A Storm of Controversy Over Baby's Gender (or Lack Thereof)
(Photo courtesy of Steve Russell/Toronto Star)
By now you have all heard the news about little Storm, the Canadian boy or girl whose parents have decided not to reveal his/her gender after the baby was born. The parents explain their decision as an idea in support of "a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm's lifetime (a more progressive place? ...)". While that is certainly a lofty and notable goal (for many of us, anyway), I think they have gone about it in the wrong way.
To me, choosing to hide their baby's gender from the outside world is putting a huge value on that quality, thus essentially making the argument that gender is the most important thing about a person. This is exactly the opposite sentiment of what the parents were trying to promote.
Those of you who actually read this blog regularly (I know for a fact there are at least three of you 
) know that I am Team Noneya -- completely against revealing my fetus's gender to the outside world (and, in the current case, even to myself). I hate the all-blue/all-pink traps people fall into, and the last thing I wanted was a monochromatic baby shower with sometimes impractical and practically identical gifts. However, I have no problem telling people after my child is born that s/he is a boy or a girl. The fact is, prior to birth, there is no personality to which to ascribe my unborn child. There are also no physical traits to dictate which colors or patterns would look best on it. After my child is born, however, it's easy to tell which colors look better with its skin tone, hair color, eyes, etc. And after my child gets older (usually around age one is when the preferences begin to be expressed), I can buy things for my child that s/he actually likes. Not to mention, the gifts are less frequent at that point, and it is a lot easier to reject one impractical or ugly frilly dress or football jersey than it is twenty. It is also easier to just begrudgingly accept that one gift and stick it in the back of a closet until it makes it into the Goodwill pile than it would a dozen. [Yes, people, I don't keep every unsolicited gift you give me just because you like it]
Pop Culture Toddler has clear preferences about things. She has had these preferences since she was only a few months old. Given a choice of eight differently colored but otherwise identical toys, she always went for red, purple, or pink. The only way to get a guaranteed smile out of her at six months old was to give her a feather boa and let her go crazy. Now that she's older, she demands to wear bows and tutus. She talks about being a princess or a ballerina. She loves carrying baby dolls around the house and playing Mommy. She is a dainty little flower who cries at the drop of a hat (and goes into histrionics just as easily -- drama queen). When we let her choose three colors for her new "big girl" room, the colors she picked were yellow, purple, and pink. She is, without a doubt, a girlie girl. In spite of this, however, the girl loves dinosaurs and cars (and Cars).
I was the opposite as a child. Given the choice, I wanted Matchbox cars over Barbie. I would cry any time someone put me in a dress. All I wanted to do was climb trees, run, play basketball or football, and wrestle. I thought He-Man and Transformers were the Second Coming of cartoons. I was most definitely a tomboy. My mother and aunts always tried to curb my preferences, because girls "shouldn't play" the way I wanted to play. I had more Barbie dolls than I could count -- with the pink Ferrari, Dream House and pool to match. I would cut that bitch's hair off and pull off her arms. It was not my thing. And there was nothing my mom's family could do to change that. I never denied that I was a girl; I just didn't want to play with toys or wear clothes that I was told were what girls are "supposed to like." My preferences for playthings had nothing to do with my sex or my sexuality.
My friend has a son who likes nail polish and girls' clothes. He's not quite at "princess boy" level, but he definitely likes some things that would make lesser parents squeamish. My friend lets her son be who he is. Maybe the slight cross-dressing is a stage, and maybe it isn't. But she has decided that her son will be himself -- at least at home. He does not deny he's a boy. Never has, and I doubt he ever will. In fact, some day, he will probably make a very good and sensitive husband for some lucky young lady [not that there would be anything wrong with him being a good husband to a lucky young man].
The thing is, my friend didn't have to deny her son's gender in order to let him be himself, just like my aunts and mother did not need to force specific toys and clothes on me to reinforce the fact that I am a girl [hear that, Pop Culture Nonna???]. We are who we are; it's just a biological fact. But if we start acting like denying biology is a way to gender equality, that's just wrong. By saying that the only way you can allow someone to be him- or herself is to deny a basic biological fact is placing a higher importance on that biological fact than I think is necessary.
Put another way: I am black. I am obviously black, there's no doubt about it [even those who mistake me for Dominican or Puerto Rican would acknowledge that I clearly have a large presence of African genes]. Had my parents somehow wrapped me in a shroud and "hid" my racial identity, it wouldn't change the person I am. However, it would send out a clear message that somehow my parents thought that my racial identity was the most important thing about me. It's not. Sure, there are some bigots out there who treat me differently because of my race (and I'll acknowledge, some because of my gender), but these people should not dictate who I am and what type of life I decide to lead. Ignorant people will always be ignorant; but should we live to cater to them or hide from them? Of course not.
Now, on the subject of ignorance... I will admit that I have seen some pretty ignorant comments relating to the Storm controversy. Most of these ignorant comments were to the tune of "parents should force girls to act a certain way and boys to act a certain way" and "let the child choose his sexual orientation later." I am certain these ignorant commenters were the kinds of people the parents had in mind when they made the decision to hide Storm's gender. However, no matter how many comments I see on the Internet, I refuse to believe that the majority of people with whom these parents associate on a daily basis think this way. I know I certainly don't associate with these people unless forced to, and I'm willing to bet it's a lot easier to meet people of this mindset in Texas than it is Toronto (yes, I'm stereotyping).
Now for someone who actually reads my blog who thinks that way [though I can't imagine, with my opinions on these kind of topics, who would have possibly stuck around this long who feels that way], let me tell you why this thinking is ignorant:
(1) There is no one way to "be" a boy or a girl. By imposing one societal view of gender on your children, you are not necessarily raising them to be better children. In fact, there is a good argument that by suppressing their natural preferences to things [as my mother and aunts tried to do with me], you are actually doing more harm than good. Where would the world be if girls were taught that the only way to be a girl was to wear pink, love to cook, and raise babies? And where would boys be if they were told the only way to be a boy was to be extra-tough, wear blue, and love sports? Not somewhere I'd want to live, for sure.
(2) Lack of identification with/preference for stereotypically assigned gender qualities is not an indication of sexual preference or even gender identity. There are plenty of "red-blooded," heterosexual men who like the color pink [in fact, did you know that not even a century ago pink was the color "assigned" to boy and blue to girls?], just like there are plenty of feminine, heterosexual women who love football and wouldn't be caught dead in a dress.
(3) Sexual orientation is not anything one "chooses." Yes, you can choose whether or not to act on sexual preferences -- history is replete with examples of gay men and women who have lived in a closet to avoid social persecution -- but whether or not someone acts on their natural sexual urges is not an indication of their sexual orientation, any more than your sexual orientation was in limbo when you were a virgin. Regardless of what those idiotic "Ex-Gay" people promote, you cannot change your sexual orientation, any more than I could make myself Asian. And for those of you who for some silly reason still don't get it, ponder this: What exactly would it take to "turn" you gay? Nothing? Then why in the world would you think someone else could be "turned"? And further more, why do you care? Trust me, if your child is gay, there's nothing you said or did that made them gay (other than providing their genetic code). And once people get over their ignorant assumptions about sexuality, then maybe we can get to a place where people can stop preaching hate, bigotry and intolerance against others simply because of the simple biological difference of their sexual orientation. However, since we have not even gotten close to getting that way with race or gender, I won't hold my breath.
In any event, I am actually a little bit in awe of how this became a major news story. Yes, it's pretty odd and different; but really, is it any stranger than many of the other parenting decisions people make on a daily basis? And by focusing so much attention on this and the speculation of whether Storm is really a boy or a girl [personally, I don't know them and even if I did, I don't really care one way or the other], aren't we somehow sending a message (one I think is a wrong one) that gender is grossly important?
Your Child Is Not Special… To Anyone Except You, Your Friends and Family
I know, I know. You’ve read the title, and you’re already ready to rip me a new one. But hear me out.
I know your child is loved. I know your child is special. But what I also know, is that this love and feeling of specialness does not extend beyond your inner circle. The same is true of my child.
I attended a seminar this week about generation differences. The speaker pointed out that Generation Y (ages 13 – 30 generally) is more of the “entitled” generation, because their parents spent their lives telling them that they were special “and they believed it.” Parents have taken away the work experiences – there are no paper routes, no lemonade stands, no one mowing the lawns, these kids were too busy with extra curricular activities to babysit. So these children, now some adults, don’t even learn to grow up until they show up on the job, and they need their bosses to teach them what in the past parents did. The speaker told the Baby Boomers to blame themselves for this; so the next time they’re complaining about the know-nothing “kid” straight out of law school, they need to remember that they created these monsters. I completely agree.
I don’t know what the mark of Generation Z will be, but I have a pretty good idea. As “special” as the Baby Boomers told Generation Y they were, many of us Generation Xers are guilty of being even more over the top. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, but I want to break the mold. Yes, I want my child to understand that she is special—to me, to Pop Culture Dad, to her grandparents, aunts and uncles, and to my friends. But is she special to the rest of the world? No. Should she be special to the rest of the world? Not automatically. Specialness is something that’s earned not given. You don’t earn the title of being “special” simply for doing the things you should do (“Oh! You showed up on time and did your work? How wonderful!!” Uh… no); you are special for being extraordinary. And if you aren’t making the effort or going that extra mile to stand out from the rest of the world, then you need to drop the expectation that the rest of the world will find you as special and wonderful and your family and close friends. And we, as parents, need to stop giving our children these unrealistic expectations and then thrusting these self-entitled brats with me-me-me attitudes on the rest of the world.
I have witnessed far too many kids and adults who walk around with an air of entitlement, because they have been told all their life that they are special and wonderful, and this statement was never qualified. Somehow, these “special” adults have gone throughout life without having the idea challenged – at least, they haven’t recognized that the idea was challenged. These are the people who think that if they don’t get something they want, either it was stolen from them or some sort of unfairness is at play. I don’t dispute that things can be “stolen” or that there is unfairness in the world (a lot of unfairness), but there are many people who think that every time something doesn’t go their way, there must have been foul play. Sorry to break it to you, but the culprit isn’t the world, it’s your ego. Somewhere along the way, someone should have told you (him, her, whoever), that you are not that special – to anyone except your family and your/their friends.
It starts with children. We tell our children from the very beginning that they can do no wrong. Everything they do is perfect and wonderful. There is no problem with this. The problem comes in when we don’t let our children know that while we may hold this opinion, as do Nana and Papa, Auntie Whoever, and Mommy’s best friend, that random person you meet along the way – that person who may at some point hold your academic or professional fate in their hands – does not feel that way. I have heard various stories where someone’s child doesn’t get an award or doesn’t get into their first-choice school, and this person’s immediate assumption – without any hard core proof is “Well, the person who got my child’s spot got it because s/he is a minority/woman/bribed someone.” This parent is part of the problem. Sorry, but the world doesn’t work to conspire against one person. Sometimes – and I know this is a tough pill to swallow – we don’t get things in life, because we just aren’t good enough or special enough.
“But, but, but. My child had a 3.9 and scored a 1580 on the SATs and took piano!”. So did thousands of other children. And, quite honestly, place yourself in the shoes of a college application review board. If you see 15,000 applications from absolutely identical applicants, and you only have 1,000 spots, are any of these children special to you, regardless of how special they are to their parents, grandparents, cousins, etc.? Of course not. But you know who may seem more special than your child? The kid with the 3.6 and 1400 on the SATs, who played a sport and volunteered in her community, who also didn’t have the funds to take the same Princeton Review that 13,000 of the 15,000 identical applicants took. Yes, you may think your child looks better on paper, but you’d likely be wrong. In any event, the specialness that you personally attribute to your offspring is not passed on to a college application review board, a boss, or anyone else in the world. Again, if one wants to be special to others, one must in fact be special.
I know there are some parents who disagree. There are parents who think that I am damaging my child’s psyche by not letting her make every single decision or sharing in the fantasy (nay, fallacy) that she is special to everyone in the world because she is to me. I don’t care. I want my children to be those kids who have learned a work ethic, who have learned how to earn respect rather than just expecting it. I want them to grow up learning over the years how to be responsible adults rather than learning it on the job at age 25. If people don’t agree, then fine. Raise your kids however you want. But for me, I don’t plan on being that parent 25 years from now lamenting over the fact that my child is bouncing from job to job because her “boss doesn’t get her” or “she doesn’t feel fulfilled” after only being there one month.
I know your child is loved. I know your child is special. But what I also know, is that this love and feeling of specialness does not extend beyond your inner circle. The same is true of my child.
I attended a seminar this week about generation differences. The speaker pointed out that Generation Y (ages 13 – 30 generally) is more of the “entitled” generation, because their parents spent their lives telling them that they were special “and they believed it.” Parents have taken away the work experiences – there are no paper routes, no lemonade stands, no one mowing the lawns, these kids were too busy with extra curricular activities to babysit. So these children, now some adults, don’t even learn to grow up until they show up on the job, and they need their bosses to teach them what in the past parents did. The speaker told the Baby Boomers to blame themselves for this; so the next time they’re complaining about the know-nothing “kid” straight out of law school, they need to remember that they created these monsters. I completely agree.
I don’t know what the mark of Generation Z will be, but I have a pretty good idea. As “special” as the Baby Boomers told Generation Y they were, many of us Generation Xers are guilty of being even more over the top. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, but I want to break the mold. Yes, I want my child to understand that she is special—to me, to Pop Culture Dad, to her grandparents, aunts and uncles, and to my friends. But is she special to the rest of the world? No. Should she be special to the rest of the world? Not automatically. Specialness is something that’s earned not given. You don’t earn the title of being “special” simply for doing the things you should do (“Oh! You showed up on time and did your work? How wonderful!!” Uh… no); you are special for being extraordinary. And if you aren’t making the effort or going that extra mile to stand out from the rest of the world, then you need to drop the expectation that the rest of the world will find you as special and wonderful and your family and close friends. And we, as parents, need to stop giving our children these unrealistic expectations and then thrusting these self-entitled brats with me-me-me attitudes on the rest of the world.
I have witnessed far too many kids and adults who walk around with an air of entitlement, because they have been told all their life that they are special and wonderful, and this statement was never qualified. Somehow, these “special” adults have gone throughout life without having the idea challenged – at least, they haven’t recognized that the idea was challenged. These are the people who think that if they don’t get something they want, either it was stolen from them or some sort of unfairness is at play. I don’t dispute that things can be “stolen” or that there is unfairness in the world (a lot of unfairness), but there are many people who think that every time something doesn’t go their way, there must have been foul play. Sorry to break it to you, but the culprit isn’t the world, it’s your ego. Somewhere along the way, someone should have told you (him, her, whoever), that you are not that special – to anyone except your family and your/their friends.
It starts with children. We tell our children from the very beginning that they can do no wrong. Everything they do is perfect and wonderful. There is no problem with this. The problem comes in when we don’t let our children know that while we may hold this opinion, as do Nana and Papa, Auntie Whoever, and Mommy’s best friend, that random person you meet along the way – that person who may at some point hold your academic or professional fate in their hands – does not feel that way. I have heard various stories where someone’s child doesn’t get an award or doesn’t get into their first-choice school, and this person’s immediate assumption – without any hard core proof is “Well, the person who got my child’s spot got it because s/he is a minority/woman/bribed someone.” This parent is part of the problem. Sorry, but the world doesn’t work to conspire against one person. Sometimes – and I know this is a tough pill to swallow – we don’t get things in life, because we just aren’t good enough or special enough.
“But, but, but. My child had a 3.9 and scored a 1580 on the SATs and took piano!”. So did thousands of other children. And, quite honestly, place yourself in the shoes of a college application review board. If you see 15,000 applications from absolutely identical applicants, and you only have 1,000 spots, are any of these children special to you, regardless of how special they are to their parents, grandparents, cousins, etc.? Of course not. But you know who may seem more special than your child? The kid with the 3.6 and 1400 on the SATs, who played a sport and volunteered in her community, who also didn’t have the funds to take the same Princeton Review that 13,000 of the 15,000 identical applicants took. Yes, you may think your child looks better on paper, but you’d likely be wrong. In any event, the specialness that you personally attribute to your offspring is not passed on to a college application review board, a boss, or anyone else in the world. Again, if one wants to be special to others, one must in fact be special.
I know there are some parents who disagree. There are parents who think that I am damaging my child’s psyche by not letting her make every single decision or sharing in the fantasy (nay, fallacy) that she is special to everyone in the world because she is to me. I don’t care. I want my children to be those kids who have learned a work ethic, who have learned how to earn respect rather than just expecting it. I want them to grow up learning over the years how to be responsible adults rather than learning it on the job at age 25. If people don’t agree, then fine. Raise your kids however you want. But for me, I don’t plan on being that parent 25 years from now lamenting over the fact that my child is bouncing from job to job because her “boss doesn’t get her” or “she doesn’t feel fulfilled” after only being there one month.
Today I'm Watching... My Child
Today I was in the cafe at Target getting nachos and an Icee [I'm 21 weeks pregnant. Don't judge!] when a little girl around the age of 5 or 6 got in line behind me. She got a little impatient while the cashier was making my nachos, so she started standing and sort of bouncing on the flimsy chips display case in front of us.
I am always careful with what I say to strangers' kids, because the last thing I want is to give some random nutjob a reason to go off on me. This time, I decided to let it go with a simple "Ooh, sweetie. Don't stand on that. You don't want it to fall under you." She got down, and no one confronted me. Two crises averted.
While I was grabbing napkins, the little girl ran past me and went running through the aisles of Target. That was the first time it occurred to me - Where is her mother?. My internal question was soon answered when the little girl darted into the Starbucks inside the store. However, this revelation did nothing to soothe me.
There are no parts of the cafe visible from the Starbucks and vice versa. In the same amount of time it took me to warn the little girl about standing on the chips display case, she could have been snatched. If I hadn't said anything, there was a possibility this little girl could have fallen and gotten injured. The little girl could have even decided that, instead of buying chips, she wanted to exit the store completely and cross the parking lot (The exit is also not visible from the internal Starbucks). All of these things - bad things - could and have happened, all without the mom knowing until it is too late.
Maybe I'm just paranoid. I have read too many stories about children being abducted from toy aisles while their parents shopped elsewhere in the same store. I've heard too many stories of children being snatched or running away into peril when their parents looked away for just a minute. I have watched too many episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Thirty years ago, one of my cousin's 15-year old best friend was abducted, raped and murdered on her way walking to meet her little sister and me at our pre-K and walk us home [in another dangerous situation, after waiting an hour without someone meeting us, the sister and I - both four at the time - walked home two miles by ourselves]. So, yes, I may be a little over-paranoid about letting my five year old stroll the aisles of a large store by herself. And I'm okay with that.
I'm not saying parents should watch their children with the almost obsessive-compulsive hawkishness that I can exhibit from time to time. But I do think that parents should keep their guards up even when in their own neighborhood. I'm sure the mom thought her child would be fine going to get chips on her own, because she was in a store in our neighborhood, and our neighborhood is safe. And, yes, this little girl was fine, so it was not an unreasonable assumption to make. However, our neighborhood is not a utopia. Many kids are abducted from or severely - even fatally - injured in their own front yards. I think kids should be able to play and have fun. However, I know that for myself, I don't ever want to be in a position where if, goodness forbid, something happens to my child, I am forever plagued with the thought of "If only I had kept an eye on her."
So, for me, I'm going to continue to let my child be a child — but within my eyesight and earshot. How about the rest of you? Am I being paranoid, or has the state of the world the last few years caused you to be overly cautious also?
posted via iPhone
I am always careful with what I say to strangers' kids, because the last thing I want is to give some random nutjob a reason to go off on me. This time, I decided to let it go with a simple "Ooh, sweetie. Don't stand on that. You don't want it to fall under you." She got down, and no one confronted me. Two crises averted.
While I was grabbing napkins, the little girl ran past me and went running through the aisles of Target. That was the first time it occurred to me - Where is her mother?. My internal question was soon answered when the little girl darted into the Starbucks inside the store. However, this revelation did nothing to soothe me.
There are no parts of the cafe visible from the Starbucks and vice versa. In the same amount of time it took me to warn the little girl about standing on the chips display case, she could have been snatched. If I hadn't said anything, there was a possibility this little girl could have fallen and gotten injured. The little girl could have even decided that, instead of buying chips, she wanted to exit the store completely and cross the parking lot (The exit is also not visible from the internal Starbucks). All of these things - bad things - could and have happened, all without the mom knowing until it is too late.
Maybe I'm just paranoid. I have read too many stories about children being abducted from toy aisles while their parents shopped elsewhere in the same store. I've heard too many stories of children being snatched or running away into peril when their parents looked away for just a minute. I have watched too many episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Thirty years ago, one of my cousin's 15-year old best friend was abducted, raped and murdered on her way walking to meet her little sister and me at our pre-K and walk us home [in another dangerous situation, after waiting an hour without someone meeting us, the sister and I - both four at the time - walked home two miles by ourselves]. So, yes, I may be a little over-paranoid about letting my five year old stroll the aisles of a large store by herself. And I'm okay with that.
I'm not saying parents should watch their children with the almost obsessive-compulsive hawkishness that I can exhibit from time to time. But I do think that parents should keep their guards up even when in their own neighborhood. I'm sure the mom thought her child would be fine going to get chips on her own, because she was in a store in our neighborhood, and our neighborhood is safe. And, yes, this little girl was fine, so it was not an unreasonable assumption to make. However, our neighborhood is not a utopia. Many kids are abducted from or severely - even fatally - injured in their own front yards. I think kids should be able to play and have fun. However, I know that for myself, I don't ever want to be in a position where if, goodness forbid, something happens to my child, I am forever plagued with the thought of "If only I had kept an eye on her."
So, for me, I'm going to continue to let my child be a child — but within my eyesight and earshot. How about the rest of you? Am I being paranoid, or has the state of the world the last few years caused you to be overly cautious also?
posted via iPhone
Taking the Pledge Against Cyber Bullying
Back in the late-80s through early-90s, I was a scrawny little, nerdy thing with braces and glasses. I had always been this way, but there was something about middle school and high school that made other children notice my puny geekiness even more. I was teased, called names, and even had a girl or two threaten to fight me for daring to say that someone who verbally harassed me was a "bitch." Sure, I was bullied, though not to the extent that kids today are. And I am also ashamed to admit that I am pretty sure (thought I can't remember), there was probably a kid or two who I gave as good as I was getting [though I doubt I ever threatened to fight anyone -- when you weigh 70 or 80 pounds, it's just not a smart thing to do...]. At some point by the end of high school, no one really seemed to care that I was 90 pounds at 5'7" [with the exception of (1) this overweight girl who used to call me Olive Oyl every day; and (2) my friends who would get visibly upset watching me scarf down enough lunch for two people without putting on a single pound, while it was all they could do to keep their weight in check], a complete drama geek, and vice president of our chapter of the National Honor Society. Nor did anyone care that I didn't have a cool bone in my body. By college and law school, I was actually (gasp!) one of the popular gals. With all those traumatic years of middle school and the beginning of high school far, far behind me, I thought I had long left the days of bullies. Boy was I ever wrong.
I was reintroduced to the world of bullies shortly after becoming pregnant with Pop Culture Toddler. I joined a parenting message board. Although my time on that site was generally wonderful, and I have made some great and hopefully lifelong friends out of the process, I also witnessed behavior that I thought was left behind junior year of high school. I was pregnant with Pop Culture Toddler during an election year. Now, politics and pregnancy hormones generally don't mix as it is; however, some of these ladies took things to the extreme. I witnessed a now-friend of mine (a lovely lady who I have hung out with in person a number of times, who I know to be a loyal and generous friend) called "terrorist," simply because she is Muslim. There were a few girls on one of my expecting boards who prided themselves on being the Bad Mommy club, who would pick fights with other moms just to entertain themselves. When the admins cracked down on the drama on our board, they started picking fights with other expecting months and even a competing website. I also witnessed one crazy mother on my other expecting board who, in addition to bragging about throwing a television set at her husband, constantly harassed other mothers, called one mother the "N" word in her "happy birthday" message, and made comments about vile things (which I will not repeat) that she did while looking at pictures of our children. I have also seen people come to board designated for blended, bi-racial/multi-ethnic, and (unofficial) LGBT families and make either racist, bigoted, separatist or homophobic comments, just to get their jollies. I have seen all of this by people who are allegedly there to have support during their (or their partners') pregnancies and life as parents. Yes, these crazy people (assuming the majority of them weren't true trolls) are raising children. Sad.
This wasn't the end of it. As a Featured Blogger on that same website, I would often get comments from people who apparently had nothing better to do with their time than pick on the bloggers. Although I have always been that mother who maintains that things I do and advocate are what's right for my family and my family alone, I would get several comments either accusing me of thinking I'm "always right" or just outright attacking me for things I did -- very personal parenting choices. Whether it was my decision to practice attachment parenting, following my pediatrician's advice for calcium substitutes for my milk-allergen carrying kid, my husband's and my decision to pierce our infant daughter's ears, or my choice to breast feed in public, there was always some parent (not always women, mind you) who had something snarky and hateful to say.
I saw my other mommy friends attacked, too. One of my friends was attacked for daring to enjoy a vacation with her husband while her in-laws watched her children. Recently, I have watched with horror as one of my dearest friends gets attacked on a constant basis. In some cases, we know or at least suspect who some of these cyberbullies are. In others, it's the same sort of cyberbully who attacked me -- idiots who think that the anonymity provided by the Internet gives them free license to be hateful. I have even recently heard the case of one mother who was basically attacked as an "accomplice" in her child's accidental death, while his pictures were stolen off her blog and co-opted as a poster child for their cause by the same group attacking her. It's all immature, deplorable behavior.
Now there's nothing wrong with expressing an opposing view, but there is something wrong with being hateful and ugly in expressing that view. Not to mention, it gets you nowhere.
This is why I was so glad to hear about the Mommy Blogger Pledge. It's time for bloggers to take control and bring civility back to discourse. Sure, we cannot control the actions of others, but we can take control of how we react to it. I can't stop someone from calling me names or harshly criticizing my actions, but I can choose not to engage in similar behavior and to delete the offending comments before a comment thread gets out of hand. I will not feed the trolls.
If we want to teach our children that bullying is wrong, it's important that we set a good example. If you have a blog, I invite you to take The Pledge, and if you don't, I implore you to consider The Pledge when leaving comments on others' blogs.
When Tragedy Strikes, Who Gets Your Most Precious Cargo? (Modern Family)
On last night's absolutely hilarious episode of 'Modern Family' ("Someone to Watch Over Lily"), Cameron and Mitchell spied on Mitchell's family members in order to determine who would get their daughter, Lily, in the event they were both deceased ("God forbid!"). First, Mitchell and Cam went over the Mitchell's sister's Claire house. After Claire's husband, Phil, set the kitchen on fire, her daughter Haley called her "the worst mom in the world," and her daughter Alex barges in the kitchen wondering why no one heard her screaming while she was locked in the garage for the past 20 minutes, it was pretty clear that the Dunphys were out of the running as Lily's potential guardians. Mitchell was set on his father and young step-mother Gloria, but Cameron had his reservations about Papa Jay. Eventually, the pair settled on Jay and Gloria, leading Gloria to shout with glee that Lily was finally hers and taking Lily upstairs to see her "new room."
In addition to making my husband and I laugh until our sides hurt and we had tears coming out of our eyes, it got us thinking: we have not yet written our wills or issued directives on what would happen to our children in the event something happened to us. Sure, we've discussed it plenty of times, but we've never come to a final conclusion. We have someone in mind who would be the perfect guardian, but we've never finalized that decision with each other, let alone talked to the family to see how they feel about the situation.
Considering I'm a lawyer and have done pro bono work putting together wills and powers of attorney for others, it's really sloppy of me to not have drafted wills for my Pop Culture Dad and myself. Honestly, I started the drafts nearly three years ago, when I was pregnant with Pop Culture Toddler. However, here I am pregnant with Pop Culture Kid #2, and we have yet to put anything final on paper. Shame, shame!
This weekend is a long holiday weekend, and as they say, "There's no time like the present." In between cleaning out the guest room to transform it into a princess paradise for Pop Culture Toddler and otherwise just getting our house in order, Pop Culture Dad and I need to spend the weekend getting our affairs in order. I plan on making sure we carve out some time to do our wills (which, honestly, shouldn't take very long) and then, once we declare with certainty that we do in fact want the guardians we originally discussed, give them a call to see how they feel about the subject. There's really no reason we shouldn't have done this sooner, and there is no good reason to delay it any further.
So how about the rest of you -- are your affairs in order? If not, what's holding you back? Is it a sense of laziness/disorganization, like what happened with us? Or is it more of an issue of really not knowing who you would trust with your children? Or is it something else entirely?
(image courtesy of ABC.com)
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