Parenting Experts on Twitter

I've seen this happen a few times very recently. A Twitter account announces that he's expecting his first child. Baby is born. Then, inevitably, sometime during the first year, this first-time parent starts coming out as a parenting expert. Almost invariably, they come out adamantly opposed to something based on apparently having read the most absurd take on that thing. When to introduce solid foods. Developmental concerns. Sleep training. Whatever. Doesn't matter. One kid. Parenting expert. "You're an awful person if you do <X>."

If I've learned anything over the past ten years, it is that little of my parenting experience is generally applicable to other kids. Sometimes it isn't even applicable from kid-to-kid.

W is nine months old. Aside from a brief moment of experimentation early on, W has refused to take a bottle. Or medicine. Or food. Or anything. Other than breast milk direct from the source. Until yesterday. A switch flipped and he decided he was done with nursing. No warning. No transition. Just done. He will now drink (eat?) exclusively from his sippy-cup thing. I guess we'll see how long this'll last, but it feels very definite and permanent.

Today. This morning. Just now. Was the first time I've assisted W in drinking a full bottle, which he absolutely pounded. Nine months old. It's just such a deviation from his siblings.

After I wrapped up my afternoon meetings yesterday, I packed up my laptop, Starlink and some snacks (peanuts, almonds and a quart of water – which is never enough water but I never think about that when I'm packing things up). I grabbed H, J and A and we drove over to the park. K had a homework project he had neglected for the past three weeks, so he had to stay home to work on it, which works out well since he'd always rather be at home.

I wrapped up my work while at the park. All too often, the kids fail to switch to "park mode" until after we've been there for a while. They're bored. They're not playing well together. They're getting hurt. And then something happens – in this case, a particular family arrived – and then suddenly they're all playing perfectly, and my plans to hop into the car and head home are stymied by my disinterest in interrupting their play.

S texted and asked me to make dinner when we returned. Eggs and french toast. We finished up watching one of The Librarian movies and then off to bed. It was an excellent day.