Teaching Feminism at McDonald's

Let me start by saying yes, I do take my children to McDonald's. I have reasons both for and against doing so, and have made an informed decision that we can occasionally go to the nearby "Old McDonald's" for a treat. In a similar vein, my kindergarten-aged daughter wears a LOT of pink sparkly things, has make-up and high heels, and frequently talks about being a princess. Again, I've made my choices, and stand by them, even if I sometimes wince at the results.

That doesn't mean I've compromised my values.

A couple weeks ago, I took my sparklicious daughter and her more sedate brother to McDonald's for lunch and a romp in the play structure there. While they climbed and played I ordered a couple of Happy Meals and something for myself. Now, McDonald's, for whatever asinine reason, not only categorizes their toys by age (toddlers get "safer" bits of cheap plastic); they also gender-identify them so that when ordering one has to request a boy Happy Meal or a girl Happy Meal, or else the cashier freezes in a quandary of what toy to put in the sack. And, of course, the toys for girls are soft and sweet and pink (Strawberry Shortcake, My Little Pony, random stuffed animals) while boys get action toys (Transformers, skateboards, Bakugan).

I resent that.

However, I also get physically ill when facing the bickering that ensues when two kids have the same toy and one disappears, so I took the easy route and ordered one boy toy (ooh, that sounds kinky!) and one girl toy (that does too!) and called the kids down to eat.

After wolfing down their apples and some nuggets, the kids clamored for their toys. Violet got a pink fuzzy thing that may or may not have been a hamster (by making it amorphous the toy company could claim it was any one of four sweet animals -- I think. The explanations were in translated Chinese.) Sam got a Bakugan. For those unfamiliar with the ongoing trend of inexplicable (by which I mean, I don't understand it so I can't explain it) toys/games from Japan, Bakugan is/are a series of robot balls, each of which has a "power" and which seem to be a bastard cousin of Transformers, in that they open up into robots with faces. Some can even combine into greater robots. There are accompanying cards that list the robots' strength, skill, and attack points, all of which reminds me mightily of Dungeons and Dragons in which one's character had strength, skill, and attack points, and I wonder why that was unbearably geeky, but this is cool? But I digress.

Sam was delighted with his Bakugan, immediately disappearing into the tubes and germs that are a PlayPlace. Violet, on the other hand, looked plaintively up at me and asked, "Why did I get _this_ while Sam got a Bakugan?"

So, I took a deep breath and gave Violet a 5 year old's summary of gender discrimination, (yes, I did use those words) and boiled it down to: because she's a girl people think she wouldn't want to play with cool robots. And my fabulous little girl, who is so fierce and strong, understood, and immediately said, "Well, I want a Bakugan." And she took her stupid stuffed blob up to the counter and asked if she could please have a different toy.

The very nice cashier handed her a different sweet fuzzy blob.

She looked at me, then back at the cashier, and said quite clearly, "No, I want a Bakugan."

He didn't get it at first. He stood there, looking at me, then at the pink, sparkly, tiara-bedecked princess in front of him, and at the "girl" toy in his hand. And then the cashier took the second blob back, and handed Violet TWO Bakugan. Because she wanted to play with cool robots, and he was going to make that happen.

We've had a couple more conversations since then about girl toys and boy toys, and gender in general. Our kids are pretty good about it. Sam likes to wear nail polish, and has learned to ignore friends and classmates who make negative comments about it. Violet is still of an age where she's trying to use physical cues to help her distinguish boys from girls, but clothing and hair length are no longer the first things she sees. Most important (to me), is that both of them understand that they can be or do whatever they want, and we'll love them unconditionally.

And that, whenever we go to McDonald's, they can have whatever toy they want.

Holiday greetings

Dear Family
Happy holidays
I love you XOXOXOXO
Violet

Yardstick

The passing of my days

is ticked in irregular increments

upon the door frame

separating the kitchen from

the rest of the house.

Each rising mark a triumph

for you

and a sweet sadness for me

as you shed your childhood

like autumn leaves

falling slowly

until I am buried

beneath the pile of memories.

Running to Stand Still

I've been looking forward for weeks to the quiet of an empty house. Two kids in school ideally means seven hours a day to myself. I grew up with a great deal of solitude, and feel keenly the difference between lonely and alone. And I crave time alone. Time to think an idea all the way through without resorting to scribbling fractured notes I must later interpret and try to re-create a line of thought. Time to finish a task - even if it's just cleaning a bathroom - without circling through the house picking up things and making meals and separating storming children between each step.

I imagined blissful hours to accomplish everything on my years-old task list; and finding hollow spaces I had to fill with projects or visits to old friends; and being a better parent because I cherished the time with my kids instead of working around their presence to get stuff done.

It didn't happen.

I cried when I left Violet at kindergarten, and spent a few hours reaching for her little hand as I ran errands in my first solo afternoon. But since then, I've had no time to miss her. This year I accepted a position on the school PTA, and it's filling my days (and evenings, and even sleepless nights) with responsibilities and obligations. I'm having trouble finishing anything, because each part of my life is overlapping the others, and I can't concentrate on anything. And I spend my rare quiet moments wondering how any woman ever survives working and parenting and maintaining a marriage. Today is the first day I've had the house to myself since August (Will finally found some work) and I've gotten more done this morning than in many days past, but the passage of time makes me anxious to the point of skipping bathroom breaks and putting off meals.

I did take up my knitting again in the brief time Will and I spend together, exhausted into complacency in front of the TV. And strangely, the year-or-more hiatus has made me a better knitter. I even finished a hat and have started on number two. It's nice to actually have something to show for a hours work.

So. I breathe, and now I'm off to do more laundry before starting in on emails. Bless all of you who do this and hold down a job. I'm in awe.

My beautiful boy

We had to cut off all his hair. Don't ask why. The only good thing was that he allowed me to take some portraits of his new hairstyle. Doesn't he look nice! More pictures on Flickr.

Contemporary Art a la Five Year Old

Actual transcript of a conversation with V as she was getting into the bathtub tonight:

Mom: "Why do you have green marker all over your bottom?"

V: (grinning) "I was making a peanut!"

M: "A peanut?"

V: "Yeah! A peanut with my BUTT!"

M: "A peanut with your butt?!?"

V: "Yeah!"

At which point girl-child sat down on the bathroom floor and mimed tracing her naked cheeks with a green marker.

V: "I sat on a piece of paper and made a peanut. Then I cut it out!"

She then raced (naked) out of the bathroom and returned, triumphantly, with her peanut.

I think I should apply for an arts grant for her, don't you?

the peanut in question

A brief tutorial

Benjamin Franklin famously said, "Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days." But what if, to your delicate sensibilities, your guests stink BEFORE THEY EVEN ARRIVE? Just follow this brief tutorial, and you, too, can make your visitors feel like leaving before they even unpack.

Step 1. Look unfriendly. No matter what was said to give those people the impression that their presence is desirable (like repeated phone calls explaining how there's plenty of room, it makes the most sense, you'll be able to spend more time with them, etc), when they arrive keep a frown on your face, and, if possible, add a little wrinkling between the eyebrows. Nothing says "Go away!" like a screwed up face.

Step 2. Don't make them feel "at home" with bizarre statements like "welcome", "It's good to see you", "I'll show you around" or even "here are some towels for you to use". Under NO CIRCUMSTANCE do you want your foul smelling impositions to think that they can treat your house like a home.

Step 3. DO NOT interrupt your regular plans. Sure, the visitors may have driven thousands of miles to see you, but that doesn't mean you want to see THEM. Stick to your Friday dinner plans with the friends you see twice a week. For Pete's sake, you haven't seen them for FOUR WHOLE DAYS, which means you have LOTS of catching up to do -- which also justifies not including the guests in your conversation. At all.

Step 4. Ask your guests to stay quietly in their rooms as long as possible in the morning "for the sake of the children". That way they won't bother you, even if you're up early. Remember: you only reluctantly conceded to having them stay, not to be your friends.

Step 5. Make it clear that you are NOT a doormat, and you will not be providing meals for your guests. Of course you'll make the usual four separate, individual breakfasts for your family, but the freeloaders can darn well forage for themselves. After all, there ARE leftovers in the fridge. Hopefully, they'll even clear out the end-of-date food you are too sensible to eat. If you prefer, you can always go out to eat. If you do it right, you can sit at opposite ends of the table and not have to talk to them at all.

Step 6. Make lots of plans that the interlopers can't participate in. if that doesn't work, make plans with them, but don't bother showing up when you say you will, and be sure to leave without telling them. If you do have to do something together, make sure it's loud and unpleasant, and mislead them as to what their expectations should be. If you (unfortunately) have to do two activities together, be sure to invite your true friends to "unexpectedly" show up, so you can, again, ignore these other people.

Step 7. Practice your veiled insults before they arrive, so you can use priceless lines like "I love my children too much to do that" when the guests kiss their kids goodnight and send them to PUT THEMSELVES TO BED. Bad parenting must ALWAYS be commented on.

Finally, Step 8. No mingling. Remember, fraternization leads to contamination, so make sure to find ways to keep any children from actually interacting (reference Step 4). For your part, do not participate in small talk, like asking about your guests' trip, or inquiring about them as individuals. Such activities may lead to a false sense of friendship, at least on their part.

Follow these tips and you should have your visitors crying to themselves in the shower within two days. Keep up the good work! With effort, you may even encourage them to move on a day earlier than planned. If you succeed, bravo! If not, well, it's not like you're ever going to visit THEM, is it?