LETTER FOR ALL PARENTS

LETTER FOR ALL PARENTS

July 13, 2025

It always starts the same way.  
A well-meaning voice.  
A quick comment.  
A snapshot of your day mistaken for the whole story.  

“He shouldn’t have that in his mouth all the time.”  
“She’s too big to be carried like that.”  
“He doesn’t have any teeth yet?”  
“Why does she still need help eating?”  

They see five seconds.  
We live the full twenty-four.  

They don’t know most days he goes hours without it  
and nothing falls apart.  

They don’t know the carrier kept her safe when she wouldn’t let go.  
That the teeth came later.  
And eating on her own did too.  
That food isn’t just food.  
It’s trust.  
It’s trying.  
It’s time.  

Still, the commentary comes.  
Not because they know.  
But because they think they have seen enough.  

Parenting isn’t built in five-second windows.  
It’s built in every breath.  
Every nap.  
Every meltdown.  
Every breakthrough.  
Every “Again!” and every “Not today.”  

So when the advice lands like a verdict  
about teeth, or habits, or who they might become,  
we remember what they didn’t see.  

The effort.  
The thoughtfulness.  
The patience.  
The way we have already questioned everything.  
The way we already care.  

This isn’t about one habit.  
It’s about remembering  
that what works for one doesn’t fit all.  
That context matters.  
That care can look different and still be right.  

If you feel the urge to say something,  
start with Hello.  
Stay long enough to see the whole day.  
Then, maybe, offer advice.  

But only if asked.