iBeth

Don't Log This Book

While playing at Grandma's house, Emma unearthed from somewhere a copy of Little Black Sambo (sans "darky" images).  She loved it!  "I want to take this to school to show my teacher!" she said.  Grandma was in the midst of giving her permission when Daddy interrupted.

Daddy: No.  You are not bringing that book to school to show your teacher.

Grandma: Is her teacher . . .

Daddy: Yes.  She is.

I don't think we'll be entering it into the reading log either.  But I do recommend that you read the Wikipedia entry about it; the history of the story, which itself is not overtly racist, is interesting, and you can go from there to free e-books of Little Black Sambo via Project Gutenberg.

No Daddies in Dolldom

This comment, left on my blog a little while ago, deserves a more visible location:

Baby Alive is all the rage this Christmas, so I bought one for each of my little grandsons,ages 5 and 6. The doll only says "Mommy," no "Daddy." She can speck English and Spanish but she can not say "Daddy."
I have written and called Hasbro about this asking them to improve the doll so she can say "Daddy," but I guess they can't.
  What do I tell my grandsons? Hasbro toys doesn't believe in Daddies and "Baby Alive," is from a single family home? (grin)
I am asking everyone I know to email Hasbro toys and ask them to be fair to little boys. All children love to play grown-up, they pretend to be parents. Little boys should be able to play parent, a Daddy, and hear the doll say the word Daddy.
Daddies change diapers, and give bottles and play with their children, why can't little boys be allowed to play pretend Daddy with a doll?
  Please email Hasbro about this.
Thank You
Cherrie McLean

OK, let's set aside the tooth-rotting icky sweetness of many Hasbro toys (not to mention the UGH factor of a doll that says, "uh oh, I made a stinky").  Cherrie is absolutely right.

Where are the daddies in dolldom? 

I can't remember ever hearing a doll say "daddy."  For that matter, boys of all ages are lacking, as anyone who has searched for a baby boy doll will attest.  Even if you grant that most baby dolls are unisex (as they lack external genitalia), it takes a lot of looking to find baby doll outfits that aren't swathed in frills, pink, flowers, etc.  You'd think the nation's toy stores were anticipating the return of King Herod.

Hasbro has an email form on their "customer service" tab.

The Santa Debate

I am amazed and touched that the Santa debate from last year is still going on.  Children really care about whether Santa is real, apparently.  Check out the recent comments to see what I mean.

Motherhood As Labor

What is most sad about this Debra Pickett column is that her sentiments are so common:

For the women of the late '60s-early '70s Lamaze era, grueling labor stories were the key to establishing one's status as a martyr. So even if you stashed your little one in a plastic playpen while having a cigarette and a nice, long gossip with your neighbor, you could still claim the moral high ground of motherhood by invoking the 36-hour-long labor you endured with only deep breathing and a reluctantly enlightened husband to dull the pain. In the age of the epidural and the scheduled C-section, such horror stories are passe.

And

There's a new way to measure your maternal bona fides, one that makes natural childbirth seem like a walk in the park. Because, really, what's one day of sweating and suffering when compared to a whole year's worth of pain and inconvenience?  If you want to be considered a good mother in today's playpen-free culture of hyper-involved parenting, you must enter the world of competitive breast-feeding.

I've experienced both unmedicated labor and multi-year breastfeeding, and I would never use words like "horror" or "pain" to describe them.  Quite honestly, they are two of the best experiences of my life. 

I've given birth with and without painkillers, and were I ever blessed with the choice again, I'd absolutely choose to skip the drugs.  Birth pain is manageable, and opportunity to feel your baby moving to be born is so . . . . rare and precious.  After my unmedicated birth, I felt strong, superpower strong.  And it was delightful to hold my new baby while in full control of all my faculties.  I read somewhere a description of birth as "seeing a magician pulling a baby out of a hat."  For me, both births were magical, but for the epidural birth I felt more like the hat. For the drug-free birth, I was the magician.

Don't get me wrong--epidurals, c-sections, etc., are a godsend for women who need them, and even with an uncomplicated birth, many women choose pain-relieving medication for good reasons.  But that doesn't make the alternative a "horror story." 

Same with breastfeeding--formula is a blessing for babies who need it, and many moms have good reasons for choosing formula.  But breastfeeding as "a year's worth of pain and inconvenience?"  No way.  With breastfeeding, you get an excuse to sit and cuddle your baby no matter what else needs to be done.  With breastfeeding, you get frequent unmistakeable reassurance that no one can replace you.  With breastfeeding, you get to feel extra proud every time your baby gains an ounce.  With breastfeeding, you get a terrific soothing method that doesn't need to be lugged around in a diaper bag and can't be forgotten in your rush out the door.  Sure, it has its awkward moments, . . . but overall--suffering it's not.

Debra Pickett's a great writer and I'm sure she'll be a great mom.  New moms like her would be better off, though, if positive birth stories had as much currency as the negative ones.  (Though rereading the above, I'll be the first to admit that her post on this topic is way more entertaining than mine!)

Emma practices "Code Red"

I was very sad when Emma told me that her class practiced "Code Red" in school today.  A "Code Red is when a bad guy is in the hallway," she told me.  "They make an announcement in the school of Code Red, and then we hide under the tables near the wall where the bad guy can't see us." 

"Mmmmm," I managed, trying to convey a calm response as though that sort of drill were a perfectly  normal part of childhood.  When it is absolutely NOT NORMAL for my child to have to freaking PRACTICE hiding from freaking "BAD GUYS"!  What kind of a world are we giving to our children?  Remember when even "monster spray" was controversial?

I was even sadder when I had to acknowledge that such drills are necessary. (And don't follow that link unless you want to be extremely depressed.)

Magic 8 Ball only for boys?

From Cynopsis Kids! (emphasis mine):

All signs point to "yes" as Mattel unveils its new licensing partnership with BBC International to produce a line of Magic 8 Ball branded shoes for kids.  When the new line debuts this November 2006, the two first products will be Magic 8 Ball shoes for boys and Magic 8 Ball Date Ball shoes for girls, both will come with a matching Magic 8 Ball digital watch.  The shoes will be available in kid sizes 5-3, exclusively at Kohl's department stores.  This year marks the 60th anniversary of the Magic 8 Ball.

Because goodness knows that girls can't have a plain old Magic 8 Ball.  Girls must have a special Magic 8 Ball Date Ball that focuses on their relationship to boys.  I haven't seen any pics of this new product yet, but I'm sure it will be pink, and probably sparkly.

Birthday Celebration Creep

Bad enough when your child's social set throws elaborate birthday bashes, complete with themed decorations, themed party activities, themed food, and themed professional entertainment.  Must these celebrations also take over the schools?  For too many weeks, my daughters subsist on sugary cupcakes, and our home fills up w/gift bag trinkets made by Chinese prison labor.  What's wrong with just singing happy birthday and wishing the child well?

Birthday celebration creep [when each party must outdo the last] infects even the most wonderful, caring parents, as I learned from this conversation at a recent preschool open house:

Mom: What about birthdays?  Can I send cupcakes or candy?

Teacher: No, we have a new birthday policy this year.  Parents can send decorated paper plates, napkins, and hats if they want to celebrate their child's birthday.  We put a candle in whatever we're having for lunch that day and we sing happy birthday.  The kids really like that.

Mom: But what if I bring the cake in myself to share with the class?

Teacher: No, no cake.

Mom: Can I send pizza?

Teacher: No, because some weeks all the kids were eating is pizza.  We had so much pizza it wasn't special anymore.  Really, the kids just like the candle and the song, and you can bring in special plates and napkins and hats if you want, and you're very welcome to come in a share the lunch.

Me: I *love* the new birthday policy!  It used to seem that the parties became more and more elaborate, and sometimes kids would say, "So and so had a birthday, but it wasn't as good as the last birthday because we didn't get as much in our gift bags."  That isn't the kind of thing I was hoping they would learn from the birthday celebrations.

Teacher: Yes, that's one of the reasons for this new policy.  The kids like having a special day, but the celebrations were getting very elaborate and it was a real financial burden for some of our families to keep up.

Mom:  Well then, if we can't send cake or pizza, can we hire a clown?

This mom is a great parent.  I'm just quoting the conversation to show how powerful the birthday celebration mania can become.  Please take due precautions.

Yes, Virginia, You Can Google

Not long ago, I blogged about 5yo Emma's asking me, "Is Santa Real?"  Since then, my hit counter has spiked--mostly from people googling "is santa real."  Judging from the charming comments on my blog, many of those google searchers are children.  Clearly, today's Virginia O'Hanlon wouldn't bother writing the editor of the New York Sun, she'd just hop on the internet, an aspect of children's use of the internet that I'd never considered before.  Go read for a sample of Christmas spirit.

Overheard at the Nutcracker

Emma and I joined Emma's friend and friend's mother at a performance of The Nutcracker.  While standing in the lobby, I overheard this conversation between another pair of moms:

Mom 1: When Rebecca and I were leaving the house today, Josh was actually upset that he couldn't come.

Mom 2:  [incredulous] Really?  But this is such a girly thing.

Mom 1:  I know, that's what I told him: ballet is for girls.

*sigh*  A man wrote the original story; a man wrote the music; a man choreographed this performance, and men danced in it.  But I guess they don't count.

Dangerously Gendered Toys

I've blogged before about the ridiculous gender stereotyping of toys.  Commentators at womens e-news report that the phenomenon is getting worse, not better:

As the 2005 holiday shopping season begins in earnest, what's out there for girls to find under the tree?

Across the spectrum of gifts and toys, most retailers have retreated to a pink-and-blue world, aiming products at the sexes as if they really did come from different planets. After a unisex phase, large toy stores have returned to boy and girl aisles because they are more profitable.

"The gulf between His and Hers sides looms like the parted Red Sea," writes Michael Kimmel, a sociologist at State University of New York, Stony Brook. "Woe to him who strolls inadvertently into Barbie-land from the land of the action figures. It's not simply those cute blue-and-pink blankets anymore. Everything is coded."

That's for sure.  My husband and I had to search long and hard to find a bicycle for Emma that fell somewhere between "glittery pinky purple with tassles" and "clunky military camouflage."  I'm happy with the bicycle we found, but I'm a little concerned that she'll feel out of place among her friends' princess-encrusted vehicles.

This gendered-toy trend is bad for boys as well as girls.  Kids learn through play, and boys need to learn  so-called "girl" skills (nurturing, cooperative toys) as much as girls need to learn so-called "boy" skills (active, constructive toys).  Not only that, but every child deserves the opportunity to discover the activities that he or she finds rewarding, whether or not "most" girls or boys agree.   I just don't understand why we need to put gender straitjackets on kids too little to do anything but play.

(But then, I'm the one who was pushed out of a local mom e-group after some moms debated whether  The Wiggles could damage their sons' masculinity.  One mom said that her toddler had heard so many negative comments from his male relatives that he'd started calling the group, "The-Wiggles-they-are-NOT-gay!" I wondered aloud whether cultural anxiety over sexuality had contributed to a climate in which preschool education was considered low-paid women's work, in contrast to The Wiggles' home country of Australia.  One mom angrily replied that my comment was offensive to many on the list who "didn't support that kind of lifestyle."   I'm still not sure what kind of lifestyle she meant.  Dressing in primary colors?  Driving a big red car?  Hanging out with a dinosaur? Singing songs about fruit salad?)