"When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened." ~Winston Churchill
A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that the American Pediatric Association has come up with new guidelines, again, for child car seat regulations. Don't get me wrong. I am all about child safety. I could go on about how back in my day we sunbathed on the ledge in the rear window, sat on our dads' laps so we could steer, or watched the road while straddling the hump, and I could assert that I'm still alive, so what's the harm in letting the kids bounce around the backseat every once in a while? But I won't because I know that such commentary would be stupid. Small kids are, as a general rule, safer in carseats than not.
But let's just face it. The issue of child safety has shot right past reasonable and into the realm of the absurd.
My grandmother raised eight children--seven of them boys. She used to say that the only way she could maintain her sanity was to not watch everything they did. I'm not recommending that we all throw caution to the wind and just let our kids go free range, but I think there is something valuable to be taken from Grandma's attitude. The truth is, whether we are watching or not, whether we have taken every precaution known to science or not, bad things could happen, and dwelling on the negative possibilities just isn't healthy for anyone.
The older I get, the more I am starting to believe that our corporations, lawmakers, and medical professionals rely on parents to harbor irrational fears about the safety of their children. Why? To sell more stuff, of course.
You know, stuff. Like carseats. We hear all the experts telling us the whats and hows and whys of carseat rules, such as never borrow another person's carseat, kids need to be in (up to three!) different carseats over the course of their childhoods, kids must be the size of the Incredible Hulk before they are large enough to ride without a carseat, and the latest I've heard is that the "sun breaks down the plastic" and makes the carseats unsafe, so we need to buy new ones every three years. I have two kids who are 18 months apart and both in carseats, so this means that I am apparently supposed to buy like 6 to 12 carseats over the course of their lifetimes, and at at least $100 a piece (because you know, the more you spend, the safer your child will be). That's an awful lot of money. Someone is getting bloody rich off of this.
I'm not really one to blame capitalism for all the world's ills--that's my husband's job (love you, honey!)--but I think some kind of Che Guevara vibe has rubbed off on me because today while I was shopping at Target, I just about got downright angry while walking past the breast pumps. And I'm not even pregnant. These things cost a fortune. Women are expected to have babies and work outside the home and pump breast milk lest they be shirking their maternal responsibilities to a child's health, and apparently they also have to spend an arm and a leg in order to properly fulfill their motherly duties. You're not supposed to borrow a breast pump--God no!--not even one that has been sterilized. In fact, your own breastmilk could make your kid extremely ill unless you buy new tubes and gadgets for them every once in a while.
And the cribs. I know, I'm a jerk for suggesting that maybe we've gone overboard with the cribs. But it seems as if every five years there is another reason that we can't hand our cribs down to family or friends, another reason that used cribs are deadly. I have a crib in my basement that is in perfect condition. I keep it out of some superstition that the minute I part with it, I will need it again. And by the time I am ready to give it up, it will likely have to go straight to the landfill because I won't be able to sell it or even give it away because the sides drop and someone could get killed. I just don't want that on my conscience.
If you let infants sleep on their stomachs, they will die of SIDS, so you need to buy a special sleeping contraption that will keep them from flipping over (my son just kicked his way out of the dang thing). Using plastic bottles could kill them, so toss all your Playtex Drop-Ins and get glass. While you are at it, you have the wrong type of bottle nipples and your kid is going to choke. You need a monitor so that you can hear them from the next room. And since you're already dropping half your paycheck at Babies-R-Us, you might as well also invest in a leash.
Listen. We are allowing our wallets and, more importantly, our mental health to be raped. Not only have parents been frightened into thinking that they need to consume more and "better" stuff than ever before, but they are being told that once they are done with it, they can't share it. So now we have more people who have more anxiety, who are taking more pills to cope with the fear, who are buying more Chinese made plastic junk designed to allegedy save them from said anxiety, who are helping to put more Americans out of work because foreigners are willing to manufacture said junk for pennies an hour, and who are polluting the earth more than ever when they throw everything in the garbage (and pee out the antidepressants into what eventually becomes our drinking water).
I'm not a conspiracy theorist; I swear. I don't think the U.S. planned the 9/11 attack and I don't believe in a "New World Order." But something inside just can't help but wonder who is paying the lawmakers and the doctors to bully us into being the ultimate consumers. There is no price that can be put on the safety of any child. But maybe there's a point at which we need to acknowledge that we are not 100% in control of everything that happens, we don't have to allow ourselves to be controlled by the hype, and 99% of everything that we worry about never happens anyway. Worry is, more often than not, just time wasted that could have been spent enjoying your kids. Not to mention that interacting positively with your kids is free of charge.
Or maybe I'm just overreacting. Excuse me while I go research my next carseat purchase.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
In the Unlikely Event that Santa Should Come Down My Chimney
Dear Santa:
First off, Santa, I will not be leaving you cookies. At least not in the typical sense. I might whip up some vegan truffles or raw brownies if you're lucky, but really, Kringle, you don't need those dense foods. I'll give you the chocolate, but you are not allowed milk. Your treats will be accompanied by a bottle of purified water. I suggest you get a water filter or invest more in Aquafina to help clear up that ruddiness in your complexion.
Now onto my list. I would like to ask for an upswing in the U.S. economy, shelter for the homeless, free medical care for all, peace in the Middle East, universal education, and an end to racism, genderism, sexism and ageism. I would also like to ask for love, happiness, tranquility and understanding for all humans.
But since you can't actually do any of that stuff, and since it's Christmas so it's time to be materialistic and covet expensive gifts that a girl can't afford to buy herself (and who comes from a working/middle class background where nobody else has any money to throw around, either), I'm going leave you a list that you might find more practical.
First, I want some kitchen stuff. A Vitamix would be nice, and an Excalibur food dehydrator. Throw in a juicer while you're at it. Top it off with a personal raw vegan gourmet chef and that should take care of the kitchen. Oh--and the husband wants a new microwave. I really couldn't care less about that, but I should show a little selflessness since it is the holidays and all.
I would also like a cherry red convertible 1965 Ford Mustang. Those are frickin' cool. Make sure the elves have fully restored it, please. Since the Mustang isn't practical for all Cleveland winters, nor for family driving, I'd like an SUV or a minivan as well. I know nothing about any cars except muscle cars, so any SUV or minivan will do, I suppose. The ones that have built in booster seats are a plus. No televisions. I want my kids to look at the cows.
As far as my house goes, please have the elves repaint the entire exterior before you leave, and they'll need to straighten out the front porch steps and do something about the basement brick spalling. And new windows. Make sure they are paneled glass like the originals. Pella is my first choice. The sidewalk in the back yard could use replaced, but its kinda cold for that type of thing in December so maybe you can just leave me a gift certificate to have some hot, well muscled contractors come out here and take care of that in the summer. The inside of the house could use a maid and a new boiler system--oh, and some asbestos removal. Other than that we have things pretty under control.
Since I would hate to make this all about material things, I would like to add to my list full tuition to attend a yoga teacher training program. This way maybe I can learn that the real reason for the holidays isn't to line the Nordstroms' pockets, but to learn to love one another and live in peace, connected with the great soul of the world. And I might get to develop a hot bod, too. If I could ask you to leave a healthy, toned, size 6 female body under the tree I'd consider it, except that I am afraid of where you would obtain it and if it would cause you to get arrested. I'd hate to ruin Christmas for all those kids that you had not yet visited on Christmas Eve.
I'm pretty sure that's it, Santa. I really appreciate everything you did for me back when I was 8 and you were still coming to my house. I don't know why you stopped, but if it's something I said, I apologize. I never meant to hurt you, and I would like to reconcile whatever relationship we have left. I think that you giving me everything I want is a good start, don't you?
With love,
Jennifer
First off, Santa, I will not be leaving you cookies. At least not in the typical sense. I might whip up some vegan truffles or raw brownies if you're lucky, but really, Kringle, you don't need those dense foods. I'll give you the chocolate, but you are not allowed milk. Your treats will be accompanied by a bottle of purified water. I suggest you get a water filter or invest more in Aquafina to help clear up that ruddiness in your complexion.
Now onto my list. I would like to ask for an upswing in the U.S. economy, shelter for the homeless, free medical care for all, peace in the Middle East, universal education, and an end to racism, genderism, sexism and ageism. I would also like to ask for love, happiness, tranquility and understanding for all humans.
But since you can't actually do any of that stuff, and since it's Christmas so it's time to be materialistic and covet expensive gifts that a girl can't afford to buy herself (and who comes from a working/middle class background where nobody else has any money to throw around, either), I'm going leave you a list that you might find more practical.
First, I want some kitchen stuff. A Vitamix would be nice, and an Excalibur food dehydrator. Throw in a juicer while you're at it. Top it off with a personal raw vegan gourmet chef and that should take care of the kitchen. Oh--and the husband wants a new microwave. I really couldn't care less about that, but I should show a little selflessness since it is the holidays and all.
I would also like a cherry red convertible 1965 Ford Mustang. Those are frickin' cool. Make sure the elves have fully restored it, please. Since the Mustang isn't practical for all Cleveland winters, nor for family driving, I'd like an SUV or a minivan as well. I know nothing about any cars except muscle cars, so any SUV or minivan will do, I suppose. The ones that have built in booster seats are a plus. No televisions. I want my kids to look at the cows.
As far as my house goes, please have the elves repaint the entire exterior before you leave, and they'll need to straighten out the front porch steps and do something about the basement brick spalling. And new windows. Make sure they are paneled glass like the originals. Pella is my first choice. The sidewalk in the back yard could use replaced, but its kinda cold for that type of thing in December so maybe you can just leave me a gift certificate to have some hot, well muscled contractors come out here and take care of that in the summer. The inside of the house could use a maid and a new boiler system--oh, and some asbestos removal. Other than that we have things pretty under control.
Since I would hate to make this all about material things, I would like to add to my list full tuition to attend a yoga teacher training program. This way maybe I can learn that the real reason for the holidays isn't to line the Nordstroms' pockets, but to learn to love one another and live in peace, connected with the great soul of the world. And I might get to develop a hot bod, too. If I could ask you to leave a healthy, toned, size 6 female body under the tree I'd consider it, except that I am afraid of where you would obtain it and if it would cause you to get arrested. I'd hate to ruin Christmas for all those kids that you had not yet visited on Christmas Eve.
I'm pretty sure that's it, Santa. I really appreciate everything you did for me back when I was 8 and you were still coming to my house. I don't know why you stopped, but if it's something I said, I apologize. I never meant to hurt you, and I would like to reconcile whatever relationship we have left. I think that you giving me everything I want is a good start, don't you?
With love,
Jennifer
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Curse of the Children's Birthday Party
Let me begin with this disclaimer: I have friends and family who love to host parties, and who are great with little kids, and I do not begrudge them their choice to throw a big birthday bash whenever it suits them. My kids have had a great deal of fun at some of these birthday parties, and I am grateful for that. Far be it from me to criticize a friend for showing generosity to my family.
With that said, I don't do kids' birthday parties at my house, nor do I pay money to have them hosted elsewhere. Not anymore, anyway.
I will begin with the apolitical reasons why I will never again, under any circumstances, host another children's birthday party in my home. First of all, the only reason I started inviting school friends to have parties in my home (note, I will not spend $200+ to rent space for this kind of thing) was because we moved away from our hometown when the kids were small, and I felt bad that there was no family nearby to invite. I didn't even invite that many kids--I think the most I ever invited was ten, the fewest, five. On my son's 6th birthday, my husband went to great lengths to make a treasure map and bury a real "pirate chest" in our yard so my son could dig it up. We filled it with real metal doubloons, rhinestone jewelry, and glass and plastic gems. The neighbor boy, who wants nothing to do with my son except when it comes to birthday parties, took a liking to the treasure and we caught him pocketing some of the coins. A couple weeks later, said neighbor boy came over to play, and when he left, all the jewelry in the treasure chest was gone. I never did get up the nerve to ask his mother if she would look for it. It was too awkward. Then came my daughter's 5th birthday. After it was over, I went up to her bedroom to find nearly everything she owned strewn all over the floor and nail polish spilled into her rug. I nearly had a panic attack over it; my husband had to clean it up for me so I wouldn't have to be hauled off in a straight jacket.
Destruction and theft aside, I just can't handle that many kids in my house. I teach teenagers, and I can tell you with 100% honesty that I would much sooner have 20 teenagers in my home than five kindergarteners. Little kids run, they scream, they make a mess, they cry, they fight, they let their noses run all over everything, and they pee their pants. I spend five hours of my life preparing for the party, two hours suffering through it, and 48 hours recovering from shock. Birthday parties turn me into a raving lunatic. No thank you.
Now onto my liberal hippie commentary.... When I was a kid (I know, I'm getting old when I start using that cliche), my mother invited grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins to come have a simple cake and ice cream party. People would usually bring gifts, but certainly were not made to feel obligated. There was no Chuck-E-Cheese, no Little Gym, no McDonald's Playland, no big barbeque fiesta at the local public pool. We hosted parties in our homes, and that was that.
Now that I have children of my own, it seems things have changed. Now you can't simply offer a cake and some ice cream anymore. Parents are expected to buy party favors, pinatas, and dinner as well. Today's birthday parties dictate that there be games with prizes, and that the kids will be supplied with craft supplies to make sock puppets, or icing to decorate cookies. Giant inflatable moonwalk attractions are rented. Every damn kid in the school is invited, not just close friends. And home parties aren't good enough anymore. The cool kids' parents rent space in public places--at museums, at the zoo, at the local crappy restaraunt--for hundreds of dollars. If a kid is lucky enough to have parents who will throw away that kind of cash, they are guaranteed more guests at their parties. Even the kids who don't like you will show up if your party is being held at an amusement park and all expenses are paid. All it costs is the price of a gift.
And let's talk about the gifts. Why don't we just send our money directly to China, or throw it into a furnace? So you get 30 people to show up to your party--this means at least 30 gifts, usually more, because some parents feel the need to buy multiple gifts for children that they do not know and to whom they have no particular attachment. So now little Sam or Sally gets all this crap that he or she will most likely lose interest in within 20 minutes, or that will break within a week.
We have taken a day that is supposed to be a celebration of life and we have turned it into a cheap, consumerist, gluttonous freak show. We spend boatloads of money to fill children with high fructose corn syrup and Crisco, top it off with a side of Kool-Aid, and then wonder why the kids in this culture have type-2 diabetes and too many extra pounds. Why not just save the money and the bullcrap, take the kid out for a proper dinner at a decent restaurant, and buy the kid a high quality gift that he or she really desires and that can be enjoyed for longer than a week?
So here's what it boils down to, at least for me. I refuse to teach my kids that birthdays are all about stuffing your face with frosting, bribing guests with baggies filled with cheap toys, or seeing how many presents you can get. I want them to see that birthdays are about sharing time with close friends and family to celebrate the fact that you are alive, that you are loved, and that you are worth more than what any amount of money can buy.
With that said, I don't do kids' birthday parties at my house, nor do I pay money to have them hosted elsewhere. Not anymore, anyway.
I will begin with the apolitical reasons why I will never again, under any circumstances, host another children's birthday party in my home. First of all, the only reason I started inviting school friends to have parties in my home (note, I will not spend $200+ to rent space for this kind of thing) was because we moved away from our hometown when the kids were small, and I felt bad that there was no family nearby to invite. I didn't even invite that many kids--I think the most I ever invited was ten, the fewest, five. On my son's 6th birthday, my husband went to great lengths to make a treasure map and bury a real "pirate chest" in our yard so my son could dig it up. We filled it with real metal doubloons, rhinestone jewelry, and glass and plastic gems. The neighbor boy, who wants nothing to do with my son except when it comes to birthday parties, took a liking to the treasure and we caught him pocketing some of the coins. A couple weeks later, said neighbor boy came over to play, and when he left, all the jewelry in the treasure chest was gone. I never did get up the nerve to ask his mother if she would look for it. It was too awkward. Then came my daughter's 5th birthday. After it was over, I went up to her bedroom to find nearly everything she owned strewn all over the floor and nail polish spilled into her rug. I nearly had a panic attack over it; my husband had to clean it up for me so I wouldn't have to be hauled off in a straight jacket.
Destruction and theft aside, I just can't handle that many kids in my house. I teach teenagers, and I can tell you with 100% honesty that I would much sooner have 20 teenagers in my home than five kindergarteners. Little kids run, they scream, they make a mess, they cry, they fight, they let their noses run all over everything, and they pee their pants. I spend five hours of my life preparing for the party, two hours suffering through it, and 48 hours recovering from shock. Birthday parties turn me into a raving lunatic. No thank you.
Now onto my liberal hippie commentary.... When I was a kid (I know, I'm getting old when I start using that cliche), my mother invited grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins to come have a simple cake and ice cream party. People would usually bring gifts, but certainly were not made to feel obligated. There was no Chuck-E-Cheese, no Little Gym, no McDonald's Playland, no big barbeque fiesta at the local public pool. We hosted parties in our homes, and that was that.
Now that I have children of my own, it seems things have changed. Now you can't simply offer a cake and some ice cream anymore. Parents are expected to buy party favors, pinatas, and dinner as well. Today's birthday parties dictate that there be games with prizes, and that the kids will be supplied with craft supplies to make sock puppets, or icing to decorate cookies. Giant inflatable moonwalk attractions are rented. Every damn kid in the school is invited, not just close friends. And home parties aren't good enough anymore. The cool kids' parents rent space in public places--at museums, at the zoo, at the local crappy restaraunt--for hundreds of dollars. If a kid is lucky enough to have parents who will throw away that kind of cash, they are guaranteed more guests at their parties. Even the kids who don't like you will show up if your party is being held at an amusement park and all expenses are paid. All it costs is the price of a gift.
And let's talk about the gifts. Why don't we just send our money directly to China, or throw it into a furnace? So you get 30 people to show up to your party--this means at least 30 gifts, usually more, because some parents feel the need to buy multiple gifts for children that they do not know and to whom they have no particular attachment. So now little Sam or Sally gets all this crap that he or she will most likely lose interest in within 20 minutes, or that will break within a week.
We have taken a day that is supposed to be a celebration of life and we have turned it into a cheap, consumerist, gluttonous freak show. We spend boatloads of money to fill children with high fructose corn syrup and Crisco, top it off with a side of Kool-Aid, and then wonder why the kids in this culture have type-2 diabetes and too many extra pounds. Why not just save the money and the bullcrap, take the kid out for a proper dinner at a decent restaurant, and buy the kid a high quality gift that he or she really desires and that can be enjoyed for longer than a week?
So here's what it boils down to, at least for me. I refuse to teach my kids that birthdays are all about stuffing your face with frosting, bribing guests with baggies filled with cheap toys, or seeing how many presents you can get. I want them to see that birthdays are about sharing time with close friends and family to celebrate the fact that you are alive, that you are loved, and that you are worth more than what any amount of money can buy.
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