displayed feminist tendencies, reminding me that we still live in a man's world and that even I have grown complacent within it. Take that snowgirl. Why not? Why should a sexless hump of snow with a scarf and buttons be masculine? After all the carrot's on the top tier of the snowballs, not sticking out between or below.

*Disclaimer: this holiday newsletter contains elements of parody. Which is a kind of joke. Which means you are to take it with a large tablespoon of salt.* (Seriously, some people need to be told.)