Don’t Put Up, Shut Up

Don’t Put Up, Shut Up

Yesterday was #WomanCrushWednesday, the one day a week when Instagram users are allowed to share a photo of a woman they want to have sex with. (I don’t actually know the official premise of the stupid theme.) I shared a photo of Mom and Buried, been there, done that! YEAH BOYEEEEEEEEE!

I chose a picture in which she looks really pretty, she’s clearly very happy, and is doing something mom-related because I’m nothing if not consistently ON BRAND. I also chose a picture in which her face is partially obscured, because a little anonymity is good and also it’s hilarious to constantly obscure her face. (Did you see the birthday pic I posted?)

She may not think it’s hilarious, but she knows who she married. She’s used to putting up with me.

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Gender Identification

Gender Identification

Now that the cat’s out of the bag about the impending new addition to the Buried family, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty: gender identification.

When we realized Mom and Buried was pregnant, we started speculating about what it would be. My wife wanted a girl for a variety of reasons, some that were general (a girl to bond with!), some that were personal (she grew up with, and loves having, sisters), some that weren’t big priorities (variety!). I know, a mom wants a little girl? This is not surprising to people.

What may be a surprise is that I wanted a girl too!

Will we get one? You’ll have to come to my house for a slice of color-coded cake to find out!

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Categorically Opposed

Categorically Opposed

Recently, Target announced that they’d be doing away with gender-categorizations in their children’s sections. This made a lot of people happy and a lot of people angry.

I am torn between being baffled by the anger and totally understanding it. Not because I agree with it (most of the angry people seem to think Target has a nefarious agenda, which: CUCKOO!) but because I get where those people are coming from, at least on one level: human beings love labels.

Labels are comforting. Nothing scares us like stuff we don’t understand, and labels help us understand things.

My son is white. He is male. He is an American. He may be straight or gay, he may be religious or not, he may be liberal or conservative. But if I have my way, he’ll be none of those things.

He’ll just be a human being, like everyone else.

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The Secret Sexism of Halloween

The Secret Sexism of Halloween

I try not to preach a lot, especially about parenting.

For one thing, I’m not qualified. For another, no one is. But sometimes something gets under my skin so deeply that I can’t let it go, and as my son’s third Halloween approaches – the first where he actively chose his own costume – I have to speak up.

Halloween has become an incredibly sexist holiday. TOWARDS BOYS.

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Stop Blaming Girls

Stop Blaming Girls

I recently came across a blog post in which a mother of four (three boys, one girl) addresses The Teenage Girl and begs them to stop being skanks. I think we need to stop blaming girls. (Update: It looks like she’s since taken the post down. Shame. But I saved some excerpts below!)

That’s not quite how she says it, but that’s clearly what she means. Actually, what she means is something more like, “Boys can’t control themselves, so you have to stop tempting them.” Which sounds like something a Republican congressman would say.

Apparently, this point of view is reasonable to many people, judging by all the “likes” and “shares” and positive comments her post is getting. People agree with her loving message to today’s young females.

I wish I agreed, since it’s a convenient way to get out of some difficult parenting.

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