Has Social Media Made Us a Less Forgiving Society?
This week, I was listening to Lance Bass' "Dirty Pop" on my way home [Sirius/XM OutQ 109]. I don't remember the celebrity or the topic that started the train of thought, but Lance and his co-hosts opined that society has become less forgiving of celebrities when they screw up, and they believed the rise of social media has a lot to do with that. I completely disagree.
According to the Dirty Pop Crew, thanks to celebrity and media over-saturation, now when we see a Lindsay Lohan or Paula Deen type, once they've messed up, we as a society get tired of hearing from them and want nothing to do with them. While I know I personally feel that way (and social media has little to do with it), that doesn't seem to be the trend of celebrities in general.
Take Chris Brown for example. What the heck does this douchebag have to do in order for people to ask for him to disappear?? He nearly beat his girlfriend within an inch of her life [and, if you read the police report, it sounds like exactly what he was trying to do was kill her]. He barely showed any remorse for it, only instead giving interviews saying he was sorry if he disappointed his fans [that "I'm sorry if you think I should feel sorry for something" fake apology is the worst ever, and no rational person should ever fall for that!!] but then going on to have harsh words for his "haters," because he was a "child of God," so the rest of us could suck it. From that he has had several instances where he goes on Twitter tirades until his publicist or someone makes him delete his hateful tweets. And then, if all of that wasn't bad enough on its own, the guy has an interview with Robin Roberts—fresh out of chemo—where afterwards he was so mad at her (and called her a few choice words) that he punched a mirror and threw a heavy chair out of a window and onto the street below. He never even tried to do a real or "I'm sorry you think I should feel sorry" apology for that either. But did people cut off Chris Brown? Did they ostracize him from the community of celebrities? Was his brand tarnished in the least? Nope. Not by his fans. Heck, shortly after he beat the crap out of Rihanna, some newlyweds became internet sensations for a YouTube video of their entire wedding party dancing down the aisle to "Forever." That song is still used as an anthem for damn-near everything fun and celebratory. Chris Brown's misguided fans continue to support him and all of his temper tantrums, and buy the line of horseshit he constantly tries to sell, painting himself as a victim. In fact, his popularity is at such an all-time high that it is apparently up to Chris Brown and Chris Brown alone to decide when it is time for him to quit... maybe. Chris Brown announced on Twitter this week that after his next album comes out this fall he is quitting music, because he's tired of being famous for a "mistake" he made as a teenager rather than his music. Gee... that's funny... Because from where I'm sitting, the only people who still focus on his "mistake" [seriously, I'm just angry he has the nerve to be dismissive like that] are those of us who didn't give two craps about his music in the first place. Sure, before he revealed himself to be a jerkwad of ginormous proportions, I liked his music just fine. But there is NO performer good enough to make me overlook these kind of issues. I do have some morals, you know. In my household, the TV or radio is changed when he comes on. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone in my continued punishment of not-so-sorry sorry celebrities. But then something wonderful happens, like when Zynga stupidly tried to feature the phrase "Chris Brown" in its Daily Draw. The result was a lot of pictures of Rihanna's bruised and battered face accompanied with statements that people needed to remember what this stain on humanity has really done with his life and realize why he should not be honored. My drawing skills skew more cartoon-oriented than life-like portrait-oriented, so my protest went thus:
Chris Brown isn't the only celebrity who has gotten a pass on bad behavior. Sure, we're sick of Lindsay Lohan now, but how many years of bad behavior did it take before we got there? Ten? I can't even keep track anymore. And, really, it's disingenuous to say that "we're" sick of her. Obviously, someone still likes hearing about Lindsay Lohan, or I wouldn't even know that she left rehab last week.
Paula Deen's restaurant had a line out the door and around the block the week after details of her racism [no, not just 38 years ago, dolts!] emerged and after her four attempts at her bogus "I'm sorry if you felt offended" "apology." Of course, the people waiting for hours and hours to go into her restaurant were probably also just racists and bigots who don't think they're racist and bigots [much like the people who lined up to line the corporate pockets of Chick-Fil-A in honor of its Hate Crime, er, CFA Appreciation Day don't think they're bigots... but they are]. But the fact is, while Paula Deen lost several endorsements and fans that month, she also gained just as many. In fact, despite being universally cut off from all of her former sponsors, many of them have announced recently that they're going to take her back. No, she hasn't done anything new or special to indicate she truly knows what a horrible person she was (is) and wants to change it. In fact, new allegations have since come out about how she asked black women working for her to dress like Aunt Jemima. The fact is, Twitter and Facebook have moved on, so now all of the corporate sponsors who threw up mock outrage (which, I'll admit, looked real at the time) in June, now feel perfectly safe fully supporting someone they allegedly found so distasteful not even two months ago.Yes, Black Twitter made a mockery of her with the awesomely funny #PaulasBestDishes hashtag... but no one else seemed to care because she "had been punished enough" or "it's old already."
Anthony Weiner... Do you remember the days when disgraced politicians would disappear and never come back? Or at least they'd disappear for a long enough time and re-emerge as so awesome of a character that you almost totally forgot what it was that they had done? Apparently, those days are gone. Twitter (or, rather, his inability to use good judgment on Twitter) did take him down. But... he popped back up... Same horndog, a-hole he was before. No changes, and this time no apologies. Heck, he's even doubled-down on his jerkiness.
All of this is to say, while I agree with the Dirty Pop Crew that social media makes it easier to become aware of celebrities' dirty deeds and makes it easier to judge them for it, social media has not in any way created this "gone and dead forever" scenario that the DPC claims exists. Celebrities these days bounce back like one of those inflatable punching bags—you keep pushing, but even the worst of them refuse to stay down. And these days, they don't even bother with real and sincere apologies.
Well, I Guess Sleepovers Are Out Now...
As you may have heard by now, on Monday, two boys, ages 4 and 6, died at a sleepover when they were crushed by a 14-foot, 100-pound python. When the story first began hitting the news, my friends and I immediately got suspicious of what really happened. None of the earlier reported details made any sense. The man whose house the boys had been visiting claimed that the python had escaped from its cage in the exotic pet store (which he owned) underneath the apartment, that the python crawled into the ventilation system, punched a hole in the apartment wall, strangled the children, and then disappeared again without a sound. The owner allegedly found the snake in a corner after he discovered the boys had died. Something is just wrong there.
Somehow we're supposed to believe that this snake broke off two locks [as were reportedly on all of the snake cages in the pet shop]... slithered into the HVAC system... made its way--all 100 pounds of it--through the HVAC system... punched a hole in the wall with its head somehow... made its way down to the boys... wrapped itself around both boys... strangled them... and then moved on? And no one woke up? Pop Culture Dad thought everything was believable except the alleged wall punching (particularly without disturbing anyone). My pals and I weren't so convinced. Even if you can believe all of the details surrounding the escape and reemergence in the apartment above, there's the problem of why would the python attack sleeping children simply to strangle them, but not do anything else? Pythons apparently attack in two circumstances: (1) when they feel provoked and (2) when they need to eat. It's unlikely that sleeping children would have made a snake feel threatened [though Pop Culture Dad did point out that if the wall punching did occur, the snake could have landed and freaked out. That I can believe]; and if the python moved on after strangling the children, it certainly wasn't trying to eat. Things that make you go hmmmm.
My friends and I [ever the doubting lawyers] suspected some sort of foul play afoot. More importantly, though, it raised the issue for us: under what circumstances would you allow your child to sleepover at another child's house? Twin Mom (who was part of this Great Sleepover Debate) found this really interesting articles detailing "7 Reasons to Say No to Sleepovers." Many of the reasons revolved around lack of sleep and the effects of that. Those reasons I (along with the rest of my friends) found pretty weak. Who are these parents having and allowing school-day slumber parties?? There was also a reason related to "Awkward Social Situations," which is apparently what happens when you're okay with one kid sleeping over or your kid going to someone's house, but other kids or other houses are banned, and you don't want to explain to the parents why. See... I don't have that issue. If my kid isn't allowed to go to your house alone, she's not. And if you expect me to step out of my comfort zone to avoid offending you, then that type of parenting actually just justifies my not sending my kid to your house. My children and their safety are the most important things to me--damn your comfort level. I really don't care. Nope, not socially awkward for me at all. There were some valid points, too, which generally boil down to "things that you don't let happen in your own house will happen somewhere else." Those to me are the most valid reasons. In fact, the only valid ones. And that is perhaps why, when my kids get old enough that we're both comfortable with the idea of them having sleepovers, the list of families in that "approved sleepover" rotation is going to be very narrow and tight--like the VIP room at a very exclusive club.
I had plenty of sleepovers as a child and teen. I recall going to my first sleepover party in fourth grade. We saw [I'm dating myself here] Breakin' 2: Electric Bugaloo at the theater and then had an all-girl sleepover where my friend's (we thought at the time) super cool sister who was in (gasp!) high school made us all pancakes the next morning. My cousin (who was my best friend) and I slept over at each other's houses all the time from elementary school through high school. I even had one co-ed sleepover [which I recall both my mom and I finding very odd] in middle school. Twin Mom and I had tons of sleepovers in high school--as she said, we would usually go to her house to eat, because there was actually food, but then my house to hang out, because we could pretty much do whatever we want [which, really, for us geeky girls was just staying up all night talking, singing, and playing on the computer].
The landscape has changed since the 1980s and 1990s, though. I cannot imagine letting my girls sleepover at anyone's house unless I knew the parents really well and knew all of the kids who would be present. I would also have to lack the gut feeling that someone in that house is creepy [always trust your gut, even when it makes you feel guilty]. I used to think that the only pets I would wonder about are dogs and cats, because of how highly allergic Little Diva is to pretty much anything with fur... but now... Well... I think I'm going to need an inventory of every animal in the house or with reasonable (or unreasonable) access to the house; because a few hives and couple of swollen eyelids from exposure to a Cocker Spaniel seems pretty mild in comparison to Death-by-Python.
And what about guns?? I live in Texas, the Concealed Handgun Capital of the World. Even though I grew up around guns, I hate them, they terrify me, and I'm smart enough to know that statistically, we are more likely to be killed by our own gun than we would gain protection from it. So we don't allow guns in my house. Period. Even my parents know that if they are in my home, the gun stays in the car. And Nonna has always been expressly instructed that the Pop Culture Girls are not allowed to be in her car if the gun is there [we don't have that issue with my dad, who drives a two-seater convertible the girls would not be even able to legally ride in for another nine years]. Considering the types of precautions I take with my own parents, why in the world would I just let my children go to a house with some random gun owner, particularly when I don't know what kind of precautions the parents take with securing their guns and, quite frankly, I don't trust most gun owners to actually be as responsible with their guns.
So, yeah... I think I'm going to need a questionnaire before my kids can go to a slumber party. Or, ya know, just have a blanket rule that their social calendar is based on my intimate knowledge and understanding of the household, and anything that doesn't pass mom's smell test and thirty-point inspection is not getting approved.
As for those poor little boys in Canada... the Lawyer Guts were totally right. Reports came out today that this python had not escaped from the pet store in the amazing (and completely full of crap) story that the pet store owner expected everyone to buy. Nope. This snake was already in the apartment... in a glass cage... without a proper lock... and it wasn't the first time it had gotten out. Others who had seen the snake before described it as aggressive and unused to people. The boys had played with a variety of animals that day, meaning they likely had the smell of snake-food on them. The pet store owner was known for his very lax approach to safety with these dangerous creatures. This was a very tragic and 100% avoidable event. It's notentirely the mom's fault for allowing her boys to stay at her friend's house, seeing as it was her friend who acted (and omitted) with the gross negligence and pure stupidity that eventually led to the boys' death. But perhaps mom should have [and I know she's beating herself up enough, so it's not like I have to do it for her] had a talk with her (dumb) friend about putting his pets away safely before she turned over her most precious belongings to him? Maybe she did? And maybe he lied to her like he (apparently) did to the police and the media. I honestly don't know what happened there.
But I do know that my kids will not be sleeping at any house over an exotic pet store or with any exotic/killer animals lurking around. I don't care who the parents are.
How Seriously Should You Take Children's Hobbies?
At the end of June, Little Diva ("LD") had her first ballet recital. It happened to fall on a Friday. I am still in the "probation" period of my new job, which means I have not yet accrued any vacation days, and the dress rehearsal/recital did not fall on my Friday-off schedule, so Nonna had to take LD to the Friday morning dress rehearsal. During lunch, my mom called to give me a status report. I happened to be in a van with co-workers at the time. They ended up highly amused by my end of the conversation, which sounded a bit like this:
When I hung up, my co-workers started laughing and then guessed what had probably happened, but they were all just as livid as me when I filled in the exact details of what happened, which was pretty close to what they had all guessed, but the actual delivery was worse than what they had imagined.
If you haven't figured out from my end generally what happened, my mom went all Toddlers in Tiaras on LD about her performance at the dress rehearsal. And what my mom actually said to my daughter was something like, "[LD], you did okay. You looked cute. But you need to remember tonight that this is the real thing. And you need to make sure you're getting all of your dance moves perfectly, because everyone is watching you, and you can't mess up." My mom also added something to the effect that Pop Culture Dad and I would be watching, and she didn't want to disappoint us, now did she?
Rage.
I got back to my office and texted three friends with whom I'd already had a group text going. One of these friends (hereinafter, "Twin Mom") is a mother (she has two twins a year younger than LD). The other two do not have children, although one is very close to her niece. Twin Mom (who has known both Nonna and me for over 20 years) immediately understood what's wrong. The friend with the niece didn't really opine on my mom's actions, but agreed with me that people would love the four-year olds no matter what, because the recital costume picture I had posted to Facebook was adorable, and who couldn't possibly love that? The third friend thought first friend and I were totally overreacting, because four-year olds should understand the difference between dress rehearsal and the real thing, and what's the point in putting them in dance if they aren't going to do it right? And that's why she's strongly against kids doing dance or there being recitals anyway, because dance should be an art, not a hobby. The conversation went round and round, and I'll spare you the details save to say that the two moms on the chat weren't buying for a minute the fact that children should only be allowed to participate in activities if they're going to do it to the level of craft/art rather than hobby.
I've thought about that conversation a lot, and not only have I not wavered, but I actually feel even more strongly about the United Mom Position now.
Kids need hobbies. They are little bundles of energy, and that needs to get out (preferably not all over your living room). Also, these early years are the perfect time to find out where your kids' interests lie and for what things they have natural affinities (or things that are just never going to work no matter how hard they try). Yes, at some point, you're going to stop letting your kid change up hobbies or interests every season, because how could they ever get good at something if s/he doesn't continue? But that age is not four. Hell, kids are just barely getting coordinated to do things at three and four, which is why you most programs won't even let them enroll in certain sports or dance before that age.
Twin Mom agrees with me. Her husband is a soccer coach. She has expressed how nothing is more frustrating to him than when parents come in and expect him to make their three- or four-year old Pele or David Beckham. I mean, yes, if your kid has a natural ability, that is something a coach should hone. But at three or four (or heck, eight), you should not be beating your kids over the head with perfection. That's just... Ugh... I'm sad now....
Third friend also expressed how much she hated dance recitals for four-year olds, saying that they were only for the parents. At the time, I agreed with her, but qualified my agreement with the fact that I honestly didn't have a problem with that. And after actually going to the recital and thinking about it more, not only do I still feel strongly about my position, but I think it extends to recitals regardless of the child's age. All recitals for all ages are for the parents and their friends. Recitals are not the same thing as competition or professional performances, and it is absolutely ridiculous to expect that they should be. Recitals are there for the parents, other family members, and friends to see what your child has learned all season [and to justify the amount of money you have spent and continue to spend]. They are there to entertain you. They are not there to get your child a scholarship to Juilliard. Sitting there at my daughter's recital, I watched the girls who I know do teach some of the younger classes and who participate in competitive dance [which, by the way, children are not even allowed to enter until they are eight years old]. They were, of course, good. But they weren't perfect that night either. They probably are more on-point (and en pointe) for competition, but they weren't there to compete. They were there to make their family and friends proud. The recital began with father-daughter and mother-daughter group dances. Do you really think the parents were displaying perfection with their four hours total of prep time? C'mon now. This is not what recitals are about. And, quite frankly, I kind of resent the idea of holding something that is supposed to be a fun, family event to a standard of rigidity you would find in competition.
In case anyone was wondering, Little Diva was not perfect that night. In fact, I would venture to say that not a single one of the girls in the seven Three-/Four-Year Old Combo Dance class performances was. No one cared. Throughout every performance, you could hear the audience cooing, laughing, and enjoying every minute.
Take a look at this kid. Would anyone dare be disappointed with anything she could do in this outfit?
I'm so glad it went well. Did you take pictures? ... Okay ... Okay ... That's not a big deal... You said what?... Why?? Why the hell would you say that to a four-year old??
... No. No. That's not okay. Not at all. ... She was already nervous, and now you made it worse. ... Who cares?? ... They're four! They look cute! No matter what they do — even if they do nothing at all everyone's going to clap. Because they're four. ... Okay ... Whatever ... Yeah, I'm going back to the office now. I'll talk to you later.
When I hung up, my co-workers started laughing and then guessed what had probably happened, but they were all just as livid as me when I filled in the exact details of what happened, which was pretty close to what they had all guessed, but the actual delivery was worse than what they had imagined.
If you haven't figured out from my end generally what happened, my mom went all Toddlers in Tiaras on LD about her performance at the dress rehearsal. And what my mom actually said to my daughter was something like, "[LD], you did okay. You looked cute. But you need to remember tonight that this is the real thing. And you need to make sure you're getting all of your dance moves perfectly, because everyone is watching you, and you can't mess up." My mom also added something to the effect that Pop Culture Dad and I would be watching, and she didn't want to disappoint us, now did she?
Rage.
I got back to my office and texted three friends with whom I'd already had a group text going. One of these friends (hereinafter, "Twin Mom") is a mother (she has two twins a year younger than LD). The other two do not have children, although one is very close to her niece. Twin Mom (who has known both Nonna and me for over 20 years) immediately understood what's wrong. The friend with the niece didn't really opine on my mom's actions, but agreed with me that people would love the four-year olds no matter what, because the recital costume picture I had posted to Facebook was adorable, and who couldn't possibly love that? The third friend thought first friend and I were totally overreacting, because four-year olds should understand the difference between dress rehearsal and the real thing, and what's the point in putting them in dance if they aren't going to do it right? And that's why she's strongly against kids doing dance or there being recitals anyway, because dance should be an art, not a hobby. The conversation went round and round, and I'll spare you the details save to say that the two moms on the chat weren't buying for a minute the fact that children should only be allowed to participate in activities if they're going to do it to the level of craft/art rather than hobby.
I've thought about that conversation a lot, and not only have I not wavered, but I actually feel even more strongly about the United Mom Position now.
Kids need hobbies. They are little bundles of energy, and that needs to get out (preferably not all over your living room). Also, these early years are the perfect time to find out where your kids' interests lie and for what things they have natural affinities (or things that are just never going to work no matter how hard they try). Yes, at some point, you're going to stop letting your kid change up hobbies or interests every season, because how could they ever get good at something if s/he doesn't continue? But that age is not four. Hell, kids are just barely getting coordinated to do things at three and four, which is why you most programs won't even let them enroll in certain sports or dance before that age.
Twin Mom agrees with me. Her husband is a soccer coach. She has expressed how nothing is more frustrating to him than when parents come in and expect him to make their three- or four-year old Pele or David Beckham. I mean, yes, if your kid has a natural ability, that is something a coach should hone. But at three or four (or heck, eight), you should not be beating your kids over the head with perfection. That's just... Ugh... I'm sad now....
Third friend also expressed how much she hated dance recitals for four-year olds, saying that they were only for the parents. At the time, I agreed with her, but qualified my agreement with the fact that I honestly didn't have a problem with that. And after actually going to the recital and thinking about it more, not only do I still feel strongly about my position, but I think it extends to recitals regardless of the child's age. All recitals for all ages are for the parents and their friends. Recitals are not the same thing as competition or professional performances, and it is absolutely ridiculous to expect that they should be. Recitals are there for the parents, other family members, and friends to see what your child has learned all season [and to justify the amount of money you have spent and continue to spend]. They are there to entertain you. They are not there to get your child a scholarship to Juilliard. Sitting there at my daughter's recital, I watched the girls who I know do teach some of the younger classes and who participate in competitive dance [which, by the way, children are not even allowed to enter until they are eight years old]. They were, of course, good. But they weren't perfect that night either. They probably are more on-point (and en pointe) for competition, but they weren't there to compete. They were there to make their family and friends proud. The recital began with father-daughter and mother-daughter group dances. Do you really think the parents were displaying perfection with their four hours total of prep time? C'mon now. This is not what recitals are about. And, quite frankly, I kind of resent the idea of holding something that is supposed to be a fun, family event to a standard of rigidity you would find in competition.
In case anyone was wondering, Little Diva was not perfect that night. In fact, I would venture to say that not a single one of the girls in the seven Three-/Four-Year Old Combo Dance class performances was. No one cared. Throughout every performance, you could hear the audience cooing, laughing, and enjoying every minute.
Take a look at this kid. Would anyone dare be disappointed with anything she could do in this outfit?
How Much Can You Get Done in a Day (Alone)?
In April, I left my former life as a Big Law (firm) lawyer for the wonderful life of an in-house (governmental) counsel. In addition to the usual perk of schedule stability that comes with in-house counsel life, my new gig also comes with a perk often unheard of for attorneys, in-house or otherwise—every other Friday off. This magnificent perk is part of an Employee Travel Reduction ("ETR") work plan. The General Counsel of my company did warn me before I started that there's a remote possibility that I would have to work on an ETR day or two a couple of times a year [in his position, he has to work quite a few; but that's rare for the other attorneys], but at least when that rare occurrence happens, I would have the luxury of being able to work from home, in my pajamas, rather than trekking out to the office. In the four months I've been here, I've only had to work one ETR day. Ironically, it was my second week of work (my first ETR day). The Monday after, it was clear how rare working on one's ETR day must be, as I had several visits from internal higher-ups (including our Executive Director—the equivalent of a CEO in the private sector) thanking me, commending me, and apologizing to me for working on my day off... even though it was only a few hours out of my day.
Every ETR day, I have huge plans for my day off. The Pop Culture Girls are still at school on those days, and Pop Culture Dad is at work, so it seems like with nearly 10 hours to myself, I should get a ton of things done, right? Wrong.
I understand that part of my problem is my ADD. I have a number of home projects in the works, and there's no possible way I could finish them all with one day to myself—or even 10 days! Somehow, though, every other Friday, I assume that all of these time-consuming tasks can be completed in a couple of hours. To give you an idea of how far my delusion goes, here's a list of the projects I've been working on over various ETR days:
finish bricking, painting, and organizing the playroom [complete]
finish painting and redecorating the ocean-themed bathroom and install new double towel bar in the Pop Culture Girls' bathroom [approximately half complete; it would help if Pop Culture Dad could remember where he hid the battery to the drills]
garden [was complete, then it was a bust, and now I just don't even want to think about it. This "gardening" task, however, took three full ETR days of its own]
fully organize the shelves in my newly expanded pantry (twice its original size) [50% completion; and I've given up]
various sewing projects that have rotated throughout the weeks: Dora PJs for the girls [complete; but it took so long that by the time I completed the tops, we can't find the pants]; convert the sucky Gerber training pants into thick and waterproof training pants for Super Girl [20 trainers COMPLETE]; a purple top for myself for going out [complete]; a fully lined dress for work [25% completion]; a puffy skirt Little Diva requested [10% complete, if cutting a two-piece pattern and buying material constitutes any level of competition]; a full suit out of the lovely material my BFF bought me for my birthday [the pattern isn't even cut]; a pencil bag Little Diva requested to match the purse I made in sewing class [80% complete... before my cleaning company threw away the last pattern piece and attached fabric. Abandon project?]; make additional pajama tops for Super Girl and her ever-expanding torso [I got as far as buying fabric... which I then used for the trainers, since I didn't even know where I was going to go with these pajama tops].
reorganize the house and wash, fold, hang, and put away 100% of the laundry, including properly separating those items that need to go to Goodwill from those that need to go to consignment (separated by season for the consignment items) from those that need repair [ha! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Do I even need to tell you the status of this one?]
a whole host of other things that escape my memory now, but which occur to me every Thursday and make my "Mommy-Do List" for the next day
As you can tell, "overly ambitious" is probably an understatement for what I have going on here—especially since every week I seem to be under the impression that more than one of these things needs to be on my list to complete in the 10 hours I get to myself that day. Also, with this day off (and me not having yet accrued any vacation time—not that I'll really have any extra time once my vacation accrues), I have to throw in doctors' and dentist appointments for the kids [I have yet to take myself to the doctor, even though I'm probably in desperate need for a visit to the chiropractor if nothing else], hair appointments, and the occasional extremely long lunch with my mother. I also generally don't take my ADD medication on my day off [why "waste" it on chores??], so you can imagine how many times I find my motivation waning the second I sit down for a breather.
I know "day to myself" is a fantasy for most moms, whether they work outside the home, work at home, or stay at home with kids. The frustration of getting things done with little people [or big significant others] underfoot is a common problem of all women. I wonder, though, how realistic our fantasy of "All The Things I Could Get Done Alone" is in 10 hours. I mean, 10 hours certainly sounds like a lot. At work in 10 hours, I could have (and have had) three meetings and drafted a contract. However, with 10 hours at home, I'm lucky if I've gotten through three baskets of laundry. Is my ADD truly compounding my problem [not the project-starting issue; that, I clearly know is a problem], or is it that moms are so used to having to be able to do anything and everything to keep the family running that we don't even realize how few hours there practically are in the day?
How about the rest of you: What is your fantasy of what would want to do with the day to yourself, and what do you think you think you would actually do?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Every ETR day, I have huge plans for my day off. The Pop Culture Girls are still at school on those days, and Pop Culture Dad is at work, so it seems like with nearly 10 hours to myself, I should get a ton of things done, right? Wrong.
I understand that part of my problem is my ADD. I have a number of home projects in the works, and there's no possible way I could finish them all with one day to myself—or even 10 days! Somehow, though, every other Friday, I assume that all of these time-consuming tasks can be completed in a couple of hours. To give you an idea of how far my delusion goes, here's a list of the projects I've been working on over various ETR days:
Sorry, dear Nemo, someday your friends (and dad) will come...
Has anyone seen these pants?
As you can tell, "overly ambitious" is probably an understatement for what I have going on here—especially since every week I seem to be under the impression that more than one of these things needs to be on my list to complete in the 10 hours I get to myself that day. Also, with this day off (and me not having yet accrued any vacation time—not that I'll really have any extra time once my vacation accrues), I have to throw in doctors' and dentist appointments for the kids [I have yet to take myself to the doctor, even though I'm probably in desperate need for a visit to the chiropractor if nothing else], hair appointments, and the occasional extremely long lunch with my mother. I also generally don't take my ADD medication on my day off [why "waste" it on chores??], so you can imagine how many times I find my motivation waning the second I sit down for a breather.
I know "day to myself" is a fantasy for most moms, whether they work outside the home, work at home, or stay at home with kids. The frustration of getting things done with little people [or big significant others] underfoot is a common problem of all women. I wonder, though, how realistic our fantasy of "All The Things I Could Get Done Alone" is in 10 hours. I mean, 10 hours certainly sounds like a lot. At work in 10 hours, I could have (and have had) three meetings and drafted a contract. However, with 10 hours at home, I'm lucky if I've gotten through three baskets of laundry. Is my ADD truly compounding my problem [not the project-starting issue; that, I clearly know is a problem], or is it that moms are so used to having to be able to do anything and everything to keep the family running that we don't even realize how few hours there practically are in the day?
How about the rest of you: What is your fantasy of what would want to do with the day to yourself, and what do you think you think you would actually do?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The Royal Baby Will Be Breastfed. So What?
Despite the fact that Prince George has arrived and we know his gender and name, Royal Baby mania has apparently not subsided in the United States. Up and down Facebook last week, I saw excitement and jubilation over the fact that it has been reported that the Royal Baby will be breastfed. Even though I am a lactivist who breastfed Little Diva for 22 months and is still breastfeeding Super Girl [she is 22 months], I could care less.
BY JOHN STILLWELL/WPA-POOL/GETTY IMAGES
Part of it is that I just have not been overcome with Royal Baby Mania. But the bigger part is that breastfeeding a newborn, especially in a country other than the US, isn't exactly rare. It's like announcing "The Princess [I realize that isn't her official title. Back down] will not abuse Prince George!"
Even in the US, the breastfeeding-at-birth rate is 77%. In the UK, the rate was 81% in 2010 (83% in England, specifically). Basically, the vast majority of babies will be breastfed... initially.
You want to impress me? Tell me, when Prince George is six months old—or better yet, a year old—that Kate is still breastfeeding. I mean, she doesn't have a real job, so it's not like she will be boobytrapped like the rest of us. But Kim Kardashian doesn't have a real job, either, and that didn't stop her from embarking on a 1200-calorie/day diet so that she would return to her pre-baby size not even a month after giving birth. You may recall that she, too, announced she would breastfeed her tragically named child (this despite her previously calling breastfeeding "gross"), and I'm sure she did for the first week—until she found out you can't live on 1200 calories a day and produce enough breast milk. She's already cried to the media about not being able to bond with her baby [shocker!]. Brace yourself for the upcoming reports that her milk dried up, and she has no idea why.
But I digress...
As with nearly every industrialized country, the rates of breastfeeding drop off dramatically after six weeks. In a recent report from UNCF:
• Across the UK, at three months, the number of mothers breastfeeding exclusively was 17% (up from 13% in 2005) and at four months, it was 12% (up from 7% in 2005). However, exclusive breastfeeding at six months remains at around 1%.So while I think it's great that Prince George won't fall into the 17% of British newborns who is denied breast milk from Day One, I'm not the least bit impressed by Kate doing the norm. If she's still going strong in six months, I will celebrate then. But if she Kardashians Out, don't make me say "I told you so."
• Rates of ‘any breastfeeding’ showed a rise. At six weeks, the number of women breastfeeding at all was 48% in 2005 and 55% in 2010, while at six months they were 25% in 2005 and 34% in 2010.
Posts
