Why I'm raising my sons like daughters

Gloria Steinem recently posted her Christmas wish list. The list is fantastic, but one item really spoke to me as the mom of three boys. 

“I’m glad we’ve begun to raise our daughters more like our sons – but it will never work until we raise our sons more like our daughters.”

The societal expectations placed upon little girls are far from perfect. Women are expected to beautiful and nice and never, ever bossy. However, we’ve come a very, very long way from the 1950’s when getting married and raising a family were the only real life goals presented to women.

I was raised to believe I could be whatever I wanted. I was praised for having big dreams in the traditionally male-dominated worlds of law and politics. 

The same is not true of little boys today.

Little boys are taught that certain dreams are off limits. Little boys are taught in a million ways that they can do whatever they want - as long as it’s not for girls. 

Amos loves nail polish but won’t wear it anymore because people (adults and children) have told him it’s for girls. Griffin loved My Little Ponies until he got the message that that show was for girls. I hear well-educated people tell me ALL THE TIME they wouldn’t let their son wear a certain shirt or participate in a certain activity because it was “girly.” 

Girly meaning bad. Girly meaning undesirable. Girly meaning less than.

This attitude is harmful not just to the little boys being subtly told that who they are and what they enjoy is not ok, BUT also to the little girls being subtly told that who they are and what they enjoy isn’t good enough for boys. 

I recently heard Anne-Marie Slaughter of Why Women Can’t Have It All fame on Freakonomics radio and I thought her insight into this issue was spot on.

“So here’s what I realized: I have two sons, and I looked at my sons and I thought, “You know, if I’d had a daughter we’d be raising her 100 percent differently than the way my mother was raised, and even differently than I was raised,” although my father was very progressive and he raised me to have a career. But if I looked at my sons, I thought, “I’m raising my sons pretty much exactly the way my father was raised.” I mean, we’re raising them to have a more active role as fathers. My father never changed a diaper. Certainly my husband changed plenty. And I expect my sons to. But we’re still saying to men, “Your worth in society is a function of your breadwinning. It’s a function of how much money you can make and how high you can rise in your career.” And that is a very limited set of choices. It’s the flip side of saying to women, when my mother was raised you know, “Your worth in society depends on can you get married and can you have children.” And my point is all of us should have access to both. As a woman I absolutely want to be able to compete. I want to have a career. That’s been fabulous. But I sure don’t want to do that at the expense of also being a mother and a wife and a sister and a daughter. And so, what I now say to my sons is, “If you believe in equality and you marry a woman or a man, whatever, and you believe that you’re going to support that woman’s career, then it may require you being the lead parent and your spouse to be the lead breadwinner.” And that’s been the situation in our marriage. And they understand that I couldn’t have a big career unless Andy played that role. So that’s the place where I’m really saying to men, if you believe in equality, it can’t be, “Okay, I believe in equality but I’m going to take every promotion I get, and if you get a promotion, I’m not going to move for you.”

— Anne-Marie Slaughter

When we tell little boys "girly" things are off limits, we're not just limiting the toys they can play with we are limiting the very path to their own self-determination and happiness. 

We have to raise little boys to believe that nurturing and primary caregiving are just as valuable as ambition and primary breadwinning. We have to teach them the only choice that has real value is the choice that will bring them personal fulfillment. 

It's hard. It's hard to undo what we've been taught. It's hard to look at our own choices and wonder whether we would have taken a different path had it been open for us. It's hard because raising children has as much to do with ourselves as it does with our kids.

But we have to try. Let your son paint his nails. Let your daughter cut her hair off. Tell your son he'll be a great father one day. Tell your daughter she'll be a great boss. We have to allow ourselves to be uncomfortable when our children push against societal expectations - even if they'll get teased. 

People tell me often I'm setting my children up to get teased. First of all, I haven't met a person yet who escaped childhood without confronting the cruelty of their peers. I prefer to teach my children to deal with teasing - not avoid it all costs. Second of all, I don't want to teach my children that they should alter their behavior based on the opinions of others. 

In an interview recently, Gloria Steinem said, "I hope that we will one day change society to fit the unique individual, not the unique individual to fit society, but we all are in this place, and we're all trying to find our own solutions, and we need to support each other in those solutions."

That's on my wishlist - for myself, for everyone, and ESPECIALLY for my boys.

I love my boys. I love every little thing that makes them uniquely them.

They can be whatever they want to be ... even girly. 

The EASIEST Winter Craft EVER!

You I've been wanting to make Borax Snowflakes forever. I wouldn't have put it off this long if I'd know HOW STINKING EASY IT IS!

Now, I did already have the Borax and pipe cleaners on hand but even if you don't that's a pretty short shopping list.

You simply use the pipe cleaners to twist up some snowflakes. 

Hang them inside a wide-mouthed jar. I didn't even use string.  I just kept one end of the pipe cleaner long and bent it around the pen I was using to hang it over the top of the jar. 

You boil one cup of water (or however much it takes to submerge your snowflake) and mix in 3 tablespoons of borax per cup. 

Let set overnight and BAM! crystal snowflakes!

You could use colored pipe cleaners. You could use food coloring in the water. The possibilities are endless, but the craft itself is SIMPLE!

So, how does it work? From Steve Spangler Science:

"You put a bunch of pipe cleaners that had been twisted into a snowflake shape into a solution of borax and water. How in the world did it turn into this beautiful crystal snowflake?

When you mixed the borax in with the water, you created a suspension. A suspension is a mixture that contains solid particles large enough to settle out. By mixing the borax into hot water, instead of room temperature or cold water, the borax stays suspended longer within the water.

As the borax begins to settle out, or sediment, it begins to crystallize. You’ll see this crystallization on both the bottom of the jar and, you got it, on your snowflake. The borax continues to sediment on top of the snowflake and on top of other borax crystals until you pull it out of the water the next morning."

Enjoy!

Are you pregnant? This post is for you.

I get asked a lot of questions about parenting and birth. 5 pregnancies, 3 kids, 2 home births, 1 hospital birth, 1 miscarriage, and 1 pregnancy loss doesn't make me a doctor, but it does leave me with a special kind of expertise.

The kind of expertise that comes from having been there yourself!

So, if you're looking for answers or stories or someone to say, "Yep, that's normal!" Look no further! I've got over 22,000 hours of pregnancy experience. (Seriously, I did the math.)

To get you started, I've rounded up all my posts on my #1 favorite topic.

Pregnancy:

• Top 5 Pregnancy Must Haves
• My absolute favorite pregnancy book
• How to speak to a pregnant woman
• Second (or Third) Time Mommy Anxiety
• When are you done having kids?

Birth:

• I give birth at home.
• Griffin's Birth Story
• Amos's Birth Story
• Felix's Birth Story
• The Cost of a Home Birth
• Ashley Martin and "Picture Perfect Births"
• My Postpartum Paradise (or why you should always accept help after giving birth)

Struggling with gender disappointment?

• I am an urban legend.
• What having 3 boys means... and what it doesn't

Experiencing pregnancy after loss?

• Due Date
• I have an announcement.
• How I'm coping
• Litany of Remembrance
• Grief and the choices we make
• April 10-15, 2014

If you're overwhelmed or have already read yourself cross-eyed and just want to talk to an actual human being who's been there, then I'm offering up a new service. 

I'm all your's for a one-hour phone call or online chat. Ask me the questions you're too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends or mom or a parenting chat board! I've spent 1000 of hours researching the problems. I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'm going to help you find the solution!

Do you want to know more about my experience with home birth? (No, I didn't poop.) Do you want to know what baby products really belong on your registry? Do you want to know what I did to prepare for breastfeeding?

I'm not a doctor and (obviously) I won't be offering medical advice, but I do consider myself particularly good at practical help and emotional support.

And if I can't help you, I'll find someone or some resource that can!

For $100 investment (you cant barely get a stroller for that much!), I'm all your's. 

So, give me a call!

My Parenting Philosophy - courtesy of Demi Moore

I wrote this post four years and one baby ago. While many of my thoughts on parenting have shifted over the years, my overall approach hasn't changed.

“I’m not trying to do for them what wasn’t done for me, I’m trying to do for them what they need as individuals.”

— Demi Moore

That's right. My parenting philosophy doesn't come courtesy of a child development expert or parenting guru. While I have gotten amazing advice and tips from Supernanny and Dr. Sears, the one person who has best captured how I feel about being a parent is the former Mrs. Ashton Kutcher.

(Although...fun fact! Demi Moore gave birth to her first child in Paducah, KY! So, in a way, I suppose this sort of makes sense.)

Being a parent is one of the most challenging journeys any of us undertake. The longer I'm on this journey the more I realize that the biggest roadblock most of the time is me. My insecurities - not my children's behavior - cause my worst days as a mother.

I take this job so seriously. Griffin and Amos did not ask to be born. My issues are not their issues. Just because they can't convey their emotions as well as I can doesn't mean they aren't just as capable of having them. I feel like sometimes children are treated as somehow less than. Sure, they can't read or write or wipe their own butts, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve the same care and respect we all do as human beings.

Before Griffin was born, I went to counseling. Due to trauma I experienced in high school, I often had intrusive thoughts about those I love dying in tragic ways. As soon as I got pregnant, I realized that it wasn't this baby's fault that I experienced this trauma and I needed to deal with my issues pronto instead of exercising my demons on him.

Of course, the truth is even if I hadn't gotten therapy, Griffin would have been no help in healing those old wounds. Babies make shit therapists. How many times have I watched one sad addict after another on Intervention recount how they got sober for their new baby, only to relapse months or years later?

Lucky for me, my mom had a similar philosophy.  Maybe it was because her mother was so great or maybe it's because she very wisely dealt with her major issues before having me, but either way she gave me the freedom and guidance to become who I needed to be, not who she needed me to be. I say I'm lucky because I think the hardest behavior to unlearn for your children's sake is any flawed behavior of your own parents. Forget crack - try to stop nagging your children if that's all you saw growing up.

However, in some ways, I feel like the most important part is having a philosophy at all. There is a lot of instinct involved in being a mom but I think consciousness plays just as important a role. Often people speak of choosing to stay married and making a decision every day to put their marriages first. But the truth is being a good parent involves the same daily decision. The decision to be patient, be present, be kind. The decision to ignore all the voices, whether they come from television, parenting magazines, or inside my own head, telling me what kind of mother I should be and listen only to Griffin and Amos - the only two that really matter.

I hate Career Day

Photo Credit: ginamccaleb via Compfight cc

On Friday, Griffin’s school will be celebrating Halloween. Instead of costumes, the children were asked to come dressed in the “career apparel” of their choice. They have to make a small presentation for a social studies credit on the profession of their choice and how that person contributes to the committee.

Listen, I get it. I fully endorse structured costume experiences. You don’t want a costume free for all. No one wants kindergarteners going home with nightmares because they passed a fifth grader dressed up as Freddy Krueger.  

I fully endorse the channeling of Halloween energy into an educational experience.

But I hate career day and I hate the question, “What do YOU want to be when you grow up?”

I hated it the first time Griffin got asked, “What do YOU want to be when you grow up?” when he was barely old enough to understand the question. I still hate it when he gets asked today.

I hate that we push middle schoolers to pick a college and high school students to pick a major and college students to map out their entire career.

I don’t know if I’ve EVER been able to answer the question – What do you want to be when you grow up? I’m still not sure how to answer. In elementary school, I liked to sing. I also loved to write. As a young girl immersed in pop culture, my only role models were singers and actresses. I didn’t know any professional writers and I didn’t see any on television. (A post for another day.)

As I grew up, I realized loving movies wasn’t the same as wanting to be in them. I also realized I liked to sing but I didn’t LOVE to sing. By high school, I had developed a healthy interest in politics so I decided to pursue a degree in political science and then take the expected next step of law school.

I still love politics. I still love writing. Along the way, I developed a love of social media and graphic design and parenting and self-growth.

And I’ve had jobs that encompass all or some of these interests, but never felt like I had a CAREER because I was taught grown-ups with careers pursue ONE JOB from college to retirement.

Slowly, I’m accepting that that is not me. That it will never be me. And that is ok.

In fact, I’ve recently learned there is a name for people like me.

Multipotentialite.

According to Emilie Wapnick and her fantastic Ted Talk, a multipotentialite is “a person who has many different interests and creative pursuits in life.”

We don’t have “one true calling” or one career. We thrive on learning and exploring and pursuing many different interests, passions, and careers.

And guess what? Multipotentialites are essential in our new economy and thriving in the technological age. The New York Times recently published a piece entitled, “Why What You Learned in Preschool Is Crucial at Work.” The author noted that the diverse interests and skills developed in preschool are a great example of what adults need to thrive in an ever-changing workforce.

“Preschool classrooms, Mr. Deming said, look a lot like the modern work world. Children move from art projects to science experiments to the playground in small groups, and their most important skills are sharing and negotiating with others.”

I would argue that all preschoolers are multipotentialites. I know mine is. Amos loves art and karate and costumes and board games. Griffin is the same way.

It’s only as they’ve grown older that I’ve noticed the emphasis on eliminating interests to pursue ONE JOB.

It makes both me and my children anxious.

I had literally shown Griffin the Emilie Wapnick’s Ted Talk the week before I had to break the news about career day.

His face crumbled. “I don’t want to PICK ONE!”

He has never latched onto one career or job. He never wanted to be a fireman or doctor. Since he was old enough to answer, he’s resisted the traditional answers to the constant questioning about what he wants to be when he’s grow up.

If he finds a job he likes, he just adds it to the list. For the past two years, the list has remained consistent.

He wants to be a scientist, an animator, and a LEGO Master Builder. They all sound awesome to me and I won’t be encouraging him to pick one job or one major or one career anytime soon.

So, THAT is what he will be dressing up as on Friday. We’ve got goggles and pencils and a LEGO Master Builder coat all ready and he’ll be wearing all three. 

After all, our world is changing and it has room for my little multipotentialite… even on Career Day.

P.S. Why I also have a beef with talent shows.

Stop asking my kid what he wants to be when he grows up.

Posted by Sarah Stewart Holland on Wednesday, October 28, 2015

I should never have been allowed to see Dirty Dancing.

I grew up watching A LOT of television and going to A LOT of movies. I was an only child so I had time to fill and no siblings to help fill it. Some of my most vivid childhood memories revolve around media and popular culture.

For a week in first grade, I had to stand in the corner for 30 minutes every day because I stole the gold stars for my behavior chart from the teacher's desk. (I had trouble staying quiet in class… shocking I know.) I remember thinking if I could just memorize The Cosby Show I could play it back in my mind to fill the time.

I remember wanting to bring Patrick Swayze to show and tell so we could dance together for my classmates. I remember being pulled away from a particularly enthralling episode of Mama’s Family to go to dance class and telling my mother I wanted to quit the next day. I remember sneaking around the corner to watch late night episodes of Designing Women and Murphy Brown.

My parents and I would go to double – sometimes even triple – features at the local movie theater and my mother and I would rent six VHS tapes from our local Phar-Mor for all weekend movie marathons.

It’s a passion that continued into adulthood. Most of you have probably been cornered by me at a party or in a Facebook thread as I argue that you really HAVE to watch Mad Men or The Wire or GIRLS or Friday Night Lights or whatever other movie or television show with which I’m currently obsessed.

Considering my long love affair with pop culture ,it might come as a bit of a surprise that Griffin has only been to the movies a handful of times and Amos has never been at all. They watch television but only children’s programming.

If I have the slightest concern that programming is too mature for them, the answer is no.

It’s not because I’m trying to protect them from mature subjects. As I hope I’ve made clear by now, I don’t believe it is my job as a parent to protect my children from everything bad in life, including tough subject matters.

However, I heard something once that changed how I felt about age-appropriate media.

It was an interview with Stefan Shephard of Zooglobble, a blog dedicated to kids music. He was on NPR talking about why he doesn’t just let his kids listen to pop music.

“I think one of the issues is what is the lyrical matter? What is the context of the song? The Beatles songs are great in that they’re simple, but a lot of them revolve around romantic love. You know, I wouldn’t want my daughter to hear nothing but songs about romantic love all day long. They’re fun to dance to, and I have no problem playing the Beatles occasionally, but I also thing that there are other songs that are more age-appropriate lyrically or musically sometimes.”

— Stefan Shephard

He went on to say that age-appropriate material builds real appreciation. It made so much sense to me. You build an appreciation for music or movies or television because it speaks to a world – in a language – that YOU understand.

After years of sticking to my pop culture guns with Griffin, I’ve realized the benefit to restricting mature programming might go beyond merely building appreciation for the art form.

After all, I consumed pop culture FAR outside the realm of age-appropriateness. I’ve had two different conversations in two days with women my age about the day we realized that Dirty Dancing’s ENTIRE plot revolves around a botched abortion. Or what about Pretty Woman? My mom got a lot of things right when it came to sex education, but I’m not sure letting me watch prostitution meet cute (even if she covered my eyes during the sex scenes) was one of them.

Looking back on my own experiences with pop culture and watching the way Griffin and Amos interact media, I’ve realized that age-appropriate media does more than build appreciation, it allows creative access.

Griffin is obsessed with the world of Harry Potter in a very different way then I was obsessed with Dirty Dancing or Gone with the Wind. Because he can comprehend the subject matter and many of the character’s central conflicts, he is driven to create his own versions of these worlds in a way I never was.

I knew I wanted to be like Baby and dance with Johnny Castle, but I didn’t really know WHY. I knew I wanted to be the subject of Rhett Butler’s desire and dress like Scarlett O’Hara, but I didn’t really comprehend what that meant.

I knew Penny was in trouble, but I didn’t realize it was because of an unwanted pregnancy.

So, I couldn’t really place myself in that world in the way Griffin fully inhabits Hogwarts. The conflicts contained within J.K. Rowling's universe are real and the emotion intense but the world of school and friends and teachers and parents is something a child can understand. So, Griffin writes new endings to the story and makes movies where he lives at Hogwarts and fights dark wizards. If you ask him, he promises there will be an 8th Harry Potter book because he’s already started writing it.

Maybe he will and maybe he won’t.

What I hope is - by guarding the gates to these little minds - I don't just raise consumers, but I raise creators.

P.S. Is it safe to play outside? 

Why I told people my baby was difficult and why I stopped

Boy, did I have this coming. Baby Felix plays super-sweet for everyone then screams in my face when no one is around. Still, I don't call him difficult. I learned that lesson with Amos, as I shared in this post originally published on Salt + Nectar a few months after Amos was born. 

At first, you just want sympathy. Your baby is being difficult and you just want to talk about how hard of a time you are having. It starts innocently enough. Then, you realize you're sharing more stories about the stress your baby brings, instead of the joy.

Sometimes I wonder if Amos ever had a chance. Griffin was such a good baby that I convinced myself there was no way I could get that lucky twice. Nicholas tried to remind me that Griffin wasn't always a walk in the park but, for some reason, I only have rosy memories of him cooing and never crying.

So, when Amos and I got off to a rough start, I just knew all my worst fears had been confirmed. He was going to be my difficult child. He seemed to squirm more than Griffin. He wouldn't really let you hold him. He spit up all the time and screamed his head off in the car (still does that, actually). And I told anyone who would listen about our trials and tribulations.

But then I noticed he started to get a bit of a reputation.

All of a sudden other people started seeing him as difficult and that stopped me dead in my tracks. I wanted people to listen to me, but it never occurred to me that it would affect how they saw my precious boy.

It broke my heart that people didn't see this wonderful creature, especially as his little personality just started developing. And it made me miserable that I might have been the cause of their preconceived notions. After all, nobody wants assumptions made about their child, especially negative ones.

I wanted everyone to think Amos was the most amazing baby to ever walk the planet Earth because, despite my bitching, that's how I feel.

But the truth is I can't blame others for something I was doing myself. I had decided that my second child was going to be difficult so difficulty was all I saw.

Well, no longer. Amos deserves to write his own story, not have me write it for him. He might scream his head off in his car seat, but he also sleeps through the night. At the slightest smile, he gets the biggest sweetest baby grin you've ever seen in your life.

And he laughs! Oh, does he laugh.

I won't say I'll never complain again. I'll have difficult days. We all do.

But no more difficult children. I don't have any of those.

Dealing with others helicoptering your kids

This little guy - who struggled with the second level of the playground - struggled with being "the ONLY first grader" who couldn't do the monkey bars. Again, I stood back and let him learn on his own and I was reminded of this post that is as true now as it was then. 

If someone were to ask me the personality trait I most want to teach Griffin, it would be independence.  My ultimate goal is to raise a confident, capable adult who does not need me to do his laundry or fight his fights.

As an infant, I would sit him down inside a play yard to play on his own. As soon as he could crawl, I baby-proofed his room and would allow him to play by himself in there (much to my mother's chagrin). I never saw it as my job to entertain him or show him how every single toy worked.

Once he was old enough to go to the park, my outlook didn't really change. I don't hover over him every second. I sit back and let him explore on his own. If he steps too close to the edge, I of course intervene. However, the truth is the one time he actually fell off the playground I was a mere foot away and just didn't have time to catch him. (He was fine.) I also don't pick him up every time he wants on a certain toy. Rather, I let him figure out on his own how to get up on the dinosaur/car/motocycle.

Recently, he's been trying very, very hard to get to the second layer of our playground accessible only by a small ladder. He whines and cries for me to pick him up and put him on the second level, but I have refused.

However, I have learned that no matter how much I value independence there are always other parents hovering and ready to step in where I would not. As the weather has warmed and we've spent more time at our local parks, I've had to swallow my frustration as another parent picks up Griffin and puts him on the dinosaur or lifts him to the second level of the playground.

I'm sure some are being kind to the very pregnant woman who they assume doesn't have the energy to chase around her two-year-old. Yet, when the playground is crowded with lots of mommies and kids, I'm pretty sure there is no way to tell he belongs to me in the first place.

It's not that I don't appreciate the community spirit in which everyone looks out for everyone else's kids, I do. I just wish some parents would realize that I'm not too distracted or too tired to be next to Griffin every second. I'm making a conscious decision to let him learn on his own.

And he does.

Just last week he made it to the second level all on his own. After all, first the playground ladder, then how to sort warms and colds!

This post was originally published on Salt + Nectar.