The Tao of Poop

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).

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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)!

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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

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Sunday, November 24, 2013

Parents, Look at the Light Side!

I send George one or two links a week to articles that, in my humble opinion, offer sound parenting advice. In return, I receive links from him to things like the trailer from the 1974 Science Fiction movie, Zardoz, starring Sean Connery. So it seemed novel to me to get an email from him with the subject, “Important article on parenting”.

I clicked on the link and found an article from The Onion.

“Hmm, The Onion”, I thought, “Not exactly La Leche League or The American Academy of Pediatrics, but I’m game. It’s better than YouTube videos of laughing puppies or burping children."

I read on in horror....

The California Parenting Institute did a study and found that, regardless of parenting style employed, it’s a child’s fate to become a maladjusted adult.

Wow, that big claim could pretty much rock my world. I needed details. Like the informed parent that I pride myself on being, I looked for the study at the California Parenting Institutes’ website.

Evidently, I was not alone. The California Parents Institute was inundated with calls from nervous parents like me. These queries were much to the organization’s dismay; however, since the article was....

A HOAX.

“Oh, right, The Onion. Silly me,” I thought. “What a relief. I can go back to being puppet master of Claire’s destiny!”

But then I started thinking some more..

“Was George trying to tell me something? Maybe, he thinks I need to lighten up a bit. Perhaps, I should just let Claire be...He’s pretty good at that.”

So I haven’t sent him a link in awhile…a day or two, maybe. And for good measure, I checked out the link to Zardoz. You should too; it's pretty hilarious.

This post was pulled from the archives

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Check out this week's fabulous features:

Kristi, Finding Ninee, Past Relationships

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Developing a Child's Sense of Self...or Celebrating Bed Head

You know how kids get so excited to show their stuff to people who come to visit? It’s like they're under the impression that their own tiny hands actually stitched the teddy bear together, or that they slowly chiseled their toy duck from a block of wood.

Indeed, the other day, Claire fancied herself the architect of her favorite playground, and needed to give her Uncle Tom a tour of her brainchild.

Uncle Tom happily agreed to check out her swings and slide. That was fine, except Claire looked more suited for an afternoon nap than for the playground. She was still wearing pajamas, and she had bed head: her hair was smushed to the back of her head in endless tangles.

I usually don't care how Claire looks. There are only so many toddler battles I can face in a day. Why fight her when she wants to keep on her bow pajamas? (I did let her go out with underwear on her head one time, though. The funny part was that no one even batted an eye. Remember: we live in NYC; people are thankfully non-plussed.)

But Uncle Tom and Claire decided a trip to the park was imminent. And Tom is a photographer. When he grabbed his camera before heading out the door, I looked at Claire and said to him, “You’re not going to put these on Facebook are you? I don’t want anyone knowing I let Claire go out this way.”

Ah, yes, my child as brilliant extension of me. Those time when I see my daughter’s looks or her behavior or her intelligence as a reflection on me.

It got me thinking about the boundary that begins developing between parent and child the second they leave the womb. And, consequently, how we grow a child's sense of self.

I read somewhere that the relationship between a parent and child is unique, because it’s the only one in which the purpose is to love and nurture enough to let the person go.

A good place to start the slow, sometimes painful, process of separation is letting my daughter choose what she wears.

But, sometimes, I'm more concerned about myself than Claire's sense of self. Like the days when we are going to go visit Grammy or taking a picture with Santa. Those days, I am full of bribes and threats to have my sweet innocent reflect her beauty back on me.

Other days, I let her be. She did go to the playground in all of her bedheaded, pajamaed glory. And I have a brilliant Uncle Tom photo to prove it. I barely even notice the pajamas in it. If I do say so myself, I couldn't ask for a better reflection on me...

Photo Source: Tom Bruso

There's more...Jane Marsh of Nothing by the Book got me thinking about this topic. She has a definite opinion about hair brushing that I can safely say would go in the "Celebrating Bed Head" category. What's your opinion about how a child should look?

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Check out this week's fabulous features:

Cristi, Motherhood Unadorned, Mother Freakin' Funny (you'll laugh, oh boy, you'll laugh!)

Stephanie, Mommy is for Real, When Your Child is Anxious (such good advice!)

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

The Motherhood Test Manual

The saying goes, "You need a license to go fishing, but any old fool can have a child." I have to say I’m kinda glad there isn’t a motherhood test. I'm not so sure I would have passed it, before having Claire. There's just so much you can't anticipate about being a mom.

Honestly, I don't know how they'd fit all of the requisite skills in the test manual anyway. And I would love to see the diagrams in the booklet for some of the following areas of mothering mastery. (And, wow, this list only takes us partially through the toddler years! My head just might explode thinking about the terrain ahead of me.)

How to:

1) Lodge your child into a stroller, high chair or carseat, while his or her legs are locked shut in protest.

2) Blindly retrieve an errant toy in the backseat of the car for your screaming child with one hand, while steering with the other.

3) Change a diaper while your child is standing up, in the car, at a restaurant or has no intention of cooperating.

4) Balance your child on one knee, while pushing the drinking fountain button or turning on the faucets in a public restroom.

5) Survive on the calories leftover on your child's plate, which are shoveled into your mouth in the corner of the kitchen with a baby spoon, because you don't want to waste a perfectly good piece of clean cutlery or all the regular-sized ones are already dirty.

6) Match your child’s enthusiasm for Curious George or the Wheels on the Bus after the thousandth rendition of the day.

7) Deal peacefully with the mother who thought it was funny when her child whacked your child in the mouth with a toy truck.

8) Chase and catch your kid and grab the breakable glass in hand, while masterfully dodging the plethora of tiny plastic pieces on the floor, which could do bodily harm if lodged in a foot.

9) Do crisis management with exploding poop. My discretion tells me to leave it at that without providing any further details.

10) Manage to cut up vegetables for a mirepoix without slicing your finger open, while your child successfully pulls down your yoga pants.

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Illustrations courtesy of the brilliant and lovely...Kristi Campbell of Finding Ninee. Hilarious pictures are only half her talent. Her words are equally smart and funny. If you don't believe me, go check out this post. You'll LOL when you see the picture that goes with the gem:

"Note to future self: ALWAYS check out your own ass in the bathroom mirror. It might be virtually naked."

(Bet you're already LOL'ing. Kristi has a way like that. Now, if you have any of your own feats of mothering to share, please do so below. Then, head over to Finding Ninee. You'll be glad you did!)