The 21st Century SAHM

What’s Wrong With Your Kid? Here’s Your Answer

April 6, 2016

Don’t compare your kids to other kids.

Don’t compare your house to other people’s houses.

Don’t compare yourself to other mothers.

We’ve all heard it. We know we shouldn’t do it. But we do it anyway. Why isn’t my kid reading at your kid’s level? Your kid is already potty-trained? Mine refuses to even try. My kid can’t catch a ball, and yours looks like a superstar on the field. What am I doing wrong? What’s wrong with my kid?

These are the comparisons we all make. These are the questions we all ask. But here’s the truth.

The kid who can’t read yet may be the best hitter on the team.

The best hitter on the team may struggle with math.

The kid who struggles with math may be an artistic genius.

The artsy kid may be dyslexic.

The kid who is dyslexic may spend her free time volunteering at an animal shelter.

The kid who volunteers may have no real friends at school.

The kid with no friends at school may be musically talented.

The musician may still wear pull-ups to bed at 8 years old.

The kid who still wears pull-ups to bed at 8 years old may be the most well-behaved in class.

The most well-behaved kid may only eat 3 things and cry hysterically when pushed to try new foods.

The kid who only eats 3 things may be gifted. Continue Reading

The Not Very Beautiful Pink Dress

The 21st Century SAHM

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March 25, 2016

Last year on Valentines Day, I messed up. And it impacted my relationship with my daughter. My daughter -- the person I am trying to raise with values of pride in herself.

This past Valentines Day I remembered something that had happened one year ago. I didn’t write about it last year, because, frankly, I was embarrassed. I had made a mistake—one that impacted my relationship with my daughter, about something that should have never been an issue.

She was four at the time, and at the height of pinks and hearts and frills and princesses. And her Valentines Day party at preschool was coming up. I came across a dress online and it jumped off the screen, screaming my daughter’s name. It was pink and fluffy and girly and covered with hearts. It was perfect for Valentines Day. The matching necklace and headband were an extra bonus.

I had never bought her clothes online before, as I am not much of a shopper, nor am I a frilly girly-girl. She wears a lot of hand-me-downs, and the pretty dresses she does have usually come from the sale rack at Target or Kohl’s. Mom is pretty low-key with that kind of stuff.

So this was a big event for her, but more importantly, for me. I was going outside my usual boring, comfortable box, and splurging on something special that I knew she would love. I couldn’t wait to see her face the day of the party.

The day finally arrived (the box had been hidden in my laundry room for weeks). She was going to squeal with joy. She was going to run upstairs to put it on and twirl around the living room, showing us all how beautiful she looked. (I thought.)

Only she didn’t. She hated it. I couldn’t believe it. This moment that I had been anticipating for weeks was ruined. She didn’t like the feel of the fabric, and as soon as she put the dress on, she couldn’t wait to rip it off. Continue Reading

I Am a Feminist For You

The 21st Century SAHM

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March 21, 2016

I am a proud feminist -- for myself, for my mother and for my grandmothers. But most of all, I am a feminist for my daughter.

I see the way eyes roll and the room gets quiet when I proudly declare that I am a feminist. I hear how people—both men and women—spit the word out as if it were a sour grape. I know, and accept, that over the past century, this word has picked up negative connotations. But I believe in the ideologies of feminism—equal rights and equal opportunities for women. It’s not a hard concept, really. And this simplicity solidifies it for me—I cannot imagine any other way to be.

I am not sure where my feminist inspiration originated, but I can feel it growing, intensifying, inspiring me to write, to fight, to speak, to act. I believe this recent surge of pride in my feminist beliefs is a result of an event that occurred five years ago: the birth of my daughter. Therefore, because she is my inspiration, a driving force within my soul, I write this for her.

I want so much for my daughter. I want her to be healthy and fulfilled and validated and proud. I want her to make the world a better place and to know that she is making the world a better place. I want her to find at least one thing that she will fight for. One thing for which she will stand up to the most intimidating bully in the room and refuse to back down when challenged. Whether it be animal rights, or equal funding in education, or saving the planet’s natural resources… I hope she finds something that burns within her gut, that keeps her up at night, that makes her angry at times, that makes her take risks. And if she asks me what my thing was—my passion, I’ll say it was for her. For all girls. I’ll say it was feminism.

Why are you a feminist, Mom? She might ask.

And I’ll tell her this. Continue Reading