One day, I couldn’t find my Glamour magazine.  My daughter E loves to flip through my magazines, especially ones with fashion and beauty articles and perfume samples, but she knows not to take them until I’ve “censored” them, meaning I rip out any racy content, unfit for her.  I quickly forgot about the magazine and still couldn’t locate it that evening.   Maybe it ended up in the recycling bin.  Again, I gave up and turned to my stack of books, waiting to be cracked open.  The next morning, I started making beds and lifted up my son J’s pillow to fluff it up.  Sitting under my 5-year old boy’s pillow was my Glamour magazine!

Another morning, I spied a Barbie, her chest bare, sprawled on the floor.  Only J and I were home, and we always insist that the kids put away their toys before bedtime, so it must be J’s doing.  I snickered a bit; wondering how early is too early to have the birds-and-the-bees talk.  Somehow, although curiosity and probably admiration encouraged J to remove the Barbie clothing, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t quite understand why he did it.  When broached about the Barbie’s half-naked state, he mumbled, blushed and said he didn’t know.  I left it at that. [Read more...]