They had an assembly where two cops came to talk about how cool and normal and good having a school resource officer is, and they pantomimed eating each other’s boots until they got kicked out. The Principal is extremely mad that I laughed until I started crying—when he told me that part of the reason for the suspension was for breaking the rules by refusing to take off their outdoor footwear.
I feel like a fuckup of a parent a lot of the time, but I guess we did something right.
While this isn’t Rampart-related I guess I can answer:
If you’re privileged enough to have one of you be at home for a while, the first few years are chill as hell, so don’t worry about them. At all. Babies and toddlers have, like, five needs to fulfill, and then they’re good. Did you poop yourself? Are you hungry or hurt? Are you tired or cold? That’s the whole thing. It can be exhausting and frustrating, but it’s not complicated. You literally can’t fuck it up if you’re actually trying. And if you can’t stay home? Daycare workers also know this to be true. The babies are safe.
Beyond that? I dunno, I’m just my big autistic self, and I guess they just picked up the being a decent person thing by example. I always talk about calling the police within the framework of, “I need Men with Guns to maybe come kill somebody, so this is a real god damn emergency.” And anything less than that is probably bullshit that you should take care of yourself. We also do some stuff in the neighbourhood that I guess would be considered mutual aid, like community gardening, and communally looking out for small kids as if they’re our own. I just live into my values, and the kids picked up on it. You’re going to be fine.
