I thought it was all about big boys, who should have known better, shaking me down for candy. Then again, some things don't make sense until you've lived them with your own child -- and not a moment sooner.
Now that this month's hideous full moon is finally waning, I feel like it's semi-safe to write about the onslaught of terror that occurs in my house every month... and I'm not referring to MY "time of the month."
My Brother's Keeper is not simply an effort to improve the condition for racial and ethnic minority communities, it is an endeavor of considerable national consequence with a capacity to improve all communities, for all of us.
In my vision, there were tea parties and tutus. There were hours spent quietly reading on the couch together. There were braids and pigtails. There was shopping and giggling. There was peace and love and joy and... and... peace. Then, I had boys.
After the Time of Potty, he washed his hands and his clothes and the floor and those around him. And then poopeth he did go. Not on the potty, but behind the potted plant. Because it was safe. And they sighed deeply and whispered the Prayer of the Pull-Up.
I can teach my boys to be safe. Safe with themselves, safe with their bodies, safe with others and their bodies. I will teach my boys that they are not entitled, that they are not owed, that they have the power to wait. To stop. To save.
Instead of trotting out the same old stereotypes about what girls and boys are like, we could talk about what our children do; how they move through the world. We could talk about all the ways they are human, and how great it is just to be a part of it.
Perhaps it is about having the courage to be myself at the time, even if only a little. Maybe learning to play hopscotch would have created enough space for my girl to breathe. Like a well-kept secret where I would have known what she was doing, that she was there, but no one else would know.
Pink is the color of hope, beauty and life, and as a parent you should be honored that your son wants to embrace that, it will only make your son a better man and help make the world a world a much better place to live in.
My hope for men and women everywhere is that we will abandon the quest for dominance over the opposite sex and seek instead to be united as kings and queens who each wield their masculine and feminine gifts to rule their kingdoms together.
Let's talk about rape. No, not the rape of women and girls that seems to consume the media, and has become a staple for just about every drama on television these days. I'm talking about the conversation that nobody is having; the rape and sexual assault of men and boys.
To celebrate his rite of passage into manhood, Seth Anderson wanted to drink the best made Manhattan, with his dear old dad, in Manhattan, where he was born as a native New Yorker exactly two decades and one year ago.