Smrt Lernins

I’ll be the first to say that if you’re getting most of your parenting advice/information from Parenting magazine, you probably need to trot on down to the library for a while and find some actual books on topics of child development, breastfeeding, and maintaining a healthy marriage. Parenting is not interested in you knowing about those things. I think they hit a new low with their article 20 things moms should never feel guilty about, however.

First, they lure you in with #1-4, which all seem pretty reasonable. Then suddenly you’re being given horrible breastfeeding advice (the kind of advice that will tank your supply and/or screw with your baby’s ability to nurse correctly; if you want to formula feed, do it, but if you want to breastfeeding, don’t screw it up by supplementing and giving early bottles) and being encouraged to lie to your friends to make yourself look good, lie to your husband to spend money behind his back, take joy in the [perceived] inferiority of others’ children, and make yourself sexually appealing for random men (but not wanting to have sex with your partner, to whom you’re also lying about money, is totally ok). Oh, and leave your kid to sit in a diaper full of poop, because there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

Parenting magazine doesn’t want you to feel guilty, but I do (well, sorta — see below). I think a healthy dose of guilt is far superior to an unhealthy dose of lies, damn lies, and leaving your kid sitting in poop. If you’re wondering why this is a Secular Thursday post, it’s because I’d like to point out that guilt isn’t solely the purview of religion, just like morality and ethics are not solely the purview of religion. Being non-religious (or even atheist) doesn’t mean you exist without moral guideposts or aren’t still eaten up with the things you do wrong (or “wrong”). Guilt IS what helps guide our moral compass. Feel guilty, but feel guilty about stuff that will actually help you, not stuff that will hinder you.

A list of 20 is kind of overkill, though, so we’ll just go with 6, because this is a blog and nobody wants to have to turn the page. With that in mind, I present to you:

1. Undermining yourself before you ever give yourself a chance to succeed. Whether it’s breastfeeding, homeschooling, going back to school, or learning a new craft, skill, or hobby, don’t set yourself up to fail. Don’t give yourself that “just in case it’s not going perfectly, I can quit” out; make yourself stick to it long enough to get past the rocky parts and see if it really is the right thing for your (and/or your kids). Look for one or two of the best resources on whatever it is you’re doing (don’t clutter yourself up with too much advice from too many disparate sources) and line up one or two support people who you know will be your cheerleader. This isn’t advice to feel guilty about not getting it right or not being 100% successful or changing your mind about what’s right for you; things don’t always work out as planned. The real failure is in not having the faith in yourself to give yourself the kind of fair chance you’d give anyone else.

2. Short-changing your accomplishments and only talking about your chid(ren)’s. One of the worst things women do to themselves isn’t to play up their kids’ milestones and accomplishments, but to downplay their own. That your kid sleeps for an hour longer that someone else’s kid is only an accomplishment in the short term, and it’s the kid’s accomplishment, not yours. Don’t make your child’s mini-milestones the only things you ever brag about. You are awesome; talk about it. If your friends don’t ever want to hear that kind of stuff, they’re not really your friends…or maybe they’re too afraid to talk about their own accomplishments and need a little support to find what’s great about themselves! Encourage them to embrace their own awesomeness, too — it’s so much more pleasant and less petty than playdate one-ups-man-ship.

3. Lying to your spouse/partner about your needs. Not all partners are equal when it comes to supporting their partners’ needs, but if you don’t even tell them your needs, how do you expect them to rise to support them? I know we want our partners to be psychic; they aren’t. You shouldn’t be sneaking off to get a manicure or a massage — not because you shouldn’t get those things, but because sneaking is beneath you and it’s beneath your partner. You’re an adult, for Pete’s sake! Tell your partner what you need, or you two really aren’t “partners;” you’re just two people who hang out together. If, after talking to your partner, s/he isn’t supportive of your needs, that’s a completely different issue, but when you lie to him/her about it, you aren’t even giving him/her the chance to step up.

4. Hiding how much money you spend or where you spend it. See above. Grown-ups don’t have to sneak around. Not only are you potentially wrecking your relationship with your partner by being dishonest (which sows a whole lot of doubt-seeds), you’re also potentially wrecking your family budget by hiding how money is spent. Not every family works off a budget, but having a carefully planned budget makes it a whole lot easier to plan for the hair cut, massage, pedicure, drink w/ the girls, etc. Don’t sneak; clearly express your needs and wants. Again, if at that point, your partner is unsupportive, it’s a different issue, but there’s nothing to be gained by sneaking around.

5. Treating your kid like a purse or a watch. Your child isn’t an accessory that you put on when s/he matches your outfit. Your child is a person. We don’t make other people sit in a pile of their own poop, ok? That’s just not cool. Parenting is often inconvenient, but try not to treat your children as though they were an inconvenience. They aren’t. They’re people, your people, your delightful wonderful tiny people who adore you and to whom you are the Master/Mistress of the Universe. Give yourself permission to show up a little late for appointments, just go ahead and accept you might have to watch your favorite show on Tivo or Hulu later, don’t leave the oven on, and stop to attend to your child’s needs when they arise, rather than when it’s most convenient for you.

6. Not giving yourself permission to be human. Humans are inherently flawed creatures. We screw up royally at almost every turn. Out best laid plans gang aft agley all over the damn place. We also waste so much time beating ourselves up over mistakes we’ve made that are over and done with. We wallow in our failures. Next time you screw up big time, instead of drowning in guilt over how you didn’t do it right, try to assess what can be learned from the screw-up and then say, “I’m human and humans screw up sometimes. What’s next?” When you hold yourself to impossible standards, you make yourself miserable and you aren’t a treat for those around you. I don’t mean to not set high standards. I’m not saying to excuse yourself for slack-assing through life. I’m not saying break wind at a state dinner (you know how I feel about manners). Just acknowledge you aren’t always going to get it perfectly right every single time. Accept it. Release that need to always be perceived as perfect. This is an area where I constantly struggle; I still feel guilty about a host of mistakes (ranging from insignificantly tiny to immeasurably huge) I’ve made over my life. I’m working hard to ditch the guilt over messing things up. Join me!

*And by “feel guilty about,” I mean, “give some consideration to,” because who the hell am I to dictate your guilt or lack thereof? I’m just a blogger, y’all, and Parenting is just a magazine. We aren’t the guideposts for your life. Listen to your instincts, make an effort to educate yourself from reputable sources, and if what I say helps you in any way, more power to both of us. <3 Peace out!

The homeschool community as a whole is hugely obsessed with “parents’ rights.” It’s primarily from the conservative Christian set, but there’s also a group within the Libertarian-leaning community that pretty strongly rejects the notion of children having inherent rights (over those of the parent) that should be legally outlined and protected. The HSLDA has a whole section devoted to parental rights. Any attempt to establish rights for the children are dismissed as “attacks from the left.” As you can imagine, the UNICEF Convention on the Rights of the Child is incredibly threatening to a group of people who believe that their children are, in fact, their property to do with as they will. That concept is at the center of the Pearls’ teachings — children are property, your property, and you can beat them into whatever shape that most pleases you.

Of course, it wasn’t that long ago that majority of people thought of women as property (many, as the above-mentioned Pearls, still do). It wasn’t that long ago in US history that black people were treated as property. Or Chinese people (who built the railroads? wasn’t well-treated, enfranchised workers being paid a living wage). Sharecropping was by and large another form of slavery, aimed at a socioeconomic group rather than a racial group (I come from some hardscrabble folk, myself). Humanity has a pretty ugly history of treating specific subsets of our number as property; part of our upward movement towards education and cultural enlightenment is, theoretically, that we stop doing that. With each group that seeks enfranchisement (or even the simplest and most basic of human rights), however, there is always a group that wants to keep that from happening. How sad that the group most invested in keeping children from having these basic human rights would be comprised almost entirely of parents.

“But s/he is MY child!” That’s the argument parents use for everything from cutting off healthy body parts, to custody/visitation, to “using the rod,” to indoctrinating children into harmful or hateful beliefs. Well, s/he may be your child, but s/he isn’t your property. If a person could ever be called property in good conscience, surely your child is the property of him/herself alone. You have the (very, considering a full lifespan) temporary care and keeping of your child’s body, but you do not own him. Incidentally, that a governing body would outline the rights of a child in law or policy doesn’t mean the government owns your child, either, any more than the Constitution means the government owns you (if anything, it shows how very clearly the government does not own you), so you can drop that particular argument. It just makes you look ignorant.

Last March, blogger DaMomma wrote an incredibly poignant and insightful (and yes, rather inciteful) post on the (non-)rights of parents, which I hope you will all read and take to heart:

DaMomma’s Parents’ Bill of No-Rights

I don’t have the right to see my child.

I have the sacred obligation to be available to her for nurture, comfort, discipline and guidance regardless of whether it is convenient for me.

I don’t have the right to be included in all the decision-making regarding my child.

I have the obligation to make my child’s needs my first priority and to evalute her needs without regard to my own stake. I have the moral duty to be the advocate of her interests, even if they may conflict with my own.

I do not have the right to make my child’s medical choices.

I have the obligation to use my status as an adult to seek out all the professional care my child needs, and to provide it. I am duty-bound to educate myself on health conditions my child has, and to advocate for her until she is able to advocate for herself.

I do not have the guaranteed love of my child.

I voluntarily made an 18-year commitment to be responsible for another person. I am owed nothing in return. My child did not ask to be born, and is not responsible for the decision I made to bring her here.

I am not entitled to respect.

I am obligated to teach my child boundaries, rules and limits — so she can function in the world, so she is tolerable to others. I have a duty to teach her how to behave. I earn my child’s respect.

My child is not an object to which I may claim ownership.

She is a human being with thoughts and feelings. My childhood is over. My time of being the priority has passed. Whatever I did or did not get is something I must address for myself. It is separate from my child. She is entitled to her own time of nurture, protection and joy and I am obligated to provide it.

I am not entitled to a return on my investment.

I am obligated to work hard every day to provide for my child’s material needs (including some of her wants) regardless of whether she sees me, likes me, or behaves in a manner of which I approve.

Your kid isn’t a pair of shoes or a belt.
Your kid isn’t a car or a bicycle.
Your kid isn’t a dog, a car, or a parakeet.
Your kid isn’t a house or a plot of land.
Your kid isn’t a houseplant or a field of wheat.
Your kid is a person and you do not, cannot, own a person. His rights supersede your wants.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Today, I’m wearing purple to raise awareness of anti-gay bullying. I’m not wearing purple for my kids, though. Gay or straight, my children are growing up in a home where they know that they and the people they love will be accepted. They know their parents will not tolerate–or perpetuate–homophobic bullying.

It’s your kids I’m wearing purple for today. You, over there…the one who believes that being gay is a choice, that being gay is a sin, that being gay is going to send your child or someone else’s to hell. You, in whose home a gay child will grow up being too afraid to share who he* really is, who will hide his true self out of fear of losing your love, who will hurt or kill himself because he doesn’t believe it will ever get better.

Your child is the one I’m wearing purple for today.

If you suspect, or know, your child is gay, here’s a few simple things you can do:

Don’t try to beat the gay out of him.
Don’t try to pray the gay out of him.
Don’t send him away to be reprogrammed.
Don’t try to have him committed.
Don’t ignore bullying at school because “boys will be boys.”
Don’t ignore bullying because it will “toughen him up.”
Don’t bully him.
Don’t mock him.
Don’t ridicule him.
Don’t try to “make a man out of him.”
Don’t tell him he’s a sinner.
Don’t tell him he’s going to hell.
Don’t tell him his love is less than yours.
Don’t tell him his love is wrong.
Don’t tell him he is wrong.
Don’t tell him he is unloved.
Don’t tell him he is unworthy of being loved.
LOVE HIM.

If you can’t do the things on that list, if you cannot love your child and treat him like a human being of equal worth, with equal rights, perfectly created by God to be exactly who he is, then for God’s sake and your child’s, send him to me. I’ll open my doors to him, because I’d rather have him safe and cared-for here than abused and bullied to the point of hurting himself there. Or…or…won’t you try letting go of your hate and your fear and your ignorance, embracing your LGBTQ child, telling him how much you love him, that he is cherished in your home, that you will keep him safe and will never, ever, ever perpetuate bigotry, hate, or homophobia.

Can’t you do that? Can’t you wear purple in your own heart for YOUR child and the children of others?

*I say “he” in this post because the tragic bullying-related teen suicides in the media lately have all been among seemingly-cisgendered males who either self-identified as gay or were labeled gay by others, but for those of you with lesbian daughters, for those of you with transgendered children, for those of you with bisexual or genderqueer children, please apply the same rules.

What do you think about the “so glad to send the kids back to school” sentiment from people whose children are in public/private school? This topic came up on the Well Trained Mind forums, and opinions were mixed.

Some people felt like it was merely an expression of relief to return to a familiar routine. I’m sure that’s part of it, and is perhaps the actual intent behind some parents’ jubilation over the return to school, though that might be somewhat belied by the sheer exuberance about the children being gone for the day.

Some people felt it was expressive of sometimes we all (even homeschoolers) feel, which is “I’d like ONE FRIGGIN QUIET MINUTE TO MYSELF NOW PLEASE THANK YOU!” Definitely a sentiment with which I can empathize, as I dearly enjoy a brief break from the constant demands of parenting, though I don’t think I’m in any way entitled to a 7-8 hour break, 5 days a week.

Some people felt like it was indicative of an unhealthy mentality about what our “real lives” are or should be and how we must send children away in order to have those “real lives.” I think this is the crux of it and this is far from the only area where this mentality manifests. I also don’t think this is something people are making up in their own heads; there’s serious social pressure to divorce our “real” identities from parenting and to celebrate opportunities to not be beholden to our children’s needs.

When a woman gets pregnant, she’s bombarded with social messages that tell her she is supposed to “want her body back,” and the pressure begins to keep pregnancy as short as possible. When she breastfeeds, she’s not only told she’s supposed to “want her body back,” but to “want her life back,” something that can only be done by weaning the baby, of course, since breastfeeding is clearly not a part of life and “life” seems to be comprised of as many tactics as possible to physically distance yourself from your offspring. Case in point, when her child becomes school age, the woman is supposed to rejoice in sending the child away (to “real” school, of course), so she can finally “have her life back” again.

“Life,” by the way, doesn’t mean the responsible thing you’re living, with a spouse/partner, children, and a job. “Life” actually means that thing you were doing BEFORE kids, BEFORE responsibility, when everything was fun, fun, fun and you were only responsible for yourself. There’s this emphasis on the false notion of “adult life,” which seems to actually be code for “second youth,” a period of late teen/early 20s-like self-indulgence, partying, and forgetting (temporarily, at least) that one even has children. Most of the people I encounter who are longing for this “adult life” aren’t talking about added responsibility or maturity, but time without children in order to act like children. This is adulthood? This is “real” life?

This isn’t a mentality found solely in public school parents. If anything, I think it’s a generational problem. Gen X grew up, with all their extra self esteems and misplaced sense of entitlement (seriously, I’ve read articles written by Gen Xers saying Baby Boomers should retire, because they’re selfishly keeping all the good jobs), and they’ve had a hard time adjusting to the fact that they are no longer the center of the universe or life of the party. I feel perfectly comfortable saying this, since I’m at the tail end of the Gen X generation, and I have seen it in so many of my peers over the years. I think my generation is getting far worse with age, actually, because that self-involvement that was charming in a teen and tolerable in a 20-something has become very tired in a 30-something. Gen X can’t pull its head out of its collective asses long enough to realize that this message of “real” life that they’re buying into so completely isn’t real at all. It’s fabricated by people who are selling something, be it baby formula or school supplies or a mentality about your “real” life.

Why are they so happy their kids are going back to school? They’re told they’re supposed to be.

And they bought it.

I don’t usually “mix causes” (as La Leche League calls it, speaking of causes) on this blog. I tend to keep it relatively topical. When it comes to this topic, however, I think it’s time to speak up.

I feel strongly about the importance, nay, the necessity of breastfeeding. I have breastfed all three of my children, including Babypie, who is still going strong at 8 1/2 months. In fact, my cumulative time spent breastfeeding is over five years at this point! I’ve overcome a handful of struggles, but mostly, my path to breastfeeding has been pretty easy. I grew up in a family where breastfeeding was just how you fed your babies. I never considered any other way. I have birthed and raised my children surrounded by people who believe babies should be breastfed, and that support has allowed me to feed my children in the way nature (and, if you’re religiously minded, God) intended. Breastfeeding your children is a physiologically, biologically, psychologically normal thing to do. In breast milk are the keys to unlocking many aspects of the body’s normal growth and development. Why would I do anything else, short of dire medical necessity?

Not every woman has the support I had. Many of them are raised in formula-normative homes and know little about breastfeeding. Misconceptions, social pressure, and outright lies persist. Husbands, family, and friends put pressure on women to stop breastfeeding early, or to not start at all. Women pass misinformation along to each other. Doctors and nurses are woefully ignorant about the realities of how human lactation works. Formula companies have millions and millions of dollars to dump into advertising. They have, successfully, waged a campaign devoted to making breastfeeding seem irrelevant, frumpy, vaguely primitive, and somewhat shameful and embarrassing (make sure you cover up with one of those tents “hooter hiders”). On the other hand, breastfeeding doesn’t exactly have corporate sponsorship. There’s very little money to be made off successful breastfeeding, beyond pumps for working moms (usually a one time purchase) and a few inexpensive fripperies that can make breastfeeding a little more convenient, but aren’t at all necessary for most women. Breastfeeding isn’t big business with big businesses ad budget.

That’s why I’m here today stumping for the Best for Babes Foundation, a non-profit organization that is devoted to changing the perception of breastfeeding. They want to “market, brand, and mainstream” breastfeeding as something that is healthy, empowering, normal, and even hip. They do this through educating women about institutional and cultural “booby traps”, offering positive images of breastfeeding role-models (no frumps stuck at home wearing oversized button-up shirts here!), tips on finding breastfeeding-supportive care providers, and more. They also very honestly acknowledge the potential pitfalls of an advertising campaign for breastfeeding.

I’m trying to do my part, through spreading the word, and you can help, too. On the right hand side of Smrt Lernins, you’ll see a little rectangular box advertising Best for Babes. Click on that box (or on this link) and you’ll be take to a page explaining how you can help Best for Babes run its ad campaign. You can also follow @BestforBabes on Twitter and join their cause on Facebook. While you’re at it, why not check out the awesome website, PhD in Parenting, a supporter of Best for Babes and a great resource for parents.

Now back to your regularly scheduled smrt lernins.

Here’s something that we* have noticed cropping up on the Well Trained Mind forums: mothers of toddlers, especially babies or very young toddlers, with no older children, who refer to themselves as “homeschoolers” and to the interaction they have with these small children as “homeschooling.”

Ok, mothers (or fathers) of the wee younglings. Let’s lay this out on the table. What you are doing isn’t homeschooling; it’s parenting. Whether you plan to educate your kids at home, send them to private school, or put them on a bus to public school, regardless of the method you might be planning to use in the future, what you are doing right now with your 6 month old, 1 year old, or 2 year old is not homeschooling. Staying home with little Mackynzie and Skyler, teaching them their ABCs, coloring, playing with play dough, teaching them shapes and colors — that isn’t homeschooling. That’s mothering (or fathering) and I would hope you do that regardless of your future educational choices.

You don’t have to justify being an involved parent by calling it homeschooling. You don’t have to validate being a stay-at-home parent by calling it homeschooling. Parenting your children is inherently justified, inherently valid. It is a good thing, a virtuous and noble calling that is practiced around the world without any need to introduce the degree of formality that you get when you try to label it “homeschooling” just to make it sound like you’re “doing something.” Parenting is doing something, an irreplaceable something, and helping your child learn in those early years is a facet of parenting.

How will you know when parenting begins to cross the line into homeschooling? Think of it this way: If you had never heard of homeschooling, would you not read to Mackynzie? Would you never help Skyler differentiate between blue and green? Of course you would, because that’s part of parenting your child. You don’t have to have even the vaguest concept of what homeschooling is to know those are things you should probably be doing with your child. As your child gets older, however, and his/her contemporaries are starting to be loaded up into minivans to sit in carpool lines for their twice weekly preschool, but you’re sitting down with Mackynzie to work on phonics or playing math games with Skyler, you’re starting to get into the homeschooling arena. You’re beginning the process of formalizing, or simply crystallizing, that parental guiding and modeling into educating. That parenting in the early years was laying the foundation for a child who will love to learn, but now you can begin to lay down some bricks and beams (and yes, the house metaphor will end here).

In short, your one year old isn’t homeschooled because she doesn’t need to be homeschooled. She needs to be mothered (or fathered). She needs parental attention, interaction, and guidance. She needs to be shown which things are important and set on the path to education. She does not, God help us all, need a curriculum. She doesn’t need an educational methodology applied to the time you spend together. There is no Classical Parenting, no Waldorf Parenting, no Montessori Parenting, no Unschooling Parenting (or if there is, there shouldn’t be) — there’s just a child and the adults who love and guide her. Let her be a baby and a toddler before you try to make her a student of anything but the world. Revel in motherhood or fatherhood, and if you look to a time when you will also be a teacher, do it without envy or haste.

Just because you aren’t homeschooling yet, it doesn’t mean you won’t. Just because you aren’t homeschooling yet, it doesn’t mean that what you’re doing doesn’t have a most remarkable purpose. A mother or father really is exactly what your child needs you to be. It’s not sub-par, less-than, or requiring additional titles to make it a worthwhile profession. Parent now; homeschooling will come later.

*Not meaning the royal “we,” but Patchfire, Snowbird, and me. It would be disingenuous for me to say that I noticed it, because I’m not the one who pointed it out in conversation today. That was Snowbird.