Lazy parenting tip: #4,856

The nightly bedtime story has the desired effect ... on the dog.

The nightly bedtime story has the desired effect … on the dog.

So: Scott (the husband) and I are devotees of “lazy parenting.” I didn’t realize it was even a thing … I mean: *we* call ourselves lazy parents, but I just googled it before writing this article, and apparently(!) there are all kinds of articles about how to be better lazy parents! Maybe I’ll read them later.

Anyway: here are four times we’ve been going-about-our-parenting-business, Fisk family style, only to realize that not every style-of-parenting is Fisk family style (something we tend to forget), followed by the real reason we started writing our own children’s books (that may *seem* not-lazy … but just wait for it).

5) We were at Scott’s parents’ house and daughter-Arina (I forget how old she was, b/c it’s hard for me to keep track of such things) came to tell us that she used “the potty” but couldn’t wash her hands. She was too young/short to reach the sink, apparently.

Scott, with a sigh: “You can figure that out, Rina! Close the toilet lid; climb onto the counter; wash your hands!”

Rina: “Okay! Thanks!”

Scott’s sister, a fantastic mother who arranges nature-walks with her kids: [raised eyebrows / shocked expression]

Me: “We teach self-sufficiency early.”

4) That moment when you realize that it’s not always socially acceptable to talk about how the ipad is the BEST-INVENTION-EVER (kudos to Steve Jobs), b/c it keeps your kids out of your hair.

The socially-acceptable-way-to-talk-up-the-ipad: it’s educational.

The real reason the ipad is the best? It allows your kids to play virtual LEGOS (hello Minecraft!) that you don’t have to pick up. Or step on.

3) I was trolling my cousin on Facebook, excited to see pictures of her new baby. She posted an update, w/o said pictures. When folks said: omg.we.want.photos.now, she pointed out that her husband had to put their other kids to bed and couldn’t post photos until after they were settled.

Me, in the FB comment I probably shouldn’t have written (but, seriously: it’s like she had started talking in a foreign language or something):

Just tell the hubby to toss some blankets&pillows on the floor, Fisk family style.

2) That moment when you think “why not? the kids are with me, but i can totally go see my friend at a bar!” and realize they’re the only ones drinking Long Island Iced Tea (w/o the Long Island part).

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^This^ is why the Fisk family belongs in Spain, per my friends’ lovely writing about that time they took their baby on the Camino de Santiago (shout-out to Todd & Brittany Kennedy):

We should be clear in saying … that [Spaniards] do not subscribe to a worldview in which everything has to be children first — a perspective we too often see in America (you know, the way that too often produces children who think they are the center of the universe when they head off for us to teach them in college). No, this was a means of emphasizing the family by integrating family activities into the daily lives of adults … It wasn’t just out of necessity that bars were multipurpose and full of kids. It was a sign of how Spanish family life is fully integrated into daily life. There isn’t adult space and kid space. There is simply space. Kids are a part of it. So are the grandparents. And that’s why there’s a playground in every city center.

 Also: SIESTA; or, another reason Spain is the country that the universe made especially for me.

1) Part of the reason we’ve started writing our own children’s books? Most of them are too.damn.long. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE books. It’s kinda my job (having my PhD in English and teaching it and all). And I go through A LOT of books with my kids, lazy parenting style (we listen to audiobooks in the car).

At night, we want to read to our kids. But we’re also tired and kinda want to be away from them. We found ourselves always reaching for poems (b/c they’re pretty much guaranteed to be easy and short). But there’s only so many times you can read Llama Llama and Go The F**k To Sleep (kidding — calm down).

Enter: The Pirate Train. You can read it in 4 mins. 55 secs. Or, you can go true Fisk-family-style, and let someone else read it for you. 😉