Yes, I took the title of this post from a World of Warcraft achievement. I never said I wasn't a colossal nerd. (BTW, just got that achievement last night. w00t! inscription.)
Anyway, just wanted to offer a heads-up for those who were maybe new to the blog or just plain hadn't noticed; I have set up an Adsense account on the blog, so there will be ads on the sidebar and following every post. I hope that doesn't offend anyone or stop them from reading, but, hey, you know, I gots to get paid.
You wanna help a sista out (I can say that, I am somebody's sister), click on an ad every once in a while (editor's note: but only if you are legitimately interested in the product, so as not to encourage ad-click fraud). I promise that at least 90% of them don't lead to miniature horse porn. (editor's note: I have no way of substantiating that promise.)
If Only...
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
How to Tell if your Toddler is Hyper-Masculine (or Feminine)
I remembered not long after submitting my last post that I'm acquainted with far too many people with far too little sense of humor. That's why I feel the need to follow up here and assure you: No, I don't really think my son is gay. (Again, I think he's still only, you know, 1, so it's probably a little early to tell one way or the other.)
But, in the interest of presenting both sides of the grime-encrusted coin that is my boogery little toddler's personality, I present to you all the ways that I fear my son may actually be too masculine:
But, in the interest of presenting both sides of the grime-encrusted coin that is my boogery little toddler's personality, I present to you all the ways that I fear my son may actually be too masculine:
How to Tell if your Toddler is Gay
Okay, so, for starters, let's get the obvious out of the way and let me ensure you that the title of this post is a joke. Part of my amusement comes from the whole "Shiloh Jolie-Pitt is transgendered!" debacle. (A four-year-old doesn't like wearing frilly dresses? Unheard of!) The other bit started a few months ago when we were Christmas shopping. Taking a little breather in Toys R' Us, my son seemed really interested in a little doll baby that babbled and cooed when you held her. He very gently played with and rocked the little doll, just barely touching her hair and hands.
Uh-oh...my son's gay! Or, maybe he's curious about babies due to the fact that, between myself and two sisters, there's always someone in a stage of pregnancy or with a newborn. (He is the 2nd oldest of four cousins, all under the age of 3.) So when he saw that little doll, he treated it the same as he would his baby cousins, smiling at it and touching it very gently.
I almost got it for him, but I knew some of his less open-minded extended family would have a fit over buying a doll for a little boy. After all, I might "confuse" him. In my opinion, I think he should be more confused at the idea that males can't take care of little babies, especially considering how great his own dad is with kids, but I don't expect outdated gender roles to reverse themselves overnight.
Uh-oh...my son's gay! Or, maybe he's curious about babies due to the fact that, between myself and two sisters, there's always someone in a stage of pregnancy or with a newborn. (He is the 2nd oldest of four cousins, all under the age of 3.) So when he saw that little doll, he treated it the same as he would his baby cousins, smiling at it and touching it very gently.
I almost got it for him, but I knew some of his less open-minded extended family would have a fit over buying a doll for a little boy. After all, I might "confuse" him. In my opinion, I think he should be more confused at the idea that males can't take care of little babies, especially considering how great his own dad is with kids, but I don't expect outdated gender roles to reverse themselves overnight.
Shameless plug: The amazing seahorse makes babies sleep!
Okay, so does it count as a shameless plug if I'm not getting paid a cent to endorse it, and just really, really love the product? No? Okay cool.
I bought this seahorse for my boy when I was still pregnant with him. I loved the fact that it made ocean sounds in addition to lighting up and playing music, and was machine-washable on top of that. (You just take out the mechanical part in the middle, easy-peasy.)
From since he was born, this awesome seahorse has been my son's bedtime lovey. It takes very little pressure to make the belly light up and play sounds, so it's good for even a little baby, and it turns off after 1o minutes, which is just about the perfect amount of time to soothe a little one to sleep.
At 18 months, my son has two so that one can stand in while the other takes a run through the wash, and he'll normally signal that he's ready for a nap by picking up his seahorse, hugging it on, and coming over and asking to be picked up.
His two younger cousins also each have one now, too. : D
I got his at Babies R' Us for about $15, which is a really good deal for the triple-threat combo of a stuffed animal/nightlight/sound machine, not to mention all the good nights' sleep.
Mommy in the middle: The lost generation of mothers
I don't meet a lot of other moms in my demographic. Or, any, really. I seem to fall smack-dab in the middle, agewise, of everyone I know who has kids around my kid's age. It's either moms who conceived accidentally when they were still practically kids themselves, or the women who wait until the 401k is secure and the mortgage is stable before charting their ovulation calendars and getting pregnant in the oh-so-in-vogue 28-30 age range. I belong to neither of those groups. I had my son at age 24, after three years of marriage to my best friend. (And I'm not calling my husband my "best friend" in some sort of cheesy way. I mean the guy with whom I still stay up late to watch cartoons, drink beer and eat pizza, and play DDR with, just like we did in college. One of the few people who curses at the tv as much as I do watching sports, and who possesses an even greater love than mine for SNL digital shorts. THAT husband/best friend.)
So, I got a little off-track there. But, yeah, I don't know many moms my age. That's not all so bad though. I tend to get along better with people a little older than me. I've even made some mom-friends at church through "Mommy's Morning Out", and bible studies, and prayer groups and things. But there's still another glaring difference: I work. And not just some little admin job a few days a week to help pay the bills, or substitute teaching. I'm the breadwinner. I have a career, and no intention of leaving it, even if I financially could. In fact, if we could afford, my husband would be a stay-at-home-dad. As much as I love my little monster, the idea of being home every day changing diapers and making snacks, singing along with "Yo Gabba Gabba" (though it is really awesome, for a kid's show), is almost physically painful for me. I only took 3 weeks of maternity leave when my little man was born, and by the end of it I was craving adult interaction so badly, I'm surprised I didn't resort to drastic measure, like ChatRoulette. So, the acronym SAHM does not, and will never, describe me.
So, I got a little off-track there. But, yeah, I don't know many moms my age. That's not all so bad though. I tend to get along better with people a little older than me. I've even made some mom-friends at church through "Mommy's Morning Out", and bible studies, and prayer groups and things. But there's still another glaring difference: I work. And not just some little admin job a few days a week to help pay the bills, or substitute teaching. I'm the breadwinner. I have a career, and no intention of leaving it, even if I financially could. In fact, if we could afford, my husband would be a stay-at-home-dad. As much as I love my little monster, the idea of being home every day changing diapers and making snacks, singing along with "Yo Gabba Gabba" (though it is really awesome, for a kid's show), is almost physically painful for me. I only took 3 weeks of maternity leave when my little man was born, and by the end of it I was craving adult interaction so badly, I'm surprised I didn't resort to drastic measure, like ChatRoulette. So, the acronym SAHM does not, and will never, describe me.
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