What's Become Of Me?

I'm not sure why I've been reflecting on my middle-aged self lately. Maybe the mid-life crisis is starting (oh my wife will be so lucky!) or maybe it's just that I look back at my life so far and then look at my daughter, recognizing that she has all of that to go yet.

I look at her at the age of 2-1/2 and it boggles my mind that she will some day be in her 20s, out of the house and living on her own. Possibly in a different city than her parents or even a different country. Hopefully I'm the kind of parent who will encourage her to do all the things I should have done when I was younger. Like strap on a backpack and travel the world. The last thing I want to be is stifling to my kid the way my mother was to me. Her life should be about her, not me.

I suppose I have hopes that she'll be doing more with herself than I was in my 20s. Don't get me wrong, I had a ton of fun in those years and I think I really found myself. But I spent a lot of time chasing a career as a theatre artist that, let's face it, I was amazingly mediocre at and had no real business thinking that it was what I could do with my life. Despite some decent success in my college theatre days I really should have figured out a lot sooner that I was never going to succeed in it. Would have saved me a lot of disappointed feelings over the years.

So I do hope that my daughter doesn't end up chasing a dream all through her 20s that she's just going to give up a quit in her mid-30s. Hopefully she has a lot of her mother, the doctor, in her. Maybe just a touch of me so she's not only working hard all the time and is having some fun. 80% Mom, 20% Da would be a decent mix.

Of course, trying to guess how my daughter's life will turn out is about the same as trying to beat the house in Vegas. It ain't gonna happen. Hell, trying to figure out how my own life will turn out is impossible. So many stages of my life I never saw coming.

I ended up living in Seattle at the age of 23. When I was 22 I had no idea that would happen. Seriously, even a year earlier I didn't see that coming. Being married and having a kid is a complete shock to me. I never saw myself having a kid. Lots of parents are the types who have been dreaming about the day they'd have kids since they were kids themselves. I got excited about being a dad about, oh, maybe a week before my wife gave birth. (Honestly, I think this makes me a better parent, not having a lifetime of expectations about what raising kids would/should be like). Scared shitless is what I was feeling the rest of the time.

So many things I never saw coming, like giving lectures and workshops to medical school faculty in Taiwan. I never even imagined visiting Taiwan and it turned out to be one of my favorite places. Living in New York, being on a game show, talking to Peter Buck in a bar in NYC, meeting a random Buddhist guy from Australia in an Indian restaurant in Cambodia and having a full night of grand conversation, the same thing happening with a singer-songwriter from Manchester in a bar in NYC.......

Life really can be a series of unexpected curve balls. And that's a good thing. Better that then how much of my extended family has lived their lives - living in the same town where they were born, never seeing any other place in the world beyond the Midwestern United States.

I was trying to look at my life the other day through the eyes of the 25-year-old me. A weird exercise if ever there was one.

I was giddy when we found an apartment that was right across from the Whole Foods, which made it my favorite apartment ever. Sleeping late on Saturday means getting to stay in bed to all of 8:00 (at 25, 8:00am was fucking early). Having post-it notes all over a computer monitor at work to remind me of things to do. Actually having a job that involves a desk and a computer. I wear ties to work. Daycare. Diapers. Parent-teacher conferences (yes, we've already had one of these). Hanging around playgrounds.

It dawned on me that the 25-year-old me would think the 40-year-old me was a big old loser.

But what does that slacker hippy stoner know? That dumbshit thought that buying a $50 bong with his credit card (without having the money to pay the bill) was the coolest thing ever.

Parenting Oblivion

I'm riding the bus to work yesterday (one of the downsides of moving to Chicago from New York is that I actually have to be on the bus instead of the subway a lot) and a guy gets on the bus with his daughter, who appears to be about five or six. They sit across from me, the little girl with her backpack on looking cute as hell. She sits there in silence, I'm reading my book and not really paying attention to anything else.

Then I look up at some point and see that the dad is listening to his headphones.

After parents smacking their kids, this infuriates me more than just about anything I see parents do. I mean, come on! You're sitting there with your daughter and you escape in to your own little world and don't interact with her at all? I do not understand this type of parent at all. Why have kids if you don't want to talk to them?

Now this was a young father it seemed. And certainly looked to be someone who is probably a lot less well off than me. So there is a very good chance that this guy wasn't really planning on having kids at this point in his life, was just liking having sex with his girlfriend.

But still, it happened. You have a job to do now. A big job.

I'll bet if you ask this guy if he's doing the things he needs to be doing as a father he would probably say yes. The little girl was clean and well dressed. She didn't look hungry. He was getting her off to school. Her basic needs seem to be well taken care of.

But there is so much more to being a parent, and it drives me batty when I see parents that don't get that.

I never, ever put my headphones on when I'm out with my daughter. I can't believe that anybody even thinks that's OK. How could you not want to have conversations with your kid when you are riding on the bus or train?

I know that my kid already has an advantage over this guy's kid just based on the condition she was born in to. My wife makes great money and we're white in America. I know that it will be easier for us. But I think that's why it so much more important for this guy to take a bigger interest in his daughter. When parents are involved kids do better in school and in life. A lot of these parents will also be the ones bitching about the quality of the schools in their neighborhood, and that's a valid point. But what are they doing to help? Don't they think their involvement makes a difference in how their kid does in school, how well they learn? I have my doubts that the kind of parent who listens to music and ignores their own child on a bus is the kind of parent that shows up for parent-teacher conferences and PTA meetings.

Yes, we should all have equal advantages, it is not fair that my kid has a leg up on his from the moment she was born. But the answer is not to just say "fuck it" and put on the headphones.

And I think that's what these parents are doing when I see them. Just giving up. Instead of talking to this amazing little person that they created, helping them to engage in the world around them, they'd rather shut themselves off from that world.

And along with it, their own kid.

What I've Learned - Year 2

I've now been a father for over two years now and, as I did after the first year, I have some reflections on what I've learned. I actually accepted a job a few months ago, so I'm now a working parent instead of a stay-at-home dad. I'm not really sure if this affected my outlook and opinion of parenting or not. We shall see...

I'm pretty sure my wife and I are the only parents of a toddler who don't refer to ourselves in the third person. You know, stuff like, "Bring that apple to Daddy." I really expected I would start doing this even though it annoys the hell out of me, just because every parent I've ever seen does it. Thankfully I've never even felt the urge. We all hate anybody who refers to themselves in the third person in every other situation, why do we find it OK when parents do it? I really don't get why parents do this anyway. A one-year-old is perfectly capable of understanding the concept of me, my, you, yours, he, his, etc. At least mine is. Treat them stupid and they will be stupid, I say.

I think we are also the only parents that don't use cutesy names like PJs, blankey, boo-boo and the like. Another thing I don't understand about other parents.

Reading your kid the books you remember from your own childhood can be a double-edged sword as they may not be as awesome as you remember. Sure, those Richard Scarry books are just as cool as you remember. But when I read Curious George I got sick to my stomach. The man with the yellow hat is not George's "friend" as the books refer to him, he is his captor. He captured George as a baby and took him out of the jungle to the city. George is his monkey-slave. And this supposedly makes George happy? Evil, evil book. I can't believe our parents read that to us.

The original two Corduroy books, by Don Freeman (which were not a part of my childhood), are so fantastic I can hardly stand it. All the rest, written by different authors after Freeman died, are such complete pieces of shit I can hardly stand it.

After having been a stay-at-home parent and now being a working parent and can now say with certainty that being a stay-at-home is a lot easier. I know this isn't necessarily the most PC thing to say, but I've been on both sides. Let me just say this, my new job doesn't have a nap time.

I'm soooooooooo ready for the diaper years to be over. It's another one of those things that make me wonder why people have more than one kid. You want to extend the diaper years?

I laugh even more now than when I hung around sketch comedy actors/writers. And I hung around great sketch comedy people. Two-year-olds are fucking hilarious.

I'm so happy my daughter has decided to call me "Da" instead of "Daddy" or "Dad." I don't know why, maybe just because it is less common (outside of Ireland at least) and when I'm around a bunch of other parents I'll know if it's my kid calling me. Unless those kids at daycare start influencing her with that pedestrian "Daddy" stuff.

I'm so impressed when my kid does something new, like the first time she counted to three or when she made it all the way to ten. I know she's not like a super genius, smartest kid in the world or anything. But when you are hanging around a little human who can suddenly do something she couldn't do the day before it sure seems genius.

I know people call it the "terrible twos" (really a degrading thing to call a kid) but I like having a two-year-old so much more than a six-month-old.

CDs of popular or classical music that are rerecorded to be "for kids" are so utterly stupid. Just play Vivaldi for your kid, not the horribly simplistic and shallow version that Baby Einstein puts out. If you want to introduce your kids to The Beatles, then play them a Beatles record. What's the point of a lullaby version of The Beatles? To annoy everyone? These things seem to be more likely to make your kid a music hater.

You can raise your kid in a green(er) way. There are better options for diapers out there, you don't have to use chlorine-filled disposables. You also don't need to surround yourself with a house full of plastic shit. You have to lay down the law with your family and friends and risk offending/upsetting some of them, but you can avoid having nothing but plastic toys. When you ban plastic you get better quality toys anyway. We have also proven wrong all those people that said after we had a kid we would have to buy a car.

After being offered my job - I wasn't actually looking for a job when this all came up - I had less than a month to find a decent daycare for my daughter. I'm pretty sure I've never experienced a higher level of stress in my life.

I hear lots of parents say that raising a child is the hardest thing you'll ever do. I think these people have never done anything in their lives that is actually hard. Raising a kid is a cakewalk compared to just about anything else this side of being born an heiress.

I think I may have one of the most laid-back two-year-olds ever. Whenever she's starting to get testy and having a hissy, acting at her absolute worst, most other parents will react with, "Wait, that's her worst? Hell, that's nothing." So maybe it is just raising my kid that is so easy.

The most important thing I've learned is that I'm really goddamn good at this, being a parent. I know that seems smug and egotistical but I can't help it, I just am. I totally thought I was going to suck at being a parent. I feared it. But it turns out I am so awesome at it that I'm amazed by myself. Seriously, I have never been the most confident person about anything. I always questioned that I was a very good theatre director even when I was having success at it, and feel similar about what I do for a living now. But parenting? I'll go toe-to-toe with anybody. I try not be this way, I really do, because I know how annoying it makes me. But when I see most other parents in action I just can't help but think to myself, "What fucking morons."

Terrible, I know. I shouldn't be so mean toward other parents. I'm sure most of the ones I see are doing a perfectly acceptable job. Just not as good as me.

I really have never been as good at anything as I am at being a dad. I guess that's also why I know this isn't that hard. Because if I can be good at this...

Awake And Sit

I was talking to my sister last weekend about random things and, being parents, (my sister has two kids, both older than my daughter) we got to talking about child-raising.

I mentioned to her that my daughter still sits or stands in the bed, waiting for my wife or me to come get her, after she wakes up even though she's not in a crib anymore and can get out on her own anytime she wants. It has been several weeks since we switched to the toddler bed and I told my sister I couldn't figure out why she still waits for us instead of getting out of bed to come find us.

My sister said to me, "Don't question it. Just LOVE it."

Parenting 101

I was talking on the phone with my mother yesterday, something I generally try to avoid as much as I can because it is just never a good idea. But sometimes it has to be done.

Ever since I became a father she likes to try to have conversations about raising kids or sharing some sort of story from my childhood as an example of her good parenting skills. My mother and I have very disparate opinions of these supposed skills. But she thinks that we can bond over shared stories of child-rearing now that I have my own little offspring to screw up.

Yesterday she asked me about my daughter's sleep habits. She asked if we put her down in her crib to fall asleep on her own (we do), what time (7:30), how long she naps (1-2 hours), etc, blah, blah, blah. She then proceeds to tell me how she just let my siblings and I go to bed whenever we decided we wanted to go to bed. So when I was less than two-years-old I would stay up until 10:00 or 11:00 in the evening. She said this with an amazing sense of pride, like she was the cool mom who didn't run her kids' lives with a bunch of stiff rules or rigid structure. Right on dude.

What the fuck? Look, I know that back when my mother became a parent that there was a lot of bad information out there and a lot less research than there is today. But she let me go to bed whenever the hell I wanted? You've got to be kidding me. It doesn't take a goddamn rocket scientist to figure out that having a consistent bed time helps your kid develop good sleep habits, not to mention some decent sanity for the parents. I didn't need one of today's baby books to tell me that.

And this makes so much sense. I have some of the absolute worst sleep habits of anybody I know. I stay up to late, I sleep as late as I can (which of course isn't very late now with the kid) and I generally don't sleep enough, which is pretty unhealthy. I have an incredibly hard time making myself go to sleep at a decent hour. Would I have turned out differently had my mother maybe done a little bit better job of giving me a decent sleep structure? Well, maybe not. But we'll never know.

And for the record, I don't believe for a minute that her doing this was some choice based on a particular philosophy of parenting. My mother was not the "cool" or "laid back" parent in any way shape or form. She ruled the house with an iron fist, a big yardstick and fear. It is much more likely that she was too lazy and stupid to deal with getting a reluctant kid to go to bed, so she let it go.

This is surely one of the least horrible things my mother did (or didn't do) as a parent. But still, she couldn't even establish a fucking bedtime? Shit, I got whacked on the head for singing at the dinner table, she couldn't get me to bed at an appropriate time?

After we found out my wife was pregnant I thought a lot about parenting styles and philosophies and I came to a basic conclusion on what would make me a good parent. Just think of everything my mother did and do the exact opposite.

Lots of people I tell that to think it's a joke. But that thinking has served me well thus far.

I guess I did learn how to be a good parent from my idiot mother.

Some Days Remind You Why You Bred

Rushing to get to the Lake Street stop on the Red Line today, get through the gate and carry the stroller down the stairs only to see a northbound train pulling away.

SHIT!

The Chicago Transit Authority has had some major service cuts that went in to effect last month, so I know this is going to be a long wait. Off-peak hours were the worst hit, of course, and as a stay-at-home parent that's when I'm out and about. We had our kid's music class, the Wiggleworms, at the Old town School of Folk music today.

It's times like this I really, really, really, REALLY miss living in New York. I waited ten minutes for the next train, and when I transferred to the Brown Line after we emerged from the subway to the El I waited even longer than that. Seriously, a major city with a population of three million people, waiting that long for a metro in the middle of the day is (I really want to say inhumane but I know that's whiny and dramatic) really ridiculous.

After we got on the Brown Line train, which was crowded as hell, a couple gave up their seats in the handicapped area for my daughter and me. This was a first since I've been living here. For those of you not from Chicago, the wheelchair area is the only real spot in the tiny train cars they have here (another major reason to miss New York) whee you can have a stroller without blocking, well, everything. So it was really nice of them. And it was a young couple listening to an iPod together, so completely against stereotype.

Besides that one nice thing, I'm really frustrated and stressed. I'm worried we'll be late and the train is more crowded than it should be.

But since those nice people gave up their seat for me I can take my daughter out of her stroller and have her on my lap, in the seat next to me or standing on the seat looking out the window. Her choice, of course.

She stands and looks out the window. Every time another train goes by she points at it and squeals with delight. I don't know how to write it down other than she says, "Daaaeeeeeeeeeee" in a really high pitch. But that doesn't really do it justice.

Now, of course, this makes me happy on one level because I'm a big train geek. But I harbor no illusions that the fascination of a kid less than a year-and-a-half old will mature in to a shared hobby with Dad.

But we were having such a great time. I was laughing and other people around us were smiling, people she was saying "hi" to between trains. I was, as well as some of the other people on the train, seeing the world through her beautiful and wonderful eyes.

There are certainly times when I am really frazzled and need a damn break, which I took a few weeks ago when I escaped down to my old college town (thanks Honey!) to hang out with one of my oldest friends and basically stay drunk an entire weekend.

But most days I get this kind of reminder of just how lucky I am to get to hang out with my kid every day.

And I think it makes me just a little bit less of the ass hole that I'm pretty sure I am.

Sling This

There was a really annoying article in the New York Times last week. One of those articles that you can't fathom why it made it in to the New York Times. One of the real writers (as compared to me, a pretend one) over at the Dad Wagon blog touched on how annoying this was, too.

Basically, the NYT thought it a good way to use their time to write an article about the "new trend" of using baby carriers instead of strollers. There are a few quotes of hippy-dippy parents bashing strollers, calling them "isolation pods" and trumping up stats about "babywearing" making your kid "smarter, calmer, more attentive, less colicky and more likely to develop healthy sleep habits than their counterparts in strollers."

Bullshit.

No study is cited in that claim of course, because it is one of those claims that only has activist-based pseudo-science behind it, similar to the thoroughly debunked claim about breastfeeding leading to higher IQs.

Look, I get the hating stroller thing, I really do. I hate mine. I want to lose this thing so damn bad and can't wait for us to not have to use it anymore. When I was childless I wanted to kick the damn mothers and nannies in my neighborhood taking up the whole sidewalk, walking side-by-side and not giving any room for other people, totally willing to use their kid to run you off the sidewalk. I think I do a really good job not being that parent.

And really, it is a big pain in the ass to take everywhere. Now that the weather is getting warmer I'm excited about really trying out my new (well, used - found on Craigslist) backpack carrier as much as I can. I'm hoping it works out so we can leave the stroller at home when we go to Europe this summer.

But there was one question I thought needed to be asked of all these babywearing parents. A lot of these mothers live in places like Queens, Brooklyn and the Upper East Side (the store highlighted in the article is on Park Ave.). I noticed from my time living in New York that middle class and upper-middle class people from these neighborhoods, even though it is New York City, tend to also have cars that they use to do things like grocery shopping and buying their expensive piece-of-shit pressboard furniture at IKEA.

So what I wanted to hear from these parents is how much time their kids spend strapped to a car seat. I really want to know, because how is a stroller worse than that? I argue that a stroller is better than a car seat any day.

The thing is, we don't do the car thing. That's something I'm very proud of, and I haven't owned a car since 1992. So wearing my daughter to go grocery shopping is not really an option because I wouldn't be able to get our food home without having her in the stroller.

And I think I get to spend a lot of quality time with her because of this. Ever since she was really small I have always taken her out of her carrier (yes, for the first few months I used a front carrier) or stroller after we've gotten on the subway or bus. She spends her time on an outing looking out the window, waving at people, playing with me or maybe reading a book with me. She is usually in my lap, sitting in the seat next to me or standing on the seat pointing at stuff out the window. And boy does she make friends on the train or bus. She loves to interact with people.

What does a kid in a car seat do? How much quality time is a parent spending with their kid when there are not even sitting beside each other?

And my kid is a lot safer being in a stroller than in a car. Except for the occasional cab ride or short trip from the train station to Grandma's house, she is almost never in a car seat. I'd guess that she has spent less than a total of six hours in cars in her almost one-year-and-five-months being alive.

When I'm out with my daughter we are constantly interacting with each other and I'm always paying her a lot of attention. I see a lot of parents carrying their kids in a sling or wrap and they are talking on their cell phone or texting. I never get on my cell when I'm out with my daughter. I don't care how tightly wrapped you are to your kid, if you're jabbing to your friends you ain't bonding with baby.

I get why parents do some of the stuff we do. I've gone out of my way to keep the amount of plastic crap we have around to a minimum. We have a lot of natural wood toys; blocks, little toy cars, a baby pram, one of those push-mower looking things. We even have real Lincoln Logs, not those shitty plastic ones that came out in later years. We just spent a hell of a lot of money to order her a riding toy made of natural wood and using soy-based paints so we wouldn't have to have one made of plastic that also doubles as a cross-promotion for some movie or TV show.

So I get trying to do the best thing possible for your kid. Hell, I cook all the time now. And I really don't like to cook. But I know I need to make her as nutritious as meals as I can and also set a good example.

But to say I'm not bonding with my child as well as I could because she's in a stroller? Nonsense.

Why is it these people seem to think that this is the only time you can bond with your child, when you are out running errands or going to a play date? What the hell are you doing with your kid when you're not in transit? Plopping them down in front of the TV?

Fact is, if you are spending time with your kid there is a lot of bonding and contact time available. It doesn't always have to be about bonding when you are going from point A to point B.

All these claims about the benefits of 24/7 contact with your child are being pushed, without real good evidence, by the loony tune practitioners of "attachment parenting" - one of my favorite kinds of parents to hate, right up there with fundamentalist home schoolers.

And as for those claims, I'll say this: We didn't use a carrier for very long, we didn't do co-sleeping and my very accomplished physician/researcher wife with the hectic schedule did not do any direct breast feeding (GASP! The Horror!).

The result? Our daughter has had two colds, never once was she colicky, is a very calm kid who never screams or has tantrums, is incredibly observant (surprises me all the time how much so), very attentive, sleeps through the night, transitioned to going to sleep on her own with no problem and I think (and I am of course biased) is an amazingly smart kid.

And bonding? Well, match me up against any other parent, attachment or otherwise, to measure our level of bonding and I'll take that challenge anytime, anywhere, from anybody. I'd never claim to be the perfect parent whose always made the right decision, but the connection and love between my daughter and me I have no doubts about. I cannot even fathom it being any stronger. It's clear to me that she knows I'm there for her, will give her what she needs and will protect her. It's so obvious she knows that.

And I'll bet my kid will turn out a lot better in the head than the ones who are still breast feeding when they're six or seven, as some of those crazy attachment types think is a good idea. I'm very proud of myself so far and I've exceeded what I thought I was capable of as a parent about a million-fold, especially considering I went from being a guy who didn't want to have kids to a stay-at-home dad in a relatively short time. I figured by almost a year-and-a-half any kid of mine would already be in therapy.

Now I know one kid is not a scientific study, and I'm making no claims that this is any kind of proof my parenting style is the best. But everything that they say is better if you do it their way has gone perfect in my kid. Every. Single. One.

Those parents like to trump up the supposed benefits of that type of parenting, including the carriers and co-sleeping, but they are mostly crap with no basis in real scholarship. Studies about these things are poorly constructed and incredibly far from conclusive at best. At their worst they're nothing but junk science at the same level as the claims of autism being cause by vaccines.

And really, a lot of this stuff is just a silly middle-class WASP interpretation of how "tribal" cultures raise children.

The goal of these parents seems to be to make other parents feel bad or guilty about what they're doing. And I guess in the sick and demented mind of an attachment parent that makes them feel like better, superior parents.

They can kiss my stroller-pushing ass.

Two Fathers On A Bus

I thought about a story from living in New York that I thought I'd share.

I was on the bus one day with my daughter in the front baby-carrier, she must have been about three months old or less at this point, I know my wife was back at work but we didn't yet have the stroller that we got when she was about three-and-a-half months old. I was just getting the hang of this stay-at-home dad (part time at this point) thing.

I was sitting near the back of the bus in the sideways facing seats and had taken the baby out of the carrier to sit on my lap because she liked being able to look at people. A guy got on the bus and made his way back to the open seat across from us. He was a really tall guy - at least 6'6" or 6'7" - probably in his mid-60s with a salt and pepper beard wearing all red. Really, everything he had on was red. His pants, shoes, shirt and socks were all red. He also had on a long red overcoat that went all the way down to below his knees. To top off the whole look he had a beautiful dark wood, hand-carved cane. Really a classic "only in New York" kind of character.

He sat directly across form my daughter and me and she started smiling at him like crazy. He smiled back and waved at her and was really cool to her. We started chatting and he asked me how old she was and I told him, "About three months."

He then said, "I've got two sons myself."
"How old are they?" I asked.
He answered, "Well, my oldest is 46."

Pause for a beat or two, then I said:

"Well, that's a fun age."

He tilted his back and just started laughing and laughing.

I miss New York.

What I've Learned

So I've been a father for over a full year now and I've been thinking about what I've learned as a parent in that time. So here are a few random thoughts.

Nursery rhymes are a lot like action movies, about 95% of them suck horribly (like movies with Bruce Willis or Sly Stallone), but the 5% that are awesome (like the Bourne movies) you absolutely cherish that they exist.

Becoming a parent does not fundamentally "change" a person. I've heard so many people say this over the years and I found it to be a crock of shit. Breeding did not change my outlook on the world. This view that so many people have goes on the assumption that they wouldn't have become that person without having a kid and that is a specious one. I'm still the leftist, freethinking Humanist that I've always been and I'm sure my crazy brother would have still become an intolerable, right-wing, born-again, Jesus freak fundamentalist whether he had kids or not. Maybe it would have happened later, but I'm sure he'd still be that big of an asshole.

A new parent gets lots of unsolicited advice from "experienced" parents and almost all of it is completely worthless. Just because someone knows how to raise their kids does not mean they know how to raise my kid. Something to be sure to remind myself when I'm the older parent.

Most baby-care books are also full of shit and a complete waste of time. I have an especially strong hatred for the "What to Expect..." line of books. Sweeping generalizations (e.g., pacifiers are evil) not backed up by any real scientific study or any scholarship whatsoever. Basically some hippy mom thinking she knows how to teach everyone else to be a parent. Not worth the paper it's printed on, and to so many people it is their baby bible.

The stuff I worried about being hard before she was born (like changing diapers or bathing) turned out to be a piece of cake, and the things I didn't even think about (like nail clipping or planning meals once the nursing/formula/baby food days are over) turned out to be the real challenging things.

Going to the bathroom while holding a baby is a lot easier than one would think. Showering, not so much.

They say that having a kid will make you appreciate your own parents. This isn't really true if you were raised by a shitty parent. In fact, I think having a kid has made me realize even more how awful my mother was at raising kids. No matter how frazzled I've gotten, how frustrated or even angry, I have still been able to resist shaking or hitting my daughter. I step back, breathe, and remember she's just doing what kids do. My mother's inability to do the same as I was growing up, instead choosing to use the yardstick, broom, fly-swatter or bare hands to knock me silly looks even more insane to me with my new view.

Even though it is 2009, I've found that in many places a stay-at-home dad is still viewed with a fairly large amount of suspicion or weird curiosity. I'm treated great in many other situations, but I have to seek out the right groups.

I find that even though I have one now, I still don't generally like kids. Especially large groups of them. Play dates and birthday parties are going to be torture when my daughter is older, but I will have to endure for her sake. But when we start hosting sleepovers I'm going to make sure Mom gets put in charge.

I also don't really like hanging out with most other parents. I'd much rather hang out with friends of mine who have also become parents, and that was working out great in New York since my best friend became a dad the same time as me. But now that we're in Chicago none of my friends here have kids, at least yet. It's hard to know if a person was cool or not before they had kids if you don't meet them until they've already had them.

I will do anything, no matter how stupid I look, and in public, to make my kid laugh.

I think referring to raising children as the most important thing a person can do is utter nonsense. Hey, it might turn out to be the most important thing I will ever do (but I hope not). But, was raising children the most important thing Martin Luther Kink, Jr. ever did? Jonas Salk? I don't think so. There are many things a person can do in the world that are more important than raising your own kids.

You cannot describe your love for your kid to someone ho doesn't have one. You just can't. So I don't even try.

Having a kid has not made me want to have more, as so many people told me would happen. (Seems that people say the same thing about having kids that they say about tattoos, once you have one you want more). I'm loving every minute of every new experience I'm going through with my daughter, but I have no need to repeat it. Once is totally enough.

The baby supply business is such a racket it's ridiculous. There is so much shit they convince new, unwitting parents that they need to have when they really don't. The "safety" stuff is a really big one, preying on parents' fears. I'm convinced that baby monitors just cause parents to lose sleep and have never saved a kid's life. Now they even have these sensors that go under the baby's mattress and an alarm goes off if the they stop moving for several seconds. An extremely expensive way to get sleep deprivation.

If I hugged my daughter as I hard as I feel like I want to sometimes, it would kill her and her guts would be all over the floor. Maybe that's as close as I can come to explaining the level of love thing.

I can have my kid dressed in twelve layers on a moderately cold day and there will still be an old lady who tells I don't have her dressed warm enough.

I wish it wasn't against the law to punch old ladies in the face.

My kid is the cutest kid on the planet. If you think differently you are obviously a dumbass.

Monday Hate

Time for another instalment of my Monday bitch session...

Jenny McCarthy, Jim Carry and every other one of the "vaccines cause autism" loons. Fuck these people are annoying. It actually pains me somewhat to put Jim Carry on this list. I've always respected his using his fame to speak out for freedom for Aung Sun Suu Kyi and the people of Burma. I could always overlook his rich-person new-agey mysticism because it seemed to at least make him try to do good. But apparently sticking your dick in Jenny McCarthy makes you stupid.

And what the fuck is with people listening to Jenny McCarthy? A fringe movement full of crazy people suddenly gets credibility because they are now represented by someone who used to give some guys boners about 15 years ago? What, every current media producer had a Playboy subscription in the 90s?

There has never, ever been a scientific study (and there have been tons done) that has shown a link between vaccines and autism. None. Ever. The people who are selling this idea, that the greatest gift modern medicine has ever given the human race is actually giving your children autism, are either snake-oil salesmen or amazingly paranoid fools who need psychiatric help. With McCarthy it can be hard to tell, since she seems so brain-dead. But I have to go with snake-oil salesman since she sells a lot of books promoting her nutso ideas. She now purports to have "cured" her son of autism with nutrition and vitamins. Right. I doubt her son ever had autism to begin with.

The believers in this movement are of the same anti-intellectual, anti-science and unreasonable thought as the 9/11 truth freaks, those who believe Obama was born in Kenya and the people ho believe the moon landing as faked. They need help, seriously.

And if they are parents they need to have their children taken away from them. Like now.

And...

The media, for giving these crazy people a platform that gives them credibility.

Especially Oprah, because Dr. Phil is also her fault.

Freethinker's Letter On Religion To His Born-Again Family

Several months ago I wrote a letter to my family, attempting to clear the air and come to something of an understanding with my born-again family members, after some heated exchanges with my brother and other incidents over the years that showed a complete disregard for my right to my beliefs.

It is somewhat long, over 7 pages on Word, but I think it is a decent attempt to communicate with unreasonable and dogmatic about what I believe and don't believe.

This letter was met with either pretending that it never happened or a silence by some members of the family that includes not talking to me anymore.

I offer it up for others looking for ways to deal with religious family members.

I think it may be one of the best things I've ever written, probably because my wife acted as my editor and co-writer. Looking it over again months later I'm still very pleased with this, and the only thing I think I would have changed is my preference for what I consider myself. I should have added Freethinker to the list that included Naturalist and Humanist.

I've copied it here just as it was when I sent it.

I replaced all of the names in the letter with their relationship to me in parentheses.

----------------------------------------------


Dear family,

I feel that this letter has become necessary, after recent exchanges with my brother, among others, on the topic of religion. I believe it is time to address some issues and lay down some ground rules, for everyone's sake. Though, admittedly, I am more concerned about my sake.

I have sent this letter to Mom, (brother) & (sister-in-law), (step dad) & (step dad’s current wife), and (sister) & (brother-in-law). None of this is addressed to (sister) and (brother-in-law) but they will undoubtedly hear about it anyway, so I want them to see what I write here and not hear it secondhand, with someone else's interpretation of my meaning and intent.

This is to the followers of Christ in my family.

There seems to be some misunderstanding of my belief or at the very least a major disregard of it. In (brother)'s email to me he wrote that "At some point in life, most people begin to give mature consideration to some spiritual aspect of our earthly life (i.e. “is this all there is?”), meaning that he has done this and condescendingly implying that I have not. This preaching email also came at the end of a couple of exchanges after I explicitly told him to stop sending me proselytizing messages, though admittedly I told him in a less polite way than I should have handled it.

The only evidence he has of my lack of "mature consideration" of spiritual life is that I don't believe what he believes, and I get the impression from others of you by your words and actions that you think the same thing about me. (By the way (brother), your accusation that I am angry at you and your family is way off base. I was angry with you alone; this has nothing to do with your family.)

Let me please dispel this notion, as nothing could be further from the truth. While I do not have a "faith," my absence of such does not mean I am some wandering soul walking around waiting for someone to show me the answers. I went on my spiritual journey many years ago in my twenties. I've read the bible, cover to cover. I've read and pondered lots of other things as well, including many writings that support the idea of Christianity.

In the end my answer was, "no thanks." To all of it: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Scientology, etc. Even Buddhism, which I find to be a very beautiful, wonderful and fascinating religion in so many ways. But still, no.

But my belief is not an absence of belief as many of you assume. I believe in science. I believe in logic and reason. I believe in intellectual thought. I believe in the awesome wonders of the natural world and evolution. These things give me the answers I need - how we got here, how the world and universe around me works, what place I want to make for myself in it. I feel so lucky when I think about the time I live in, when there are so many things we know about biology, astronomy, physics, etc; compared to living in a time when the only place people could look for answers was their mythology. This gave them a lot of false answers, such as the earth being the center of the universe and the sun revolving around us rather than the other way around.

As for the BIG question my brother mentioned, "Is this all there is?" Well, probably. Maybe. I don't really know, but neither do any of you. The difference is that I'm not claiming to know the answer, and I certainly don't think a single book with suspect origins has the answers.

I suppose you wonder what this makes me or what I call myself. Well, I don't really think titles are that important, though I am very fond of referring to myself as a godless liberal like my red t-shirt exclaims. I'm not real fond of the title atheist. As Julia Sweeney mentioned in her one-woman show Letting Go of God, that term suggests that theism is normal so an atheist would be askew of what is normal. And I reject that notion. I'd say naturalist fits much better. Humanist is also something (Wife) and I consider ourselves, which also makes me happy because Bill O'Reilly hates us secular humanists more than just about anybody. And if Bill-O hates me, I know I'm doing something right.

The point is that I won't be swayed by any proselytizing, no matter how in my face or how subtle you think you are about it. I rejected the idea of Jesus a long time ago, when I realized how ridiculously fantastic the Christ story was and when I found out that the very same story exists in more ancient texts from well before the time Jesus was supposed to walk the earth. The name Jesus was applied to an old, already existing story and a religion was born.

And I certainly have rejected that book that condones slavery (read the passage right after Moses comes down with the commandments from god, he then immediately lists god's rules for buying and selling slaves and selling your children) and polygamy. There are lots of other things like that, and I just don't see how you can overlook those few but critical things but accept the rest of it as the "word of god."

So no matter how much praying you do for me or preaching you do towards me, I will never, ever accept Christ or any other deity as my saviour or become a religious person. I will be a non-believer to my death. I know this for a fact.

Besides, none of you would really be happy if I did become religious because I would end up becoming a Buddhist over anything else that's out there. And I'm sure in your belief that Buddhists are also going to hell.

So I'm asking you all to stop. In fact, I'm demanding it. The not-so-subtle ways that god gets thrown into conversations about topics as ordinary as a root canal is very frustrating for those of us who wish to have our lives free of religion.

And please don't try and tell me you don't do it. I'll give some examples of what I'm talking about.

Every Christmas, (Wife) and I receive cards from more than one of you that will have a long letter that begins and ends with the extolling of "his (with a capital h)" name and the glory of celebrating the birth of Christ as the son of god, and other non-stop preaching the glory of his name and what not. Even if there is no long letter, it is not uncommon for us to receive cards throughout the year with heavy religious/Christ messages. I do wonder if you all send these kinds of cards about Christ to any Jewish friends you might have? Wouldn't that be insensitive and rude? Why isn't it for us?

Mom, while I was talking on the phone with you prior to my daughter being born you laid into a big prediction about how you know I don't believe now, but when I look into my baby's eyes I was going to know that god touched my heart. Well, you were wrong. I looked into my amazing daughter’s eyes and I thought about the wonders of biology and the natural world. But it was also a really inappropriate thing to say to me. You have been the person I've asked the most to keep your religion out of my life. Yet you continue to sprinkle it in where you can, telling me on the phone that god is watching over me, or over you when something good happens. Or saying that you are praying for me.

I suspect, (step dad) and (step dad’s current wife), that you were encouraging your fellow church members to friend me on Facebook, to get more Christian influence on me or something. And when I still lived in Chicago you would invite me to see a show at your church that would be a hard-core religious song and dance show.

All of you have sent me emails with major religious messages or included religious-speak in normal emails, with tons of thanking him (with a capital h again) and praising him many times.

Why anyone thinks these tactics will work is beyond me. Would anyone be able to convince you to praise Allah if they bombarded you with Islamic propaganda?

And remember, while all of you think this is OK (preaching to me and my family, praying for us to turn your way), look what happened at (sister)'s when we were all there and I honestly answered a simple question from my niece. She noticed I wasn't praying and asked me why. I told her it was because I didn't believe in it and she followed up by asking if I didn't believe in god. Again I was honest, only answering very basically about myself and not trying to tell her I was right, only that I didn't believe in religion and that there are a lot of people who don't. Following the rules of your own religion I refused to lie to her about who I am.

Well, what happened? (Sister-in-law), (brother) and Mom all went ballistic, acting as if I had just thrown her a pack of smokes and a bottle of Scotch and said, "Have fun with those (niece)."

This blew up into a really frustrating conversation where (sister-in-law) confirmed to me that my nieces and nephew are being taught that I'm going to hell and my brother proclaiming that what he believes is "The Truth."

Well it's not The Truth. It's your truth, but it's not The Truth. It certainly is not my truth. It is not the truth to the billions of other decent people out there in the world who believe in Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, or something else.

The saddest part about that whole episode, to me at least, is that (niece) now looks at me completely differently and appears almost fearful, either of me or for me. It could have been a teaching moment for a young girl to learn that there are lots of people in the world who are different from her and who believe different things. Instead, (brother) proclaimed that "we're working on him" in reference to getting me to come around to Jesus. So now my niece is uneasy around her "unsaved" uncle.

And I think reasonable people can agree that what you believe has a lot to do with when and where you were born. If we were all born in India I would be arguing with a few of the billion devout Hindus. But at least you would all be vegetarians like me.

(By the way, as an analogy, I have never preached my vegetarianism to any of you. I guarantee you that it is as important to me as your religion, but I ask only for a little accommodation when we are all together so I can have some options for food. (Brother) will refuse to accommodate me every chance he gets. When we were at Dad's a couple years ago, he insisted on going to a rib joint one night, where I had the wonderful choice of a baked potato for dinner. At (sister)'s he insisted on Chik-Fil-A. Not once has he ever given any thought to my dietary restrictions – it is always about what he wants. It's not uncommon for him to mock my vegetarian values. That's a good Christian?)

So where to go from here?

Well, it does all depend on what kind of a relationship you want with (Wife), (Daughter) and myself. If we are all going to move forward with any relationship at all, there have to be some ground rules. These will be non-negotiable, because I will no longer allow the intrusion of religion into my life, whether it is from the guy on the street trying to shove a pamphlet in my hands, the guy in Times Square trying to give me a Scientology "stress test" or my family.

First, the religious cards, letters and emails have to stop. Like the email (brother) sent out the other day about his leg, none of the religion was necessary in showing me pictures of his leg in a cast and telling the story of the accident. I am sorry about my short-tempered response to it that night, but hopefully this letter will give us a mechanism to make sure that no longer happens.

I realize that many of you are involved in churches that encourage you to be "bearing witness" or "testifying" all the time to your friends and family, so this could be a hard decision. But really, I'm never going to convert, so you wouldn't be risking losing me. I'm already lost to that world.

The same thing applies to talking on the phone. Please don't tell me that god is watching out for me or my wife or child. And don't tell me you're praying for me – that is pointless anyway.

Speaking of praying....

We need to come to an understanding about the rules of praying when we are together. I absolutely would never infringe on your right to pray, especially in your home. I have always respected that and kept quiet while you all prayed before a meal. I would ask that maybe I could be given a little warning so that I could do even better and leave the room for the praying. This actually becomes even more crucial with (Daughter) around. (Daughter) will learn about all the world’s religions, and she’ll hopefully even have the opportunity to observe different religious rituals and holidays around the world. However, she will never be taught, encouraged, or forced to pray, and I would prefer to not have her there when all the other kids are praying so that she doesn’t feel compelled to do this herself. I'm trying to keep her protected from indoctrination.

I would then also ask that in our home there be no out-loud praying. I think it is inappropriate that you do it at (sister)'s and (brother-in-law)'s without asking if it is OK, but obviously that's their call and not mine.

What about praying in public? You cannot expect to have those of us in the group who are non-believers stop what we are doing when you are praying in a public restaurant. In Waterloo back in May, we had that large table in the loud restaurant and (brother), (sister-in-law) and mom got all the kids to pray when the food started coming. We were at a very large table surrounded by tables full of talking patrons, and I was at the very end of the table. I continued to have my very pleasant conversation with (brother-in-law) while the praying was going on. I hadn't seen the guy in a while and I really like talking to (brother-in-law). Suddenly I was shushed by my mother (and my response was "don't shush me!") like I was a 14-year-old in church. I'm sorry, but you cannot expect the rest of us to stop what we are doing when you decide to pray in public.

Please stop praying for me. Stop praying for my wife. Stop praying for my daughter. Stop having your friends, congregations, pastors and whoever else pray for us. Our "souls" are none of your concern. Praying for us is insulting, rude and amazingly insensitive to our rights of religious freedom, ours being the freedom FROM religion. I know that I can't control what you are doing when I am not around. At the very least, though, stop telling me you are praying for me or us. But really, stop praying for us. I promise you it won't work.

And now there is the subject of Christmas. It is obvious that there are two different views of Christmas in America. There are those of us who celebrate it as a cultural event (which is its true origin, a winter solstice celebration that Pope Julius I stole from the Pagans and made a celebration of Jesus in the 4th century) and those of you for whom it is a solemn holy day in your faith. This is what makes you send out all those über-religious cards and letters praising Jesus.

Because we are literally celebrating two different things, a cultural event vs. a religious holiday, we shouldn't celebrate them with each other.

So I have decided that we will no longer celebrate Christmas with a good number of my side of the family. So we will no longer send or receive Christmas gifts or cards from Mom, (brother) & (sister-in-law)'s family and (step dad) & (step dad’s current wife).

We will still exchange gifts with (sister) and (brother-in-law) and their kids, because they view the holiday the same as we do (except we're not doing the Santa thing, we'll try to tell (Daughter) to keep her mouth shut about that Sis, until (nephew)'s older).

We'll also still celebrate with Dad and the religious members of (Wife)’s family since, as typical good American Catholics, they keep their religion to themselves.

I hope that this has clarified my side of things somewhat. I believe that the only way we'll be able to have a relationship going forward is by following these guidelines.

Let me be clear, though. I am not asking you, as seems to be expected of me, to deny who you are. If the topic arises, there is nothing wrong with telling (Daughter) that you are a Christian. I will not treat you with the same kind of anger I was treated with when I answered (niece)’s questions honestly. I don't want anyone to lie.

The line gets crossed when you tell her that Jesus is the son of god and died for her sins and that he loves her, or that god is everywhere, or telling her that sinners go to hell, good people go to heaven or any other such dogma. This would include giving her any gifts that promote such an agenda, from a "Jesus loves me" doll or shirt to a Veggie Tales DVD.

(Daughter) will learn what religion is, to be sure. She will learn about many of them, as we plan to take her around the world to see how others live, worship and socialize. But she will learn it in a context and a perspective of mine and (Wife)'s choosing. We will not allow her to be taught dogma.

I hope that this will help us come to an understanding. In this family we are not known for our respect of one another's differing views, it's not in our DNA. But hopefully we can at least respect each other’s space.

We will need to if we are going to have any relationship at all going forward. I think this could help reduce the amount of insults and yelling that gets tossed around during disagreements in this family, something that IS in our DNA without a doubt. I am as guilty of this as anyone and I'm trying to be a different person than that. Not having religion tossed in my face at every turn will help.

If you feel like you can't have a relationship with me based on what I laid out above, that your religion requires you to continue to try to convert me or testify to me, then that's your decision.

I will not respond with my usual ways of lashing out at your beliefs and criticizing the ridiculousness I see in them.

We just won't be able to have a relationship at all. And I certainly will not allow you to be around my daughter.

This is not meant as a threat or a punishment. It is just what would need to happen.

Hopefully I have made a sensible case for this, using the things I wholly believe in, reason and logic, and you understand where I am coming from.

If you are at all interested in why I believe what I believe, here are some suggested readings, all books I found to be more insightful than the book you live your life by:

The End of Faith by Sam Harris
The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
God is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens

...and my newest personal favorites are both by a fantastic author named Susan Jacoby:

The Age of American Unreason (Concerning the recent history of anti-intellectualism in America and the trend toward irrational thought.)

And

Freethinkers, A History of American Secularism (A wonderful book about the true story of the secular founding of this country and the great things secularism has done in our nation)

Another great thing to see is Julia Sweeney's new one-woman show, available on CD and DVD, called Letting Go of God, which is the story of her spiritual journey. It is not dissimilar to my journey to the same conclusion she comes to. Hers is funnier, though.

Thank you for taking the time to read this extremely long letter. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from and that it's not from a place of anger or hatred.


Love,

Deni, (Wife) and (Daughter)

Monday Hate

Getting to the blog late tonight, but I'm sure I can quickly think of something that's annoying me right now. I think it is going to be a child-rearing related week. So let's get to the hate.

Here's one that's been happening a lot lately.

Mr. Mom. No, I don't mind the 80s movie with Michael Keaton. I seem to remember liking it OK, though I haven't seen it in over twenty years so it might be as bad as I discovered Pretty In Pink is on a more recent viewing. No, it is the reference to Mr. Mom that keeps coming up recently. As I've been talking about our upcoming move, mentioning that I probably won't be going back to work and will instead be home with the kid full time, so many people have said something like, "Cool, playing Mr. Mom for a while, huh?"

Ugh. People seriously, what century is this? Yes, I know that it is still way too often the mother that stays home with the kids, even in this day and age. But let's at least stop assuming that taking care of the kids is automatically the woman's job and that when the man does it he is the male mother and not just the dad staying home with the kid. No milk is coming out of these boobs no matter how hard I try, so I'm definitely not a mom.

I can't believe people don't see it as sexist as it seems to me. What you are really doing is calling my wife "Mrs. Dad" because she's got a successful career. And we all agree that that is an ass-hole thing to call a woman, right?

And the other phrase I hear really often these days....

"They grow up so fast." Uhmmm....no. I'm pretty sure kids age at the same rate as the rest of us, barring them having progeria. So my daughter is not growing up so fast, she is growing just right.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Man it has been a long time since I've written anything. Sorry about that, I've just been crazy busy lately, what with the kid and setting up my new Facebook page. Facebook is really frightening and exciting all at the same time. And overwhelming as hell when you start seeing all the friends rolling in. It really is like crack on a computer.

I also didn't get all of my holiday wish list posts done that I wanted, never getting around to letting you know what books you could buy me. I guess I'll have to let you know around my birthday (Hint - I still don't have the new Sarah Vowell)

But that's not why I'm here today. I'm here to finally write a blog in 2009.

I'm not a fan of New Year's resolutions. As silly as religion, astrology and fortune cookies if you ask me. Why do people wait until the turning of an arbitrary date on the calendar to decide to quit smoking, lose weight, watch less TV, yada, yada, yada...? Decide you want to change and fucking do it already. Thinking you'll be more successful because it is a fresh, spanking new year is just delusional.

That being said....

There are a few things I've been thinking about lately that I've been wanting to do or change. It doesn't have anything to do with the new year, but I suppose the extra feeling of resolve about them lately has a lot to do with having a daughter 2-1/2 months ago. So these are mostly things I've been wanting to do for a while but really need to get off my ass now and do them.

In no particular order.

Watch less TV. I know this is an obvious one, just about everyone I know watches too much TV. But now it is getting worse, I'm a stay-at-home-dad right now and it is hard to read a book while feeding the baby but really easy to watch the House marathons on USA.

Speaking of reading...

Read more fiction. I do love to read, I really do. But I am so drawn to nonfiction and I just don't spend enough time in the fiction section. I have so many friends that find such joy in reading the likes of John Updike. Most of my happy friends are the ones who read a lot of fiction. My last few books, on the other hand, have been the autobiography of the strange life of a man called E, Susan Jacoby's brilliant condemnation of anti intellectualism in America, Christopher Hitchen's bashing of Mother Teresa and Sam Harris' anti-religion book.

I just picked up another Susan Jacoby book, Freethinkers, and I'm forcing myself to not pick it up until I've finished reading my paperback copy of Graham Greene's The Quiet American that I bought from a guy with no hands in Vietnam over a year ago. (I'm about a quarter of the way through and I'm really enjoying it)

Learn to play guitar AND speak another language. These are my two biggest goals over the next couple of years. I really want to be able to impress upon my daughter the joy of music, communication and multiculturalism. And I don't want to be the dopey parent. I'm married to a woman who is an accomplished physician, plays the flute and speaks German. So I better step it up real quick.

I've already started on the guitar. My friend Chris, a genius guitar player, has given me a lesson and a practice instruction sheet to use. It's hard to find the time to practice. The other day I was planning to but I was taking care of the kid all day, then my wife came home and we had to go to the store. Then I had some beer I needed to drink. You can see the problem.

At some point I'm going to find a class or maybe check out that Rosetta Stone thing to start learning how to speak Italian.

I know that choosing to learn Italian when I live in America is probably about as practical as owning a bikini store in Siberia. But Spanish just seems so boring and I love Italy.

Travel more. I know, I know. What the hell right does a guy who's been lucky enough to go to Asia twice in the last year or so have to pine for more traveling? But man, there is nothing as good as traveling. And there is never enough of it.

Late Monday Hate - New Parent Edition

So since I became a father it is impossible to get anything done on time. I'm thinking that my Monday hate postings will kind of come on whatever day I can get to it. And since we're in a parent mode, why don't we list the things I'm hating about child-rearing?

First off, parenting books. I've seen a bunch of these things now and I've come to the conclusion that they are all full of shit. Most of them seem to be selling one agenda or another and all they succeed in doing is making parents over think everything. None of the things you are told to do in these books are backed up by any real scientific study, they will just make broad claims as fact.

Like, there are some that make it sound like child abuse if you give your baby a pacifier. They tell you that you kid will never learn to suck her thumb and ruin any chance she has of getting in to Harvard. They don't actually back their claims up with any actual facts, you are just supposed to take it at face value because they are the "best selling" parenting book out there. What's really going on is the breast feeding hippy-Nazi's going all freaky about putting anything in a baby's mouth besides mom's nipple and maybe a twig off a hemp plant because there will be "nipple confusion." I've figured out that nipple confusion is as big of a myth as the lost city of Atlantis and compassionate conservatism. I've heard a lot about how it "can" happen, but no instances of it actually happening. And the people who have a problem with pacifiers are the same ones who think it's perfectly OK and normal to breast feed your kid until she's in junior high.

Baby cries, baby is given pacifier, baby stops crying. It's all good. And my kid knows how to suck her hand with no problem and can tell the difference between the nipple with the food and the one without in about a millisecond.

Throw the books away and just ask your pediatrician for advice. The kid will give you a pretty good idea what to do, too.

Speaking of pacifiers...

I hate the cutesy alternative language people make up for kids. Why the fuck can't we call things what they are just because a child is involved? What the hell is a binky? That doesn't mean anything. Pacifier is really appropriately named thing, why do parents insist on renaming it to something so meaningless? It's not a onesie, it's called a bodysuit.

There's also the putting of a Y on the end of words to make them sound more kid-cute. You know that it doesn't make a crap-filled diaper smell any better by calling it "poopy," don't you? What the hell is wrong with just poop? Personally, I prefer shit. But the wife has an opinion on my language around the daughter.

Another version of this is talking to the baby how you think she's going to say things. If my mother calls herself "Gamma" one more time I'm going to scream.

Don't even get me started on the stupid words parents make up for genitalia.

Seems to me it shouldn't be a radical idea to teach kids the right names for things and the correct way to pronounce them.

And then there are the people who think they know who the baby looks like. I have heard just about every possible combination of who my daughter looks like. People have told me she looks like me, others say my wife. I've had some of my family say my daughter's various cousins or other relatives. You know what? She looks like a baby. Babies this young (weeks old) don't look like anybody. Any claim that she looks like anybody is just people projecting some preconceived idea on my kid. Babies are like Cylons in the new Battlestar Galactica, there are about seven basic models. That's why it is so easy to switch them in the hospital and there are identity bracelets on every limb to make sure that doesn't accidentally (or purposely) happen.

The most dangerous thing I can't stand is the "blame medicine for Autism" movement. I am so sick of seeing this anti-intellectual movement treated with legitimacy. I have heard so many claims of there being "studies" that show a connection between vaccinations, oxytocin or some other drug and Autism. None of it is true, and the studies they site as evidence of these connections are either real studies that are being misrepresented or just flat-out made up. Because of the misinformation spread by these wackos, more parents are choosing to not get their children immunized, and they put my kid at a higher risk.


But you want to know one thing I love about having a baby around? You really don't realize until you have one just how much babies fart, and ours really let's 'em rip with the best of them. And they stink like crazy.

So these days I can just cut loose with mine and blame it on the kid. That's the joy of fatherhood right there.