My children spend most of their lives naked as little jay birds. I’m pretty sure our property has been unofficially designated a nudist colony. This past summer, I don’t think my daughter had clothes on when we weren’t leaving the house. But even beyond our borders, my kids have never had any qualms about “putting themselves out there.” Now that they’re getting a little bit older, I try to teach them the importance of “time and place,” but when they were toddlers? Ha. I let my toddlers run around naked in public and I’m not sorry.
Look, it’s not like I defiantly march them nude into libraries and grocery stores to make some sort of body positive, political statement. I don’t look at signs that say “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and, in protest, encourage my kids to disrobe. If we leave the house we put on clothes. But they regularly failed to grasp the concept of which body parts are supposed to be hidden from public view and which are fair game. They’d run out of a public bathroom with their underwear around their ankles (or, when they were younger, remove their diapers all together). My daughter had an inexplicable habit of lifting her shirt or dress above her head everywhere and anywhere for no discernible reason. It’s not that I’d let these things go unchecked — I would casually put an end to their random acts of streaking — I just didn’t get flustered or bent out of shape about it. I’d usually chuckle, snap a picture (because what is parenting if not a decades long blackmail scheme?) and tell them it was time to put their clothes back on. This casual approach is very much intentional. Continued…Read full original article…
Original publication 18 September 2018
Posted on NatCorn 1st October 2018