The beauty of the body from a child’s perspective

I’ve shared before how I committed myself, come what may, that I was going to nurse my children for as long as possible, and ended up going 18 months for both of them.

Witchlette seems as though she remembers Witchling nursing, though I believe she only remembers the idea of it, because she was only 2 1/2 to 3 and I stopped about a year and a half ago.

Pause: how in the world did my two Littles get SO big in such a short amount of time!

So, Witchlette remembers, at least the idea. She knows that she has nipples and that nipples boobs make milk for feeding babies, and the milk comes from the nipple.

Witchling I am positive doesn’t actually remember nursing, but he has been exposed to the idea. He also knows boobs make milk and that milk comes from nipples.

He also knows that he has nipples, and therefore explains that he has boobs. When a ball hits his chest, he writhes in pain, sharing how much his boob hurts.

Today, while walking through Target holding his Iron Man lovie, Witchling very innocently lifted up his shirt and make slurping noises. I couldn’t have held in a giggle if I tried!

“Is Iron Man hungry?”

“He’s thirsty, so he’s having milk from my boob!”

It’s going to break his heart to know that his nipples don’t function that way, but it’s beyond sweet to see him love his lovies that way.

Boys of that age when I was little would be corrected. I mean, girls would have been corrected. That’s just not something that gets played. Those are private parts.

I’m so happy my kids are growing up in a shift. I’m so happy that my son loves his amazing body and everything it could do, plus more.


A simple motion

Witchlette recently watched a piece about garbage in the ocean. She has committed herself to doing her part.

We went shopping for Moana-esque table decor for her birthday party. It’s still over a month off, but luau decor goes away by the first of July. So, we got ours.

Upon as we placed the table cloths in the cart, Witchlette turned to me and said, “Remember, I don’t want balloons anymore. Ever. They’re not good for the turtles. And I want to turtles to be safe and healthy.”

Gleaming with pride, I applauded her efforts, because each small act can lead to something big.

What they know…

Children are what they know. It’s nature.

My kids speak English because they’re parents speak English. They sing songs in Spanish because that’s what they learn in school. Witchlette recognizes me in a croud when I give her the I-LOVE-YOU sign, because that’s my second language.

And, so it seems, that any word or phrase with “guard” in it, for Witchling, gets an “As”.

When playing sword fighting, and adding fencing rules, the kids now start with “En garde… Allez!” Except Witchling hears, and so shouts, “Asgard… Allez!”

At a friend’s pool the other night, he noted all of the “Asgards” around. And he asked when the “Asgards” would blow their next break whistle.

Asgards, keeping everyone safe, one pool day at a time.

Morning blessings

Friday morning, Witchlette woke before her alarm and skipped into our room, saw me at my altar, and came right over to join in the beginning of my morning session. We started with the elemental call song, singing each line once as we lit each of the four candles and continuing it three more times before lighting the center spirit candle to connect them all. I then lit both of the deity candles.

I played a song and we meditated together, holding hands.

After the song, Witchlette asked to pull Runes as she had a question: Why did Odin hang himself from the World Tree?

When first explaining Runes to her, I said that if you wanted to ask the gods a question, you ask it and the answer is presented. I did not go into the concept of fortune telling nor did I ever say they were to be personal questions. So, she asked about Odin. Here is her answer:

He hung from the tree as a sacrifice for a time to change himself in a way not related to war (Tiwaz is merkstave). According to the lore, because of this blood sacrifice, he became not only the god of war but also the god of language, including poetry, and Magick. Fitting 😊

After her reading, I extinguished the deity candles and allowed her to extinguish the element candles.

Thank you earth for the plants, flowers and trees. Blessed be.

Thank you air for the wind, storms, and clouds. Blessed be.

Thank you fire for the camp fires, fireplaces, and outside fires. Blessed be.

Thank you water for the rain, rivers, and oceans. Blessed be.

Thank you spirit for all the men, women, and children and all the living things on the earth. Blessed be.

Talking about language

Language is one of the best evolutions of humanity.

Language is an amazing connection that bridges worlds together.

Language is awesome.

Every fucking word.

Now that we have kindergarten settled, and after school dance registration complete, I can think about other elementary school topics.

Both of my kids know the phrase “son if a bitch” thanks to Modern Family and, hilariously, Ant-Man.

The school Witchlette is going to is a K-8 school. My understanding is that the school is broken into three wings and the kids transition between wings every three years. K-2, 3-5, 6-8. I don’t think Witchlette is going to be around the middle school students much, if at all.

But she is going to be around order kids. And kids seem to be getting older every year.

And she’s going to hear some things that she doesn’t know, some words she’s never heard before. Some words she doesn’t have context to.

Last night, I laid the foundation for now and for years to come.

When you’re in big kid school, you’re going to hear some older kids say grown-up words. Like son of a not-biscuit.

You mean \whisper\ son of a bitch?

Yes. And other grown up words. I want you to know that if at any time at all you hear a word you don’t understand, you can come and ask me. Even if it’s a grown-up word. You can say it to me and we will talk about what it means. And if it’s a grown up word, you have to wait until you’re a grown-up to say it.


Remember when I said precisely and you asked what it meant, and I told you?


Well, you can ask me about words other people say, too. And we’ll talk about what they mean. Even grown-up words.

Mommy, what does /whisper/ son of a bitch/ mean?

Bitch is a word used to describe ladies in a not nice way. It’s a very insulting word for ladies. And by adding “son of a”, it’s insulting women and their sons. So it would be insulting to me and Witchling, Ms. K, C, and T, G and his mamas…

Daddy and Nana.

Right. And Daddy and Nana.

Why do people say it?

It’s become something that you say when you’re frustrated. But its meaning is insulting. That’s why we say biscuit. Biscuits are yummy and delicious foods and you can’t insult a biscuit.

And biscuits don’t have sons.

My ultimate hope is that last night I laid the foundation for the teenage years. For the mommy, I went to a party and now I’m buzzed and uncomfortable and please pick me up and please don’t be mad. I hope I have set up the continuous constant flow of communication that will keep her safe and whole for all her years to come.


My work roommate became ill this year. While she is certainly on the mend, to say it was an easy time would be an understatement.

To thank her cohort for their support, she crafted a vase for each of us. Mine sits on my front entry table, which is slowly being refined into the common-area family altar space.

After Witchlette’s dance recital, we got some roses and they have been sitting nicely for a little over a week. Just a few days ago, they started the really show signs of wilting.

The kids realized something beautiful happened to the felled petals when they were put in the stream of the oil diffuser.

Needless to say, felled rose petals became plucked rose petals and before I knew it, there were no more rose petals.


The Littles had a surprise for me waiting in my bedroom.

They used the rose petals, along with a few silk petals, to decorate my Frigg totem “because Allmother likes pretty things.”

I am so beyond blessed.