Raisins anyone?

A co-worker of mine reminded me of a Lily story… one I am not terribly proud of, yet it’s worth including here as an example of how we can be bad parents without even knowing it.

First of all, you should know that I don’t care if Lily eats stuff off the floor. Especially our floor… but hey, I’ve let her eat off the floor of the airport and she’s still alive today. I’m one of those first-time-parents that freak long-time-parents out by my willingness to let my child learn about gravity by falling down, put foreign objects into her mouth, touch hot things, etc, etc. Some would call this neglect; we call it parenting by example (i.e. “wow, that hurt, that’s an example of what you shouldn’t do!”).

SO, my dear, sweet, wonderful daughter was enjoying a handful of raisins one day and it was the first time we’d offered her this dried treat. She seemed to think the shriveled little bits tasty and, in characteristic toddler style, dropped many on the floor, most of which was scarffed up by her shadow (the dog).

Her diaper that eve was amazing. The raisins had passed through her body completely unharmed… plump and beautiful looking even, despite the fact that they smelled like stinky toddler poo.

Some of you know where this is going.

A couple of days later I find a raisin on the floor and despite the fact that it is bigger than the ones I remember being in the box, I absent-mindedly offer this morsel to my daughter making the assumption that it was one of the many she scattered on the floor. My brilliant daughter refused to eat it and this is the ONE redeeming quality of this entire story. It was about an hour later that I realized where it came from and at that moment had to completely rethink my ability to parent. How many of you can say you’ve offered your child something she’d already eaten and that had exited her BUTT?

It’s a rare thing. I hope.