[...] is seriously ‘tell her Michael Stipe will get in her closet if she doesn’t close the door**’ level [...]

[...] I am adding this to my list of crap to do to my kid some day. Get him on the Zamboni at a professional hockey game and spend the rest of his life telling him he [...]

[...] Reasons you should have CPS on speed dial [...]

[...] And how I said I’d tell my kids that he would get in if they didn’t close their closet door? [...]

Both sing the alphabet forwards, and backwards (“Now I know my Z-Y-X’es, join me when I walk to Texas.”).

They know that a Cow goes “moo”, a Cat goes “Meow”, and a Mazda goes “Zoom-Zoom”.

My kids believe when they have nightmares, they can wake up and when they go back to sleep, their nightmares have becomes cake.

[...] In emails with people recently, and in reading through certain blog world scandals that don’t need to be rehashed at the moment (but seriously, WTF is going on with THAT?), and in trying to verbalize my worn-out-ness with blogs in different circles and communities, I’ve come up with a kind of analogy about more ways I would treat my hypothetical future child(ren) terribly. [...]

2) They learned to say “ewww” from us. This is mostly precluded by running up to someone and smelling them.

3) When asked “where do stickers go?”, they lift their shirts and show their bellies.

4) When told “arms up”, they dutifully raise their arms for being lifted, getting dressed (we did teach them something useful)

My husband and I have separate small closets. My door must be closed, but his can remain open without bothering me, they are his monsters.