Parenting Curiosities

Last night, I was watching my three-month-old son sleep when his face suddenly broke into the most beautiful smile. His eyelids fluttered. His little fingers twitched. For a solid minute, he looked like he was experiencing pure joy. My first thought? “Oh my gosh, he’s dreaming!” My second thought? “Wait…can babies even dream?” If you’ve

My daughter was 13 months old and hadn’t said a single word. Not “mama.” Not “dada.” Nothing that even remotely sounded like a real word. Meanwhile, my friend’s baby—three weeks younger—was already saying “ball,” “dog,” and “more.” I smiled and congratulated her, but inside I was panicking. When do babies start talking? Was my daughter

I’ll never forget the first time my daughter responded to her name. She was six months old, playing with her favourite rattle on the living room floor. I said “Emma!” from across the room, and she whipped her head around so fast I thought she’d hurt her neck. Her face lit up with the biggest

I was folding laundry when I heard a thud. Not a loud thud—more like a soft bump—but enough to make me whip my head around. There was my 4-month-old daughter, flat on her back instead of on her belly, where I’d left her exactly 30 seconds ago. She looked as surprised as I felt. Wait.

The truth is, I thought my daughter would never walk. I watched babies at playdates take their first steps at 10 months, gliding across the room like tiny Olympians. Meanwhile, mine was content to crawl, cruise, and collect every dust bunny under the sofa. At 14 months, I started panicking. At 15, I asked the

I was changing my daughter’s diaper at 3:47 AM when it happened. She was exactly 14 weeks old, and I was running on two hours of sleep and pure caffeine. I made some ridiculous raspberry sound—honestly, I don’t even remember why—and she let out this tiny, squeaky giggle. I froze. Did that just happen? Was

I’ll never forget the morning I found my 8-month-old daughter halfway across the living room. Not crawling forward like I’d been expecting and waiting for. Nope. She was scooting backward, getting farther and farther from the toy she was trying to reach, looking increasingly frustrated with every push. I panicked for exactly three seconds, wondering

Last Tuesday, I asked my 8-year-old how school was. “Fine,” she said. What did you do today? “Stuff.” Did anything interesting happen? “Nope.” Then five minutes later, she launched into a 20-minute monologue about the exact strategy her friend used to beat the final boss in some video game I’ve never heard of, complete with

I was changing my daughter’s diaper at 7 weeks old when it happened. She looked directly at me, and her entire face lit up with the biggest, gummiest grin I’d ever seen. Her eyes crinkled. Her whole body wiggled. And I… completely froze because my phone was across the room and I had nothing to

I’ll never forget the panic I felt at my daughter’s two-month checkup when the pediatrician asked, “Is she holding her head up during tummy time yet?” I froze. Was she? I mean, kind of? Sometimes? I suddenly felt like I’d failed some crucial parenting test I didn’t even know I was taking. That night, I