Shh.

The moment I realized I’m not the only one with opinions.

The scene was cozy.

Two kids, snuggled up on the couch.Blankets. Tablets. Shoulder-to-shoulder like they actually like each other today.

My husband and I were deep in what felt like a very adult conversation—mapping out where to plant trees across our property. You know, normal, casual things like:

• Should we line the driveway?

• Create a visual barrier?

• Buy the neighbor’s land someday?

Just your average “future legacy planning” while your kids are ten feet away watching… whatever it is they watch.

At some point, I got up to grab cheese sticks. Because apparently, in addition to visionary land developer, I am also… snack delivery.

I walk back in the room.Start unwrapping.Standing there like a humble cheese stick concierge.

And that’s when I noticed it.

One of those YouTube videos.

You know the ones.Where someone is watching someone else play a video game…while talking about it…for far too long…with far too much enthusiasm.

I pause. “What are you watching?”

She immediately pulls the tablet to her chest.Defensive. Protective. Slightly suspicious.

And in that moment, I didn’t launch into a lecture.Didn’t cite screen time studies. Didn’t go full “because I said so.”

I said: “I don’t like that.”

She looks at me. Completely unfazed.

And says: “Well, I do.”

…

I dropped my hip. Gave her the look.

You know the one.

And without missing a beat—without breaking eye contact—

she raises her finger to her lips and goes: “Shh.”

I didn’t even know whether to be offended…or proud.

Because here’s the thing:

That moment wasn’t actually about YouTube.

It was about preference. Power. Perspective.

She wasn’t melting down. She wasn’t being (overly) dramatic.

She was just…being a human.

A human with:

• her own taste

• her own opinion

• her own sense of what she enjoys

And for a split second, it collided directly with mine.

And then… five minutes later…

Because apparently the universe likes a theme—

I’m in the kitchen. Refilling my water. Recovering from being shushed by a five-year-old. Just trying to live my life. And my son casually says:

“Hey mom, did you know there’s a pig in the world that can open cupboards?”

I laughed. Like—chortled.

Because of course that’s the next sentence in my day.

“I did not know that.”

And for a second, I had this tiny, unexpected thought:

What a gift it is to learn something new.Even if that something is… the random existence of a highly skilled pig burglar.

He keeps going.

“They had to put locks on the cupboards because he kept getting in.”

Naturally, I ask: “Where does this pig live?”

And without hesitation, he says:

“I don’t know. I never asked Google.”

And that stopped me.

Because on one hand…

That is a wildly logical answer.

Why would you know more if you didn’t ask the source?

But on the other hand…

How did we get here?

Where:

• Google is the source of truth

• Information only “counts” if it’s been searched and cited

• And knowing something without verifying it feels…incomplete

So now I’m standing there thinking:

In a matter of minutes, my kids showed me two completely different (but equally important) things:

• One reminded me that people have preferences and opinions

• The other reminded me how we decide what’s true

Because here’s what we forget:

Nothing about life is fixed.

Not our tastes.

Not our beliefs.

Not even our understanding of truth.

Every moment—every video, every random pig fact, every tiny interaction—is a repetition.

And repetition builds pathways.

The brain doesn’t ask, “Is this important?”

It asks,“Is this repeated?”

And then it wires accordingly.

Which means…

When she says, “I like this,” a pathway is forming.

When he says, “I didn’t Google it,” another pathway is forming.

When I respond—with control, curiosity, frustration, or connection—

I’m part of the wiring too.

And maybe that’s the real work.

Not controlling everything they consume.

Not correcting every moment.

But staying close enough to:

• ask better questions

• challenge appropriately

• stay curious alongside them

Because someday…

She won’t just say, “I like this.”

She’ll say, “I believe this.”

And he won’t just say, “I didn’t Google it.”

He’ll decide what counts as truth.

And I want to be part of that process.

Even if it starts with:

• trash YouTube

• cheese sticks

• and a cupboard-opening pig

Final Thought

We’re not just raising kids.

We’re shaping patterns.Reinforcing loops. Strengthening connections—one small moment at a time.

Whether we realize it or not.

—

Snack-sized sentiments, full-sized feelings. Follow @MoveMakerInc for more everyday chaos and emotional clarity.