No Good Reason

The longer I parent, the less I try to judge other parents. I mean, it's a common joke among parents that we were all much better parents before we actually had children. My kids were going to snack on organic fruit, not watch television until they were four and never hear yelling.

Whoops.

I do feed them organic fruit, they just don't voluntarily snack on it. And I resolve not to yell every single day. . . which sometimes works. And there are certain days when Ironflower and Lovebug are so busy that they don't have time to watch T.V. When I get tempted to judge other parents, I think about what a pregnant-with-Ironflower-me would say about my current parenting and I shut that criticism down.

Usually.

At the pool last summer. The 7 year old in an appropriate tankini. 

At the big kids' swimming class last week, I spotted  a girl of about 4 wearing a string bikini. 

Similar to this:

From Babikini

Except the back part did not have as much coverage and "Diva" was spelled out in rhinestones across it. 

The little girl kept tugging at the suit as she walked, like it was giving her a wedgie. Which it probably was, because string bikinis aren't made for swimming classes. 

I don't even think they should be made for four year olds. While (obviously) only pedophiles would find a four year old in a tiny string bikini sexy, the entire point of string bikinis is to be sexy. There's a reason that all those fabulously-bodied Olympic swimmers don't wear string bikinis when they are competing or practicing. In fact, anyone who likes to actually swim probably doesn't wear string bikinis. 

String bikinis are for posing. Sexily.

Which is fine. For people who are ready to be sex objects. And not preschoolers at their swimming lessons. 

Yes, I am totally judging the mother who put her child in a string bikini. Especially for swimming lessons. I've been trying to come up with a scenario where there's a good reason for this, but I can't. If someone gave me a string bikini for Ironflower, I would give it back. If Ironflower asked for one, I would tell her no. If I (magically) got my bikini body back and wanted us to having matching bikinis, I would find ones that were appropriate for both of us. 

The only thing I've come up with so far is that maybe the mom is actually a cast member from one of those "reality" Gypsy shows, where dressing provocatively is a requirement. Although since I can't even take photos of my own kids at swimming lessons, I doubt they're letting a reality show film on the pool deck. 

Nope. There's no good reason for a four year old to wear a string bikini. 

Shut Up About Hilary Rosen, Already!

I was trying to write a comment on Angie's post "Sayonara Bitches!" and realized that I was basically writing a blog post. So. . . .

I left teaching after 10 years to stay at home with a then 18 month old Ironflower and a then 3 month old Lovebug. I tutored part time for about 6 months, until we moved to New Jersey. Since then I've had various writing gigs thanks to this blog and my addiction to the internet. Point being, I have been a working mom, a part time working mom, a work at home mom, a stay at home mom and you know what?

I've felt guilty no matter what.

Like most people who are not completely evil, I want to be a good parent. This leads to guilt. No matter what parenting philosophy you follow, some days you are going to screw it up. And then you're going to read some article or hear some news story about how moms who doing whatever you just did (leave your kid at daycare! Not leave your kid at daycare! Use formula! Bribe your kid with TV! Yell!) are more likely to have kids with learning problems/social problems/criminal records.

And that guilt, well, it makes us want to feel better about ourselves.

So we judge. You may have just let your kid watch 6 Baby Einstein videos because it's the only thing that makes her stop crying, but dammit you're better than that mother who feeds her kid McDonalds, RIGHT?

And goddess forbid that someone should seem to denigrate one of our parenting choices. If you just dealt with 2 years of sore nipples, mastitis, sleeping in 3 hour stretches and wearing ugly nursing bras all the time, you don't want to hear how formula is a valid choice. You want to smack that bitch with the comfy boobs and pretty bra. You want to know that your baby is going to Harvard and hers is going to juvenile detention. You want to know that you made the right choice, dammit.

This whole "Mommy Wars" thing is about the guilt and insecurity we all have. And how much the media loves to exploit it. They might as well have said, "Hey Ann Romney and women watching at home, does Hilary Rosen's comment make you feel bad about your choices? Are you feeling insecure? Call in so we can hear you make yourselves feel better by attacking her!"

The thing is, the vast majority of us have nothing to feel guilty about. Just because some study says x, y or z, it doesn't mean that it's true for our kids. As long as we're trying to be good parents, trying to maintain our own identities and letting them know we love them, we're doing okay. So can we please stop the guilt? And the subsequent judgment and fake media wars?

Because I'm pretty sure that the "Mommy Wars" aren't teaching any of us to be better parents.

I'm Not Dead. . .But A Woman at the Gym Might Be

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm hoping someone will invent a way for me to type safely while driving my kids around. I mean, why shouldn't I have a laptop embedded in my minivan's steering wheel? It's not like I'm doing any difficult driving.

Anyway.

So the other day I was at the gym (what I really need is an elliptical trainer with an embedded laptop, then I could be skinny and a consistent blogger!), because that's what I do now. My weight loss has been slow, because well, I have to lose a lot of weight. And because I refuse to diet. So I'm still one of the bigger gals at the gym, but who cares?

No one, except for the woman I had the unfortunate experience of exercising next to the other day. At first, as she kept looking in my direction, I thought she was looking at the TV that was tuned to ESPN. Because I too would rather watch ESPN than Rachel Ray, I glanced at her, planning on smiling in a friendly way. But the woman was not looking at ESPN. She was looking at the numbers on my machine.

Now, of course I've looked at other people's incline and resistance numbers before, or checked their speed on the treadmill. I have nothing against being a nosy bitch. But I try not to let them know I'm looking, and I certainly don't sneer while I'm doing it. Not so this woman. She looked at my numbers, looked at her numbers, looked back and then upped her resistance to match mine. For real.

I went back to focusing on my magazine because sometimes I can be a little self-conscious/self-absorbed/slightly paranoid. But a few minutes later, when the harder part of my interval kicked in, I noticed her doing it again. And she was struggling. But she kept glancing at me and upping her resistance to match mine.

Have I mentioned that she completely ignored the slim woman on the other side of her? Whose resistance was much higher than mine? Apparently she just didn't want the fat chick to be stronger than she was. Or something. Everything I did, she did. She even changed her time on the machine when I switched magazines and she could see my time.

I suddenly saw my 13 year old self, being okay with the acknowledged school genius beating me on a test but flipping out when someone I didn't think was so smart beat me. And instead of saying something to the competitive woman I gave her the same "bless your bitchy, immature heart - I really pity you" smile I would have given to my 13 year old self.

Next time, though? I'm totally tripping her.

I Don't Judge. But If I Did. . .

Far be it for me to criticize other parents. Really, I don't like to judge.

But.

I just don't GET parents who hire a baby planner, aka "baby concierge".

While I'm a fan of parents making informed decisions and reading expert opinions, I think parenting outsourcing has gotten out of control. Not only can you hire someone to toilet train or sleep train your child, you can now have someone teach you how to sign up for your baby registry and choose a childcare provider. Seriously.

Is it really that hard to read a few magazines or websites and pick the best products? Is it too much to ask friends and acquaintances with kids? Is it too selfish to just pick what appeals to you?

What's the point of having a kid if the baby planner chooses the registry and the nanny, the nanny spends 80 hours a week with the kid, the toilet trainer potty trains your kid, the sleep trainer teaches your kid to sleep on its own, the speech therapist teaches your kid to communicate (and I don't mean the kids with speech problems, either) the tutor teaches your kid to read and the personal shopper picks out of all your kid's clothes?

Oh, how I wish I was kidding.

Isn't it sad that so many parents are so terrified of doing something wrong that they don't actually parent their kids at all?

There might also be some laziness involved. Because all that stuff is HARD. (Except the baby registry. That's just fun.) But isn't that the point? I mean, if you want something easy you get a cat.

And speaking of cats, happy birthday to my fantastic mom, cat owner, writer, editor, gardener, super cook, doting Grammy, dancer and family rock. I don't know what we'd do without her.

Can You Force A Child To Become a Cross Dresser?

Dear Christopher's Mother,

Today we met your son and your mother-in-law at an indoor play area. Your son seems like a nice little boy and I know my kids enjoyed playing with him. I just feel that I have to apologize for calling him a little girl. And for the fact that my daughter referred to him as "she" the entire time, even after I told her that Christopher is a boy's name.

Your son didn't seem to mind like most three year old boys would. He barely seemed to notice . . . according to your mother-in-law, he's quite used to it.

I'm not one of those judgmental parents. Unless your kid is mean and you don't care, I will not judge you. Or if your preschooler's favorite movie is Bride of Chucky. Or if you put Pepsi in your toddler's bottle. Or. . .well, you know what I mean. I don't judge parents who are within the realm of normal.

But I think your son's hair has gone beyond the realm of normal. The long, golden waves are quite lovely and the bobby pins do seem to hold it out of his eyes, but doesn't it bother you that everyone assumes he's a girl?

I support the rights of the transgendered. I love cross-dressers and drag queens. But your mother-in-law says you're the one who won't cut it, not Christopher. Which indicates to me that you are not supporting Christopher's natural urges but instead trying to feminize him for perverse reasons of your own.

What the fuck is your problem?

Sincerely,

Jerseygirl89

PS Would you be interested in a playdate at the new Cuts for Kids place?

You Do It Too, Right?

The last several times I've had the (unfortunate) task of describing myself, I've used the term "open-minded" as one of my adjectives.

Which makes me a total liar.

It wasn't intentional. Compared to, say, the Taliban, I'm very open-minded. I don't judge people based on skin color (except for people who have that George Hamilton fake bake) or religion (except for Scientologists) or political affiliation (except for white - or any other race - supremacists) or sexual orientation (except for men who claim to be straight but are always cheating on their wives with men). Sounds pretty open-minded, right?

Except that there's more. I judge people who don't read. I judge people who have four hundred dollar diaper bags.  I judge people who don't vote. I judge people who drive Hummers.  I judge people who  never question. I judge people who wear Uggs. And, apparently, I judge people who are very pretty.

Last week The Daily Show had a gorgeous reporter on. Her name is Lara Logan. And as she walked on the stage, I assumed that she would be boring. I assumed she got her job because she looked good on camera. I assumed my beloved Jon Stewart would have to make her funny.

But Lara Logan is CBS News' chief foreign correspondent. She's spent more time in Iraq than all the politicians put together (except for the ones who are Iraq war vets, of course). She keeps filing her stories and risking her life to tell the truth about the war, even though most of her stories get quashed. She's smart. She's funny. I would love to be her friend. Even though I almost changed the channel when she came out.

I'm not going to call myself open-minded anymore. But I AM going to try to be a little less judgmental.

What are you judgmental about?