Parenting

Score: Girl Scouts 1, Uptight People 0

By now it’s old news that Girl Scouts U.S.A. allowed a transgender child to join a troop in Colorado. The reason this is resurfacing is that there are still people protesting about it. Some of my friends and I are still seeing messages on Facebook. I have at least one acquaintance who sends me frequent messages about why my daughter should not be part of such an “immoral” organization. And just a few days ago, a friend whose daughter wants to join Girl Scouts had her post removed on Facebook because someone reported it as “abusive.”

Having already dispelled the myth that Girl Scouts donates part of their proceeds to Planned Parenthood or that they’re giving out how-to sex tracts to 8-year-old girls, protestors have moved on to the next Big Bad Evil. Unfortunately, this one won’t go away, because it’s true. Girl Scouts states that if a child is living as a girl and her parents present her as such, she may join a troop. Right this minute, unbeknownst to anyone, there may be any number of transgirls in troops across the U.S.

I think I understand the fear behind the protests, ridiculous though it may be. The fear is that we’re sending our girls out into the world, under someone else’s care. We want to know that they are safe. The mistaken belief that a transgirl is really just a boy in disguise muddies our sense of security. There’s a fear that a “boy” amongst a group of girls will try to take advantage of them. Maybe not at age 7, but certainly by the time puberty hits.

Already, from an early age, we are teaching our children two falsehoods: That boys and men are to be feared, and that transpeople are just pretending to be something they are not. This fosters a sense of impending victimization in young girls. It also fails to understand the truth about transpeople. And when we then refuse to allow our daughters to participate in Girl Scouts, they miss out on having a safe place to learn healthier interactions.

Anyone has the right to refuse his or her daughter participation in Girl Scouts. No one is being forced to support the organization by purchasing cookies. And even if the issue is not wanting to have a daughter in the same troop with a transgirl, then parents are welcome to look for another troop or leave their daughter as a Juliet (a scout without a troop). But protesting the organization and demanding that they change their policies to one that becomes less inclusive is not appropriate, especially given that Girl Scouts is a non-religious organization. And reporting someone’s Facebook status because you don’t like the fact that another girl might join, that another parent is making a different choice than you would have, is downright cowardly.

You know what I say to that? Right on, Girl Scouts. You’ve now assured that I will be continuing to allow my child to participate and that for the rest of my life, I will make sure that I continue to support your organization.

Parenting Pride: What’s in Our Hearts?

Parenting

Last night, I read this blog post about bragging. I should start out by saying that I really like Glennon, the author of this blog. But I strongly disagree with her thoughts on this one topic.

This quote sums up Glennon’s position on parents talking about their kids’ accomplishments:

. . . Craig and I have a steadfast rule – no bragging to anyone except each other or the grandparents. We used to allow ourselves to brag to our sisters, but now that they have kids, they’re off limits too.

Basically, our rule means that we keep our mouths shut in public and then we talk in bed about how our kids are better than anyone else’s kids in the whole entire world.

Glennon states her reasons for this as being twofold: Separating unconditional love from pride in accomplishment; respect for other parents. These are noble intentions, but I don’t agree that this is the only way to handle those things.

First, she’s absolutely right that pride and love can end up confused. However, our children still need to hear words of praise. I grew up with very little of that. I knew my parents loved me, but I never knew if they thought I was doing a good job. When I came home from college my second semester, having scored excellent grades, my father told me that I had done better than he had his first year of college—but that his major was harder than mine. It was a slap in the face; I had worked hard and achieved something I was proud of, but I still couldn’t expect so much as a “Well done!” and have it left at that. When my father tells me that he is “proud” of me now, I have a hard time believing it. He lives hundreds of miles away, has never met my daughter, and in fact has no idea whatsoever what I’m doing these days.

Expressing pride in our kids’ accomplishments can be taken too far, and they may learn to associate love with pride. But a well-placed compliment about the hard work we’ve seen them do can be significant. When our kids have poured themselves into something, heart and soul, we have no problem telling them we’re proud of them. When they’ve succeeded at a task, we honor that. We also make sure that we tell them, every day in multiple ways, that we love them. We show them, we say, “I love you,” we deliver affection. I don’t think that congratulating them on their report cards or dance performances is going to cause them to think we only love them when they do something big.

Second, I have no problem with friends who “brag” about their kids on Facebook and Twitter. I personally don’t put anything up about report cards, but I have no problem with friends who do. I love hearing about the things my friends’ kids are doing. I watch the videos of the piano recitals, I check out the photos from the dance recitals, I hit “like” when a friend’s kid wins the Pinewood Derby. I’m secure in my parenting and I’m proud of the things my kids do, which allows me to celebrate other people’s kids. Sure, I’ve seen parents who don’t handle this very well. There is no question that insecurity often leads to parents who make sure everyone knows their kids are better than everyone else. We’ve all seen the parent who asks for “advice” about their “genius” toddler or the person who never puts anything on Facebook except a lot of pictures of their kids’ awards. But those people are rare, and I remind myself that they probably do these things out of a fear that their kids might not be as good as everyone else’s.

Third, I disagree with Glennon’s perspective that we need to refrain from talking about our kids’ accomplishments out of respect for others. She probably doesn’t mean it this way, but when she says,

And every time I see someone post about their child’s seven goals, I think about my mama friends at home, struggling with their children who have Lyme, or PANDAS, or cerebral palsy, whose kids have a hard time making it up the stairs much less up and down a soccer field.

there is an implication that parents whose kids have Lyme or PANDAS or cerebral palsy have kids who don’t accomplish anything. This idea that somehow one kid being good at soccer takes away from another who isn’t is not only nonsense but hurtful nonsense. I have many friends with special needs kids. Believe me, there is a lot to celebrate, honor, and be proud of. And what about families with one child who is physically and academically capable and one who isn’t? Should those parents refuse to congratulate their child on her accomplishments because her sister might “feel bad”?

I’m sure she didn’t mean to be, but that last bit was self-righteous. Implied in those words was the idea that she, and only she, understands how hard it is for parents with kids who have special needs or learning disabilities. She isn’t looking at it from the perspective of a parent who is actually in that situation. I have a child with ADHD. It may not be physically debilitating, but it’s not easy to manage. Do I wish that he could be like every other kid? Sure, sometimes. Will it keep him from doing some of the things other parents brag about? Yes, definitely. But I wouldn’t change a thing, and I would never tell another mom that she shouldn’t tell the world about her kid because mine is struggling.

I think this boils down to a basic personality difference. Glennon’s life experiences are her own, and my life experiences are my own. She is free to do as she likes. My suggestion would be that if she is bothered by reading parent brags, she should consider not reading them. I hope my friends don’t stop telling me about what their kids are doing, because I’m still listening.

As for what we say when we talk about our kids, we should think carefully about what’s in our hearts. If we’re putting up a Facebook update about something our kids do, it should not be in order to boost our own egos or to cut down others. We should imagine how it will sound to others. Does it sound like we’re saying our kids are better than everyone else? Are we disguising bragging through asking for “advice”? Have we made it sound as though we’re merely relieved our kids aren’t turning out to be delinquents? What’s in our hearts when we share is just as important as what’s in our hearts when we tell our kids we’re proud of them. Other people should know how much we love our kids and that our love isn’t dependent on grades, awards, and goals scored.

Scooby-dooby-don’t!

Parenting, Women

This morning, I picked my son up from school. The kids had a half day, so we had the whole afternoon planned together. On the ride home, I heard the kids talking the way they sometimes do. They were “in character,” taking on the roles as they engaged in pretend play. My daughter is the one who likes this sort of play, dragging her brother along for the ride. She has quite the range of characters she likes to play. We had an entire year in which everyone in the family had to endure, “Let’s play _____ [some movie, cartoon, or book]. Who do you want to be?” It was constant, to the point that I was worried about why my daughter never seemed to want to be herself. You know, the sort of weird thing moms fret about, but that are normal parts of childhood.

Anyway, whenever she’s in the mood for this sort of role-playing, and insists her brother play along, he resorts to his default character. To please his sister, he made up this character called “Jack Spy.” I don’t think Jack Spy does any actual spying; I think my son just needed something on the fly one time and that’s what popped into his head. Apparently, the kids have a whole world devoted to Jack Spy, though. His sister is “Sarah Spy” (yeah, my kids are really original sometimes). I think they have pets, and they have a whole “show” about their adventures (which usually, as I said, don’t include spying of any type; but whatever).

Getting back to the car ride (I do have a point somewhere in here), they had gotten into character. Sarah was playing Bowser Junior from Mario Kart, and Jack was Jack Spy. As I listened to them talking, something struck me: Sarah usually takes on the roles of male characters. She didn’t even want to be Sarah Spy today, she wanted Bowser Junior to join Jack Spy on his adventures. From the way she was talking, this is because Sarah Spy doesn’t appear in the adventures very often, as she is “just” Jack Spy’s sister (and therefore not very interesting). The real Sarah wanted a more active role.

Some of it is personality. Sarah’s the kind of kid who, given the choice, will be an animal rather than a human when engaged in pretend play. And let’s face it, most animal sidekicks are male. But at least part of the problem is just that—there aren’t many interesting female characters (leads, sidekicks, or pets). And by interesting, I don’t just mean “smart” or “resourceful.” I mean the kind of girls and women who have adventures just like their male counterparts.

I don’t think it’s bad to have female characters that are smart and resourceful. Hermione Granger and Velma from Scooby-Doo are two of my favorites (although I would argue that they get to have real adventures, rather than just being brainy). The problem is that there aren’t many like them, females who are adventuresome and brave as well as clever. As I pointed out above, it’s just as bad when you have a kid who likes animals. I can’t think of any female sidekick pets that get the kind of press the boys do.

I’m sure some well-meaning woman will have soothing words for me that it’s just pretend play; that I’m reading too much into it; that there are plenty of good female role models out there; or that it’s more important for her to have real people she can look up to. To a degree, that’s true. At the same time, though, there is something that troubles me about it. I’d like her fictional heroes to represent her demographic, at least some of the time.

It’s time we stopped believing the lie that it doesn’t matter whether a hero is male or female, therefore we can go with male because men are more universal. If it really doesn’t matter, then why not have girls and women equally represented? After all, we make up half the population! It would be nice if instead of believing the hero’s sister is uninteresting, she could create a sister character who is just as adventuresome as her big brother. But to do that, she needs to see it modeled.

So, fellow female writers, let’s make it happen. Let’s create female characters that our spunky daughters are glad to emulate. And let’s take Hermione out of the classroom and out from behind her male friends, and send her on a wild adventure of her own.

What I Want My Kids to Know: You Are Safe

LGBTQ+, Parenting

I read this article yesterday. It’s about the plight of homeless LGBT youth. Did you know that between twenty and forty percent of homeless youth are LGBT, even though only five percent of youth self-identify as such? You probably didn’t, unless this is an issue you already care about. I urge you to start caring.

Want to know why these kids are homeless?

They’re homeless because their parents kicked them out. Parents whose job it is to protect their children until they are grown. People who looked at the child they (presumably) love(d) and said, “I don’t want to live with someone like you.” So instead of graduating high school and maturing into adulthood, these youths are sleeping in subway cars, on park benches, and in abandoned buildings. They’re surviving any way they can. Or they’re not; they’re also dying. And what sucks most about it is that it doesn’t have to be that way.

The institution of the Church has failed these kids in three important ways. First, we’ve created the attitudes that lead to some parents practicing what they think is “tough love” because we’ve called these kids “abominations.” Second, we’ve failed because we haven’t called out those parents in our churches who do this to their kids. We’ve let them, even if it makes us uncomfortable to hear. Third, we haven’t picked up where these parents left off. We haven’t made a safe place to shelter these kids, or we’ve told them they can have help if they “repent.”

I’m not merely angry about that. I’m outraged. I have kids. I simply cannot imagine asking one of my children to leave my house because of being gay. I cannot imagine, for any reason, not wanting to take the chance to deepen our relationship. I cannot imagine wanting to give up on all the other things I would miss about being a parent. Most of all, I cannot imagine sending my teenaged child out into the world alone with nothing.

You know what I want my kids to know? I want them to know just how much we love them. I hope that they know that we, their parents, are safe people. That they don’t have to fear being asked to leave our home because of who they are.

Our kids are still young, so anything can happen. If one day one of them (or both, who knows?) comes to us and says, “Mom and Dad, I’m gay,” do you know what will happen? The first thing I’m going to do is offer a hug and say, “I love you. I’m proud of you. I’m glad that we trust and respect each other enough that you could share important things about yourself with us.” And then I’m not going to do anything else except listen.

I hope that, somewhere deep down, my kids know this. I hope my daughter knows that if she grows up and marries another woman, we will be in the front row and I will be the one crying (just a little)—not because she’s marrying a woman, but because weddings are beautiful and they make people cry. I hope my son knows that if he grows up and marries another man, we will be the ones cheering the loudest when the officiant announces their new union—not because gay weddings are “better” than straight weddings, but because he has the right to be legally wed to the person he loves. I hope my kids both know that, gay or straight, this holds true no matter what.

Do you know why? Because it’s not about me.

It’s not about what I want. The moment we decided to become parents, it stopped being about us. I haven’t loved everything about being a parent. I didn’t enjoy colic or 2am feedings or dirty diapers. I don’t like cleaning up vomit or blood or food left in lunchboxes for three days. I don’t like meting out consequences for rude behavior or breaking up fights over toys or keeping kids occupied on (frequent) seven hour drives. I get frustrated with backtalk and whining and laziness. But I put up with all of it, because it comes with the territory. I got to choose whether or not to be a mom. I didn’t get to choose my kids’ personalities or their intelligence or their biological make-up. And I don’t get to choose their sexuality.

I know, as a parent, that it’s hard when our kids turn out differently than we hoped. I didn’t ask to have a son with ADHD. I didn’t ask to have a daughter who is probably the most opinionated child alive. My life would certainly be a lot less complicated without those things. But I love the messiness of it all. I love having a son who is creative and artistic, who can’t sit still in class but who can perform a complicated dance on stage. I love having a daughter who is passionate about what she believes in, who mouths back at me at least once a day but also leads her peers with grace and conviction. What would I have to give up in order for my children to be “perfect”?

When you change just one thing, you change it all. What are the parents who kick their LGBT kids out giving up? What parts of their kids would they trade for straight kids? I know if it were me, I wouldn’t want to give up anything.

I just hope I’ve managed to tell my kids that often enough.

Who Knows You Best?

Parenting

Not long ago, I had a conversation about introverts and extroverts. Honestly, I should know better. It never ends well. A not-so-small part of me believes that introverts and extroverts will never truly understand one another. An even bigger part of me believes most people have no idea what the terms mean and will insist on using them incorrectly.

I was speaking about my older kid. I said that I wonder sometimes where he came from, since my husband, our daughter and I are all introverts but our son is not. He’s about as extreme an extrovert as I’ve ever met.

A few people (introverted people, I might add) were nodding in agreement. But a few said, “Your husband is an introvert? I don’t see that.” Folks often say that. My husband is outgoing and can be a lot of fun, so many people think he must be like that all the time. I admit, he is a fun guy. But he needs his space and being with others wears him out mentally and emotionally.

I don’t mind that a few of those who don’t know my husband well have the wrong impression. I expect that. What I didn’t expect was for one of my acquaintances to tell me that I was wrong, and that my husband couldn’t possibly be an introvert.

Oh, really?

Huh. I’ve known him for almost 19 years, been married to him for nearly 15. Yet I don’t know him well enough to know what his personality is like, and I need someone who has known him less than half the time we’ve been married to set me straight?

Although it may seem like it, I’m not actually holding a grudge. I’m more puzzled than upset by it. I admit, I have no idea what possesses people to believe that they know someone else better than those who are closest to the person.

I saw this last week when I took J to see the psychologist to officially diagnose his ADHD.

When J’s teacher first talked to us about the problems J was having at school (not sitting still, impulsive behaviors, emotional lability), we weren’t surprised. J came out of the womb that way. My husband even said to me, “Can a kid be just the ‘h’ part of ADHD?” (They can, although it is the least common type of ADHD, and a few specialists believe it doesn’t exist as a separate diagnosis.)

Armed with this, I went into the appointment. I told the psychologist that J’s primary problems were hyperactivity, impulsivity, and possible executive function (decision-making) problems. I explained what his teacher has observed and what we’ve seen at home, church, and dance. I told her that we rarely see inattention. In fact, we don’t even see much of the hyper-focusing that some inattentive kids do (except if he’s immersed in a good book; but who doesn’t do that, even without ADHD?).

Most of which the psychologist proceeded to ignore.

She met with us for less than an hour, most of which she spent talking to me instead of J. She concluded that the reason he doesn’t struggle with inattention at school (only with hyperactivity/impulsivity) is that he is smart. (He is, but that’s not why he likes school. He likes to learn and we haven’t found much of anything that doesn’t hold his interest.) She told me that he won’t like school when he is older. (I have no idea where she got that impression.) She failed to listen when I said that it’s not generally a problem getting him to do his homework, provided he does it alone in someplace quiet. She didn’t engage with him at all during our session. And yet, she gave me the impression she thought she knew him better than I, or his classroom teacher, or his dance teachers, or his Sunday school teachers, know him.

She only ever asked J two questions, both of which were about how he “felt” about himself and school. Then she told us that since hyperactive/impulsive type ADHD is rare, it couldn’t possibly apply to J.

And she suggested that we urge his doctor to prescribe meds.

For the inattentiveness she is sure will manifest itself in another three years. If at all.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Next week, I’m meeting with a different psychologist, one who comes highly recommended. He won’t even consider a diagnosis until he’s met with me and then with J twice. After that, the plan is to continue regular appointments for ongoing evaluation and discussion of how we can best meet J’s needs. I’m not entirely against medication, but I want to know that the professional who prescribes it knows J and understands him. I want to know that other avenues have been explored first. And I don’t want those of us who know him intimately to be dismissed as though our experiences don’t matter. It’s possible that the psychologist we saw is right, and J does have combined type ADHD. But someone needs to do more than ask him one or two irrelevant self-esteem questions to find that out.

Motherhood: A Visual

Parenting

Saw this on some friends’ Facebook pages:

Let’s break this down by picture, shall we?

1. My friends who don’t have kids sometimes don’t understand why I want to stay home. But they have never, ever imagined that my home is a war zone. They know me and they know my kids.

2. My mother is no longer living. However, I am sure she would not have imagined me as a June Cleaver wannabe. She was a stay-at-home mom herself, so I’m sure she knows the realities. My mother-in-law, who is around the age my mother would have been, was not a stay-at-home mom. As far as I know, she doesn’t imagine me enjoying housework. Or wearing that to do it in.

3. I can guarantee with 100% certainty that my husband does not believe I watch television all day. I’m glad I married him.

4. What, exactly, does being a stay-at-home mom have to do with co-sleeping? I know plenty of families, with all sorts of work/stay home configurations, in which co-sleeping was part of parenting. I doubt that “society” associates the two. Also, those kids look pretty happy to me. If society thinks that staying home with the kids is one way to create a loving, happy family, then I’m not complaining.

5. I have no delusions of grandeur.

6. Aaaaand…nope. My days are, and always have been, a lot more boring than that. My eight-year-old multitasks better than I do. Huh, I guess according to that, he’s going to make one heck of a stay-at-home mom.

Score: Girl Scouts 1, Uptight People 0

Parenting Pride: What’s in Our Hearts?

Scooby-dooby-don’t!

What I Want My Kids to Know: You Are Safe

Who Knows You Best?

Motherhood: A Visual

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