rant about the patriarchy.

Today I came to a sad realization.

Our society has ridiculously unhealthy views of the female body.

Ok, so "duh!" right?

That's probably not a big shocker to anyone. Growing up as a girl/young women I was bombarded by unhealthy and unrealistic ideals about what my body "should" look like (thank you, Gisele Bündchen!) [Edited to note: of course, not really thanks to her, thanks to patriarchy.]. In our society, everywhere we turn there are images of women showing off their "perfect," sexy bodies, as if we could all live up to that stereotype.

I'll be the first to admit, that those images have had an effect on me. I'll never forget the self-esteem-crushing comments from my male peers in junior high about my "cottage cheese legs" or my insanely twisted desire for what is now deemed a "thigh gap."

Despite the unrealistic views portrayed in the media, I also grew up hearing the common reassurance that women and girls in magazines and TV are all air brushed and that their thinness and flawless beauty are not real. At the end of the day, as a woman in our society, I have still felt the sting of not living up to impossible standards we've set for women's bodies and let me tell ya, it sucks.

I sort of had a little epiphany at work today, though, that caused me to look at things in an even more depressing light. Not only am I (and other women and girls) constantly bombarded by images of how my perfect body should look, but I am told that my body is disgusting, gross, dirty, and shameful.

Think about it.

Menstruation. I'm sure you've all seen the viral video floating around Facebook about the girl who fakes getting her period whose mom throws her an embarrassing party to get even with her for lying. Despite the snark (that has become increasingly popular), we like to keep talk about periods under wraps (almost literally!). It's pretty cliche to see men in media totally horrified when asked to pick up "that-time-of-the-month" items for their wives/girlfriends. It's just so... gross. Right? I've been reading a book about fertility awareness, and the author references the feeling of being "dirty down there" that is so prevalent among girls and women who haven't been properly educated about their bodies. We tend to grow up with this idea that what is normal is actually dirty and disgusting.

I'll admit, I've even fed in to the awful stereotypes. While I've been exposed to a lot of "hippie-ish" attitudes towards the female body lately, specifically as it relates to birthing ("It's beautiful, it's blissful, it's totally normal and amazing what our bodies can do!"), I've still felt grossed out by a lot of aspects of labor and childbirth, even while going through it myself. I've made comments to people about just how gross things get.

Then today at work, one of my 14 year old male clients (I work at a treatment center for adolescents, in case you were wondering) asked me if my husband brought my baby to me at work everyday so I could feed him. His question was the result of passing my office and seeing the sign covering the window: "Feeding my baby. Check back in 10 minutes." that I put up while pumping.

The look on his face when I explained to him why I had the sign up was priceless. It was so indicative of the fact that we have a problem. His response was almost identical to another 13 year old male client who asked me the same question and was absolutely repulsed by that particular bodily function of mine.

Why is it so gross that I make milk to feed my baby? (Answer: it's not.)

Obviously, I am dealing with teenage boys here, and their views on girls/bodies/sex are immature and evolving, but I just found it absolutely saddening that we start boys so young (and really, everyone for that matter) with these negative perceptions about the female body being something gross and shameful.

My boobs are only beautiful if they are big, bouncy, and turning you on for sex. They are bizarre and gross if they are feeding my newborn baby.

My vagina is only beautiful if it's the pathway to pleasure for your penis. It's dirty and disgusting if it's menstruating, or giving birth.

Do the same negative perceptions exist for men about their "male parts?" Of course not! Penises aren't gross, they (and their size) are something to brag about! After all, boys will be boys.

So thank you, patriarchy, for not only whittling down my value to my body and whether or not it is "perfect" and thus pleasing to a man for sexual purposes, but for perpetuating disgust for what truly is normal and should be loveable about my body.

End rant.

P.S. Also saw this commercial tonight. It made me even more sad. Patriarchy for the win!

out of the mouth of Miles.

Sometimes having a two year old feels like sitting in a dark room listening to nails on a chalkboard all day. But sometimes it's like riding a unicorn across a shimmering rainbow.

Here are some sparkling unicorn stories for your reading pleasure:

I will preface this first story by saying that I hate TV. Who am I kidding? I love it. But I'm a little obsessive about not letting Miles or Atticus have any screen time because I'm paranoid to-the-max that they will become addicted/get ADHD and never enjoy the more fun and active aspects of childhood. In the limited time that we allow Miles to watch TV (and by TV, I mean Netflix, because we can't afford to pay for any real channels) he has quickly discovered a few favorite shows. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is one, with Pokemon being a close second. Let me just tell you, it was absolutely adorable when he started saying "Gotta catch a-ball! Pokemon!" Now he requests that I play the theme song and the "Peek-a-choo rap" everytime we get in the car. We've listened to the theme so many times I have it memorized. Who am I kidding, I've known the words for years! Ha. But now Miles and I have fun doing this:

Me- "I wanna be the very best, like no one ever..." (pause and point to Miles)
Miles- "WAS!"
Me- "To catch them is my real test, to train them is my..."
Miles- "CAUSE!"
Me- "I will travel across the land, searching far and..."
Miles- "WIDE!"
Me- "Teach Pokemon to understand, the power that's..."
Miles- "Inside!"
....With a grand and dramatic: "Pokemon, gotta catchaball!!"

Of course he knows the words to most of the song, so it's adorable to hear him just sing it to himself all day, too.

Funny story #2. Adventures at Walmart.
So, one of Miles and I's favorite things to do together is go shopping. One delightful evening at Walmart, we kept hearing some little kid cry in another aisle. Miles kept commenting about the kid crying, so I would say, "Oh, somebody's not happy..." This repeated itself several times with various crybabies throughout the store. "Aw, somebody's not happy, darn it..." Towards the end of our shopping trip, I'm grabbing some Cheerios from the shelf when Miles says (full of concern) "Somebody's not happy, darn it..." A-damn-dorable!

He insisted on riding in this disease-infested thing.

For awhile after Atticus was born, Miles decided to take upon himself the role of booger police. Not only was he into picking his own nose, but he became obsessed with doing inspections on everyone's noses to make sure there were no boogers present. Good thing he mostly kept that funny little quirk in the family.

"Please don't."
Sadly, I don't remember the adorable anecdote that went along with this newly discovered phrase. All I can say is that what was once adorable (hey, he even used his manners!) quickly has morphed into an annoying screech repeated multiple times a day: "I don't!!!" which is short for "I don't want to!"

Do your babies hate tummy time as much as mine do? When Atticus was still pretty small, we started putting him on his stomach for at least a few minutes a day for tummy time. We'd coo and talk to him: "There you go, exercise your muscles!" We'd have Miles get involved too and help by telling baby to exercise his muscles and demonstrating just how to accomplish the task. Talk about having your own personal trainer. Anywho. Miles has various little Winnie the Pooh plastic figurines that he lines up and plays with on the shelf below our TV stand. One day he's playing with Christopher Robin who is laying face down on the TV stand. When I ask him what he's doing, he replies, "He's exercising his muscles!" This was much like the time we caught him breastfeeding Charlie Brown.

With one of his best friends.

Speaking of exercise...
If you read my earlier post, you know about my obsession with Hypnobabies and the power of positive affirmations. My doula sent me a free track of positive affirmations that she created which focus on parenting. One day, Miles and I are eating lunch, while I have the track playing on my phone in the background. The following affirmation is read: "I love to exercise..." Miles instantly goes, "No, I don't like that one." That's my boy! Healthy habits from the start...

The Eavesdropper.
Miles tends to listen in on every conversation between Brett and I. Sometimes it's hilarious the things he will repeat back that he hears us say. Other times it's not so funny (i.e. when Brett taught him to say, "You're pissing me off!" to his trucks). Ok, I'll admit, that's pretty funny too. One day Brett and I are having a conversation and Brett asks, "Do you think our kids are going to be the nerdy kids, or the cool kids when they get older?" Immediately Miles chimes in: "Cool kids!"

Mr. Sassypants.
On top of my amazing good looks, Miles has also inherited my sass-a-fras spirit. We were up visiting Brett's grandparents at their cabin one weekend, and Miles was having the time of his life. He was enjoying his time in the spotlight as grandpa and grandma made him the absolute center of attention. Grandma and I are talking to him and I say something to him. He looks at me and says, "No, I don't want to talk to you." Thanks a lot, kid!

Keepin' it real at the Cabin.

Sometimes getting out of the house with two kids is a fiasco. It's a little bit easier when Brett and I are able to work together at it (I can't ever imagine trying to take both of them somewhere by myself...). On one such occasion, Brett joins me in our room and says, "Ok, I got the kids all ready to go." To which an ever-present-eavesdropping-Miles states, "I'm not a kid, I'm just Miles!"

Sharing is Caring.
I have a lot of old toys and stuff from my childhood. One day I show Miles some little such doo-dad and let him play around with it. He tells me, "It's not yours anymore, it's mine. You can't have it." I reply back, "I don't want it, it's yours now, I gave it to you." A look of utter joy crosses his face as he says, excitedly, "It's my birthday?!"

Making Friends with the Flies.
One of the annoying things about St. George in the summer is the bugs. The flies are out like nobody's business, and they somehow make their way into our house in frenzies. One day, Miles is sitting at the kitchen table finishing his dinner, when we notice him talking to one such fly that keeps landing near his food. "Hi bug. Come back! Come talk to me!" I guess it's kind of like that saying, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em"!

Miles with another creepy-crawly friend.

Another one of Miles's silly quirks is that he loves freckles. I have a huge freckle on my stomach that was especially pronounced while I was pregnant. He always wanted to lift my shirt to see my freckle (I'll leave his adorable mispronunciation of the word to your imagination). Luckily he also has a tiny one on his own tummy that I can re-direct him to when we are in public and he randomly wants to do a freckle check. One day he had me rolling on the floor when he made the observation "Mom, you have freckles in your mouth!" Yup, hopefully you don't get as many cavities as me, kid. They aren't pretty.

The other night, Miles had a hard time going to sleep for some reason. Usually he's pretty easy going at bedtime and easily lays down to read stories to his many friends. This night, he cried and was upset in his bed for a few minutes before we hear him say to himself, "I'm happy! I'm not sad anymore. I'm happy again." The way he narrates his life is too freaking cute sometimes.

What's happening?!
Miles is a very curious and inquisitive kid. One of his favorite questions as of late is, "what happened?" anytime he hears or sees something. It got a little chilly while we were up at Pinevalley for a family reunion last weekend so I went to put on Miles's hoodie. I could not for the life of me get his zipper up, so of course he demands to know (sounding very concerned), "What's happening?!"

Well there you have it. Out of the mouth of Miles.

 

Stay tuned for further musings.