This cover is wrong and it’s not because a 3 year old boy is breastfeeding. I have NO problem with that. But already, across the internet, people are reacting to this photo with disgust. It’s not my thing, but again, I have no problem with this boy, his mom, and her boob.
What irritates me is the headline:
“Are you Mom Enough… why attachment parenting drives some women to extremes.”
TIME Magazine editors, please know that all mothers are “Mom Enough”— we just choose different paths and styles to raise our kids. Some moms breastfeed, some do not, and some are not even able to. Some mothers have to work, some CHOOSE to work, while others are able to stay home. We are all different. We all have our own unique challenges. And we all go to “extremes”.
This cover photo, whether intentional or not, is an attempt to make “attachment parents” look like freaks. Sad… very sad. ENOUGH of these “Mommy Wars”.
- +++Conversation last night with my 4 year old son in our front yard+++
- 4YO: Mommy look! (He had pulled up t-shirt and was pointing at his chest/stomach).
- Me: Hmmm... you have lots of red bumps.
- Me: (turns to my neighbor) These aren't chicken pox are they?
- Neighbor: He's vaccinated right?
- Me: Yes.
- Neighbor: Then no, probably just some bites.
- Me: (looking at my kid) you are fine, go play.
- +++Fast forward to a phone call that I received today at work from my kids preschool+++
- Me: Hi, this is Tara.
- Preschool: Hi Tara, this is _____ from _____ school. Your son is with me here in the office.
- Me: What? Is he okay?
- Preschool: I'm not sure. He pulled up his t-shirt in class this morning and said that he has chicken pox.
- Me: (laughing) Really?
- Preschool: Yes. He does have quite a few bumps.
- Me: (laughing harder)
- Preschool: He said that you told him that he had chicken pox.
- Me: No... no. He doesn't have chicken pox. He has fleas.
- Preschool: Oh good. I'll send him back to class.
- Me: This is a T-Rex-- they call him the lizard king.
- 4YO: Mama, listen.. listen to me. there's a new dinosaur that lives there (points to map of North America).
- Me: Really... what's its name?
- 4YO: Fucktasaurus.
- Me: Really?
- 4YO: Yes, he's the Fucktasaurus.
- Me: Wow, that's funny... That pretty much sums up my day.
- 4YO: Huh?
Growing up in the 70s/80s, one of my favorite Saturday morning cartoons was “Fat Albert”. I always looked forward to watching Albert and the Cosby gang, seeing the challenges they would face and the lessons that they would learn.
Over the years, “Fat Albert” has taken some heat on its portrayal of African Americans. But not much has been said about the title of the cartoon “Fat Albert”. Odds are Bill Cosby would not be able to pitch a cartoon with that name now. It’s too politically incorrect. No one likes to be called fat.
Confession time: growing up my older brother use to call me “fatty”. Yes, “fatty”. I wasn’t fat. Perhaps a bit “big boned”, but never fat. Of course the nickname stuck like flies to shit. Our neighborhood gang often called me “fatty”. It sucked…
Not too long ago I asked my brother why he called me “fatty”, his answer: “because it was funny”. Uhm…no, it wasn’t funny. I fucking hated it and him for creating that nickname. It plays with my psyche to this day.
So this takes me to my luscious 2 1/2 year old son and what happened during a recent visit to his pediatrician. My kid is a big, beautiful little boy who has been having trouble sleeping. Turns out, he might have sleep apnea. His pediatrician thinks his tonsils and adenoids are abnormally large. The good news, we are being referred to a specialist.
Then came the not so good news. Toward the end of the visit, she pulled me over to her computer to show me a handy dandy chart.. a chart that tracks my son’s growth since birth. I learned that my kid is off the charts for both height and weight. There it was in a spreadaheet… proof that he is a big, big boy.
After the illustration, she got serious and informed me that it’s now time to “track what he eats”. Those four words hit me like a brick: ”Track what he eats”. Translation: he’s a “fatty” and it’s time for a diet!
I was devastated. I quickly explained to her that I can’t get my 4 year old to eat anything and I can’t stop my 2 year old from overeating. He wants to eat all the time, so there must surely be something wrong with him?
She just looked at me and smiled, “the good news, he’s young and you’re in control of what he eats.”
Fuck me. Another parenting failure.
Via my friend Nick:
Not what you want staring back at you during your kid’s band concert.
- The Scene: A conversation with my 4 year old during the "flight attendants prepare for landing" phase of our flight.
- Me: I need to tighten your seatbelt we are about to land.
- Son: (annoyed & pushed my arm away) Moooom!! No.
- Me: The pilot said it could be bumpy, I need to protect you as we go down.
- Son (screams): WE ARE GOING DOWN? THAT'S AWESOME!!!
- The Take Away: I have to admit this was (kind of) funny, but probably not so much for the dude sitting front of us. Perhaps that's because my kid was kicking his seat half the flight... :(