Try as we may, it is impossible to completely shield our children from exposure to stories like these. Kids will see it as they flip through TV channels or, if they are older, as they scroll through their own social media. We simply cannot insulate them from it entirely.
We're no longer on an even playing field. We haven't been for some time now. The ground seems slanted, the court warped,the turf tainted. Whatever sports analogy you conjure, things are far from even. And the "call" is in the eye of the beaten-down beholder.
It takes a willingness to listen to our kids emphatically, watch from afar, feel the pain of their mistakes made, but wait in the wings at a respectful distance and allow (and celebrate) their true selves.
Maybe I can learn to embrace the flat spots in life, the place between the peaks and valleys. It's not a white surrender flag that there isn't more to do... it's just an acknowledgement that it's OK to be where I am right now and to take my time to get where I'm going.
Traditionally, fathers and daughters have struggled to regain the connection they shared when the girl was very young: the time of shoulder rides and tickle attacks. But fathers are learning to be role models for their daughters throughout adolescence and into adulthood.
This series is about taking storytelling beyond storytelling and letting your children connect the dots between stories and science. Part 1 carried some great examples. Here are some more fabulous ones.
she was getting sick. We were so screwed. By the weekend, she was in full-fledged illness with the raspy Kathleen Turner voice and a waste basket full of tissues. An achy, feverish, sadness filled the house. And I knew we were going down in flames. Or were we?
Girls pick up on our every sigh when we try on jeans that are snug, every groan when we don't like how our dress fits. And they hate hearing our disparaging remarks. It makes them feel sad because they love us. Our comments also normalizing the act of trash-talking our bodies.
I doubt parents a hundred years ago had access to 100,000 names at their fingertips. You named kids after your parents, royals or religious heroes. But the sheer amount of currently available information makes any choice almost paralyzing.
Diet Coke. Fed to my pristinely exclusively organic baby. I had two choices: I could freak out and make a complete jerk of myself to someone who clearly had zero ill intentions toward my child, or I could let it go.
I am that parent. Dear professionals: You know me, I am the one who asks questions. The one who will turn a 15 minute scheduled meeting into 45 minutes. The one who does not hesitate to let you know when things are not going well for her child.
Maybe you just came from the hospital with this little being snuggled to your chest, or perhaps you recently finalized with an older child who has never truly known "the forever" of family... either way, you are mommies. Real ones. No one can take that from you.
The governor is ignoring parents -- the state's most significant wealth creators. They produce children, our human capital -- a job for which they receive no salary, pension benefits, profits, or dividends.
The way I see it, the culture of "Mom" hurts men, but possibly hurts women even worse. And it hurts children most of all, who would love to have Daddy nurture them and who may need to have Mommy provide.