The Tao of Poop: December 2013

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Santa Employs Sweatshop Labor

I surveyed the bounty of my daughter’s toys around me, and knew I could come up with a long list of what I would banish from Santa’s List.

There were the fine, easy plastic pieces that had spread out like a diaspora from their homeland toy. There were princesses taunting me with vapid, feckless smiles. I saw lego pieces that look innocent by day, but lie in wait to lodge in the tender part of the unsuspecting arch of the foot in the middle of the night. Then, the musical toys chimed in randomly with their voices of good cheer...oh, and the DVD’s that my daughter pesters me endlessly to watch...the dried-out markers and broken crayons...

Santa's list should not include these toys

The sheer amount of toys made me optimistic that Santa's unlist would be lengthy.

Q is the man for the job!

That’s when I realized that an unlist just wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to consider a complete overhaul of the Santa system. No, I’m not recommending the demise of Christmas altogether. I’m not that Grinch-like. I’m suggesting something more along the lines of Santa hiring Q from 007 to ensure toys self-destruct just around the time that fat baby rings in the New Year.

Hear me out. What’s the fun part of Christmas for the kids anyway? It's the ritual of it all...putting out a plate of cookies and glass of milk, imagining Santa and his team on the roof, waking up with the sun, racing down the stairs and ripping the paper off the presents and opening the boxes for the big reveal!

Let's face it, after that's done, you get a few hours of toy contemplation and the Christmas booty gets relegated to the Land of Forgotten Toys. Or, worse! If Santa's treasures aren’t abandoned altogether, then, parental involvement becomes necessary in the form of a job that offers zero pay, no upward mobility and no benefits: toy management (aka picking toys up off of the floor once an hour every hour).

We all know Santa employs elves at sweatshop wages. Parents, we are being equally exploited here!

So, Santa, either we get a raise for our integral role in the whole merry-making system or hire Q. I know, I know. You’ve been at this a long time. It’s hard to change your ways. But if Jeff Bezos can revolutionize retail, I have all the faith in the world that you can put a finger aside your nose like a cherry and make it happen. Consider me a modern-day Natalie Wood. I believe, Santa, I believe.

If you and Santa need any more convincing of the necessity for dire action in this matter, go check out the unlists of my mom-blog friends. Not only are their arguments sound, but they are funny and smart (just like them). I'm proud that these fearless women are my comrades in the fight against Santa's exploitation...

Jean from Mama Schmama, My Child Models Deserve the Best

Kristi from Finding Ninee, Three Things I Don't Want My Son to Get for Christmas

Katia from I am the Milk, The Gift that JUST. KEEPS. ON. GIVING.

Jen from My Skewed View, Dear Santa, Please Don't

Sarah from Left Brain Buddha, Holy Testosterone, Batman! {Why are Superheroes So ANGRY These Days?}

Stephanie from Mommy is for Real, Thanks for Nothing, "American Girls" - Why I Hate American Girl Dolls

Sarah from Sadder but Wiser Girl, Flaming Pillows and Other Christmas List No's

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Tree-Trimming Toddlers: A Cautionary Tale

I had high hopes for Christmas tree decorating. It was Claire’s first time participating in my favorite family tradition. But tree trimming was not all merry and bright at our house this holiday season...

“I want to put this one on the tree,” Claire says, holding up an ornament.

“Sure. That’s baby jesus,” I respond.

“I want to look at baby jesus first,” she says.

“OK, Claire,” I say…

“Claire, don’t put baby jesus in your mouth…Claire, baby jesus is not for eating!”…Ah, shit, Claire, you broke baby jesus!"

'Tis the season with a toddler! I wasn't surprised when the festivities started going awry...when Claire knocked over my coffee, which proceeded to splatter on the decorations sitting at the ready to deck the halls. Nor was I surprised when I had to say “get out from behind the tree” or “leave the ornaments alone” more often than the nation sings Jingle Bells each December.

But when I had imagined decorating the tree with my daughter for the first time, the words "baby jesus is not for eating" did not instantly spring to mind.

On the bright side, our family was together and the tree came out nice. The lesson to be learned is to lower expectations and be happy that everyone survived (well...except baby jesus).

******

Please join our link-up...

Welcome to The Sunday Parenting Party, hosted by Dirt and Boogers, Play Activities, Crayon Freckles, Taming the Goblin, The Golden Gleam, Prickly Mom, and The Tao of Poop. The SPP is place for readers to find ideas on nurturing, educating, and caring for children, as well as honest posts about the stresses of being a parent or caregiver. Links to reviews and giveaways are welcome as long as they are relevant to the topic. All parenting philosophies are welcome with one exception: please do not link to posts promoting physical discipline, as this is something we would feel uncomfortable having on our blogs. (P.S. By linking up you agree that your post and photos are Pinterest, Sulia, G+ and FB friendly. We will be showcasing ideas on The Sunday Parenting Party Pinterest board.)

And check out our fab feature this week from Fun At Home with Kids:

Teaching Young Kids about Giving

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Christmas Past, Present and Future

My daughter's only two years old, yet she's chosen a favorite Christmas carol. She even has a particular rendition of Jingle Bells that has taken her fancy. When she hears Bing Crosby crooning that proverbial song of the season, she yells "It's Santa Claus, mama!". Then, she starts singing along with the chorus, always a beat or two behind the melody like toddlers so affectionately do. She stops briefly to remind me that Andrew Sisters are "Mrs. Claus" collectively.

I nod enthusiastically in agreement. Who knows? Maybe, she's right! For me, the merry revelers are more like “babysitters” than the Clauses, since Claire can listen to that particular Christmas carol over and over again. In fact, I put it on repeat, and it’s kept her attention long enough to write this post. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving! And, unlike Wheels on The Bus, I haven’t gotten sick of it…yet.

Right now, I’m just fascinated watching her develop the language of the holidays. At two, Christmas is new and full of wonder. It's a gift to get to rediscover Christmas through her eyes.

Before Claire become so enamored with it, I hadn’t really paid much attention to that Bing Crosby/Andrew Sisters rendition of Jingle Bells. Really, it makes me think of music playing in the background at malls, as I pass the Salvation Army Santa and the perfume counter at Macy’s. I'm shuffling through the chaotic holiday crowd, list in hand. I'm way too busy to notice the music. But Claire's enthusiasm for the season helped me stop and take notice.

When I pulled the song up on my computer for Claire, a detail on iTunes caught my eye. The song was written in 1943. We listen to so few songs from this age -- the age of The Great War and the Greatest Generation, victory gardens, rationing, Rosie the Riveter.

I picture my grandmothers in their youth, like I've seen in old photo albums. They're in their bedrooms getting ready for the day. They turn the dial on the radio and happen upon Bing, before putting on their silk slips and hooking their stockings to their garters.

That's how I like to imagine they started their day. Really, I have no idea what 1943 was like. My grandparents' heyday was so long ago, and before all of us were even a twinkle in the eye. The idea of that time is probably filled with as much mythology as that of Santa Claus.

Yet, in 2013, Claire and I are listening to a song from generations past. My daughter will never come to know my grandparents. They fill my childhood memories of Christmas. I miss them and remember them most during the holidays.

My daughter has chosen to love a Christmas song that reminds me of my grandparents in so many ways. Her choice in song connects me to the past and the future. I recognize that traditions remain constant yet time moves forward. I'm reminded that traditions are both the legacy of those before us and are alive and changing, as we initiate our young ones into our cultural heritage.

Indeed, It's the most wonderful time of the year (my favorite Christmas song)!

Connect with: Bloglovin', FB, Twitter, G+, Pinterest

Sunday, December 1, 2013

The Yin and Yang of Parenting

A loud voice can be heard singing, “We’re on our way. We’re on our way, on our way to Grandpa’s farm…”

The person belting out children's verse with such abandon isn’t my daughter. It’s my husband. He has a beautiful, childlike quality, which is one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Now that we have Claire, it makes him an awesome dad. He can instantly get down on her level and have fun.

I can’t even begin to imagine being so excited about a children’s song. I think I came out of the womb all serious and adult-like. When I play with Claire, I am keenly aware of how I’m informing her development. In other words, I’m one step removed. I’m thinking about Claire’s fine-motor skills and how we are incorporating imaginative play into our activities instead of fully immersing myself in the play-doh with her.

I am jealous of my husband's ability to be so fully present with our daughter, but I also don’t think it’s such a bad thing that George and I influence her in different ways. Most of the time, we strike a good balance. This morning, George took Claire sledding, while I stayed home and made lunch. I’m sure he thinks he had all the fun. I was happy not to be cold. Claire had an adventure in the snow and came home to a warm meal -- a quintessential childhood experience, if you ask me.

Our distinct personality traits offer Claire a mix of good and bad too. Whereas, George can sit and laugh at the cartoons they watch together, he can quickly take it personally when she isn't cooperating. I may feel terribly self-conscious and foolish pretending to be a Cookie Monster puppet, but I have a better ability to step back from her toddler vicissitudes (on my good days).

Following his impulses is part of George’s nature, while analysis is mine. That’s fine. We just need to remember that my analytical tendency can swing too far into the land of joyless and frosty, while his playfulness can turn impatient and unpredictable.

If we keep those two things in mind, maybe...just maybe...if we are very lucky, our different parenting styles will lead to a well-rounded child instead of hours of fodder for the therapist’s couch.

How does your personality affect your parenting style?

Photo Source: Guadalupe Cervilla, Flickr

Connect with: FB, Twitter, G+, Pinterest

******

Please join our link-up...