I was in born in San Francisco five years after Free to Be You and Me was released, but even in an era of everything goes, there were still the age-old stereotypes of girls favoring pink and boys liking blue. When it comes to gender, I'm trying to raise my kids with a sense that anything goes. If my son runs down the hall in my high heels and a few purses slung on his arms, so be it. Or if my daughter brags that she is faster than a bunch of boys, I root her on. I made a conscious decision when I became a mom to proclaim, "You must be so proud of yourself!" as often as I say, "I'm so proud of you." And to state, "You will make someone happy someday," rather than assuming they will be with partners of the opposite sex. To see what happened, read more.

So the other day, I was awed when my lil guy wheeled in a stroller, shushing me because his baby was asleep, and my daughter followed carrying an identical doll. I asked if they were their kids. "No. He's a single dad and has twins so I'm his handy helper," my daughter said, before explaining that a handy helper is similar to a nanny, but dresses fancy. I asked her where the babies' mother was and she replied, "They are adopted." It's amazing to see how things change in what seems like a short amount of time.