Consent is Sexy

We are taking an infant massage class right now, taught by my doula who also happens to be a massage therapist. (...I know, right?! Best occupation combo ever. Even better than millionaire/superhero in my books). The first thing we learnt before even touching our babies is to ask whether it's okay to touch. You know, that whole consent thing. She discussed it for a few brief minutes, highlighting the importance of asking permission and setting that precedent for our little ones: it's their body, it's their choice who if anyone gets to touch it. And while it may seem silly to some and may sound funny to say out loud, establishing early the (radical?) idea that they are the ones in control of their own bodies is definitely important.

And while I'm not at all surprised that my doula incorporated this into her lesson planning (keeping in character with the awesome person she is), it is still a bit surprising to hear it talked about at all. And this surprises *ME*, who taught consent to teens on a daily and weekly basis for a year and a half. It's surprising because it still really isn't talked about often- with kids, or adults.

When I was 15, I was asked out on my first ever date. Being the naive and very boy-inexperienced girl I was, I had no idea what the protocol was, and I was so shocked that instead of answering, I just rambled on about school schedules. But later I tried to "decide" what to do about it with my friends. Even though I wasn't remotely attracted to this boy's personality or physical looks, I didn't really feel like there was any decision to be made other than "yes". After all, I'd never had a boyfriend or received any male attention before. As crazy as it sounds, I seriously didn't think I was allowed to say no. Eventually (like, a few weeks later and after one very awkward date that I insisted was not a date), I "broke it off" in true middle-school fashion: I got my friend to tell his friend that we were not dating and never really were. Classy, I know.

But, had that "relationship" continued, I really think that I would not have felt the ability and permission to say no to other things that I didn't really want- more dates, kissing, sexual activity.... Maybe I would have found my voice ad issued a firm "no" to these things, but maybe not. And that's to things that concern my very own body. The one I live in and you know... OWN. I think part of that was immaturity, but I'm sure another part had to do with upbringing. Stuff like consent was never enforced or even articulated for me by my parents or teachers. Sure, I got the 'stranger danger' talk multiple times, but even that always left me feeling like the powerless, not able to take charge or impart any locus of control of my own fate- "watch out for creeps, they're everywhere and they can rape you and kill you in a second!". And etc. etc.

So, I'm really pleased when I hear the topic of consent discussed openly- with or about children, as in massage class, or with adults- kudos to my feminist social service friends who have hosted "Consent is Sexy" dance parties.

My daughter is just short of 6 months old, and when I imagine her entering the world of dating, I still haven't felt that urge to scream "no dating until she's 30!!!!". (maybe that instinct will kick in, or maybe my liberal leanings have pushed it far down into the depths, I don't know). But I hope, dream, and pray that she will be well informed about consent and feel real power over her body, throughout her whole life and whenever she chooses to start dating. And I really, really hope that whether she dates a boy, a girl, both, or neither, that she feels like she is in control of making that decision and can indeed say "no" if she wants to, and know that it's the right decision for her when to say "yes" as well. Because a couple years later, when I was 17, much more the myself that I am now, and began dating her father, I felt empowered when saying "yes", and got to feel the thrill and joy of what that meant for me. It's absolutely true- consent is sexy.

I'm really, really super beautiful... ya dig?

I know, I haven't blogged in a while. I've been A. busy with life, and B. haven't had much inspiration for anything remotely clever lately (unless having to call a plumber to unclog the roots in my drain sounds like a particularly regaling tale).

I just read this article on Offbeat Mama, called "I've started telling my daughters I'm beautiful".

I think it's a must-read, but if you don't have time for it now, the gist is that your kids think you're beautiful, and as well they should.

Even if you aren't in agreement, "fake it 'til you make it, baby"... use your voice and tell them:
"I love this dress and I love this colour on me"
"My hair is fabulous today"
"Look at how big and beautiful you're making Momma smile right now! Isn't that pretty?"

Or, you know, whatever works. The point is: they think you're a lovely goddess. Don't say anything to counter that perception. And when I say goddess, I don't mean because of your most recent manicure, because you just got back from the hair salon, or because you lost all that baby weight. You're beautiful because you're you.

And, if you're not a Momma, you're still beautiful because you're you. Think about it... why do you love your friends? Your family? Do your love your Mom because of that makeover? Your sister because of her new hair style? Your best friend because she's lost all that baby (or other) weight?

No. You don't. You love them because of who they are, because of what they bring to your life and the gifts they share. Their love, generosity, kindness... their beauty.

So, before the world has a chance to beat the living crap out of their wonderful (and actually, perfectly correct) notions of beauty... before they get that first crushing blow that makes them think twice about their own beautiful bodies... tell them you're beautiful. Tell your Mom you love your eyes- after all, you got them from her. Tell your sister you love the body shape you both share. Tell your best friend that you think your matching sense of style is damn fine.

Don't. Stop. Telling them.

Picture Tuesday

"This is a song about that feeling that I think we all get sometimes... where you feel like you're the smallest doll in a babushka doll."

And because it's been that kind of day for me, I decided to upload some feel-good imagery. Even if you're not having that kind of day, maybe this will still make you feel good anyway. There's not enough "feel good" in the world, so let's add some more...

P.S. If you can think of a better title than my silly "Picture Tuesday" title above, let's hear it. Ideally, something with alliteration... like Twonie Tuesday, minus the chicken from KFC. :) 

I'm not a mother first

"Heart bursting leprechaun" ---Ummm... I had the idea for this post in the middle of the night and decided to make a draft of it so I didn't forget. This line was all I found when I opened it up again and I'm not at all sure what it means. I have no idea how leprechauns factor into this post, but maybe it will come back to me again while I start writing. If not, I'll go eat some Lucky Charms, I guess...?

Anyway. As anyone who has been around me lately can tell you --- whether that is in person, or over some social media finagled go-go-gadget like the facebook or the instragram --- I LOVES this whole new parenting gig. It's better than chocolate, better than that other thing (which is funny, get it, because that's what lead to the parenting...?), and GODDESS even better than Coke and Buffy (and I love me my Coke and Buffy). This has been the most thrilling, exciting, magickal, awe-inspiring best almost-5 months of my life and while Bean is growing up so fast, I am loving living in the moment with her and am sucking up the essence of this time when she is still such a teeny tiny person.

When I wasn't researching school stuff, I was researching house stuff, cool projects to do, things to make, etc. Now I research cloth diapers. And baby carriers. And which solids to start first. And how to make our co-sleeping arrangement even safer now that she's getting more mobile. And cloth diapers again. FOR HOURS. And it's actually FUN.

As one of my wonderful doulas said, "drop-in groups for parents and babies are basically there for you to talk about your baby. You talk about your baby, and then you wait patiently while half-listening to other parents talk about their baby, and you can't wait until they're done talking so you can talk about your baby some more."   ... Total.Truth. And I actually *do* try to be cognizant of the fact that not everyone wants to hear about your baby all the time, or see 10 basically-the-same pictures-but-with-a-slightly-different-angle-but-it-was-just-too-cute-not-to-include-in-the-facebook-album. But still, yeah... my brain is babyfied.

BUT as much as I am loving this mommyhood gig, I've also got to say: I'm Not A 'Mother First'.

I recently read an article on this subject (and same title) from Jessica Valenti:

"It’s understandable that some women would embrace motherhood as their primary and most important identity. When you have little power, you take it where you can. ...
Fathers are never expected to subsume their identity into parenthood the way that mothers are. If President Obama were to tell us that he is ’father-in-chief’ first, America would balk. How could a man be an effective president if he put the needs of his children above the needs of his country?
Yes, we are mothers and sisters and daughters and wives. We’re also much more. And declaring our individual importance as people and citizens does not diminish the depth of love we have for our children or the central role parenthood plays in our lives.
When we tout ourselves mothers first, women give those who would enshrine their dehumanization more firepower and assure that their domestic work will only ever be paid in thanks, not in policy or power. Until that changes, I’m a mother second."

So even with this mad-motherhood-love I've got swinging, I'm also a mother second. And I'd like to think that when Bean gets older, she will agree with that sentiment.

What would a 'Balance' look like?

Baby cuddles + housework + family free time + work out + thesis = no sleep.

Sleep + baby cuddles + housework + family free time + work out = no thesis.

Thesis + sleep + baby cuddles + housework + family free time = no work out.

Like the Unicorn and the Phoenix, I believe the Balance is a mythical creature that does not exist.

Maybe the noise it would make sounds similar to "lies". Or maybe it just laughs like a hyena. Either way, tomorrow I'm asking my husband to sketch me a picture of what it might look like.

Upon inspiration from a sign reading "Huge garage sale!", he did in fact conceptualize and draw the cutest little creature called a Huge. I would def want one.

We already know that this Balance creature must be damn cute for everyone to want it so badly...

Dream-feed defined.

Dream-feed (definition taken from my personal experience):

When you decide your baby is going to wake up soon so you pull yourself away from thesis work at 3 am (although you know you shouldn't really call it thesis work because you haven't really done anything but fool around on the Internet) and sneak quietly into the bedroom. You pull the just-starting-to-stir baby over to you gently and encourage her rooting reflex. Mouth opens, head moves around in search. Insert nipple. Baby sucks. Let-down results from sucking. Baby feeds vigorously and stops when the milk stops flowing. Baby re-enters deep sleep without ever waking. Momma slips out after a cuddle, assuring herself that now she will do at least SOME thesis work. Resumes fooling around on the Internet. Lather, rinse, repeat.

The world we live in...

What's the saying... five friends could compliment you (on your sense of humour, mad style, whatever) and one person could say something critical, and it's the critical thing that sticks in your mind? Or something like that. I know there's a similar statistic about it.

So I know it's also really easy to get down in the dumps about this world. This world with its hate, intolerance, wars, feeling devoid of warmth, general meanness to one another, SUVs killing the planet, and it goes on and on until you just want to sit in the corner of a dark room and brood (by the way, whenever I hear the word 'brood', I always picture Angel from Buffy. King of the brooders).

But this makes it all too easy to forget that this world --- and specifically, at this particular time in history in this world --- there are all kinds-of-good happening.

Something my partner and I have talked recently about (and often) in this regard is LGBT rights. The quote "we've come a long way, baby" comes to mind...

When I was in high school, I was one of the only kids in my classes that fought vehemently for same sex and same gender marriage, that gay men/gay women could raise children just as damned well as any other family out there. For my psychology class, I wrote a paper about research confirming biological origins on the side of "being gay is not a choice".

But I was one of few who (openly at least) thought this way. There were a few out gay and lesbian kids, but not many. And most of the ones who were out lacked social support.

This is so different now, in the span of only (8? 9?) years. There is Camp Aurora, for LGBT teens. Gay-Straight Alliances in schools.

Ohhh, and the media! I'm not a Glee fan personally, but I know of one episode where all the high schoolers lost their virginity. One couple consisted of two gay men. And their first times were treated with just as much respect as the straight couples' were. And this is on a national, primetime, basic cable network.

I actually remember when Roseanne kissed another woman on her show (the other woman was a lesbian, Roseanne was not, and it was just a friendly kiss) and their was So. Much. Outrage. And I remember when my favourite show ever got flack in the year 2000 for wanting to show a lesbian kiss between two important female characters in a committed and loving relationship.

Now there's The New Normal, Modern Family, and I'm sure others I'm forgetting. The part that I love the most is that in many cases (although not all) it is treated as exactly what it is--- normal.

I had a discussion with someone a couple years ago about whether we would care if our kids turned out to be gay. The other person had said that even though they are fully supportive of LGBT rights, they would not wish their child was gay simply to save them the hurt that would accompany that status. I understood that position, but I disagreed, and now I feel more adamant about it.

The times they are a-changing. There's still a long way to go, but there's so much that has improved over the past few years and it is still improving- more rapidly than ever before. I have high hopes that by the time all of my children do identify with a sexual and/or gender orientation and make that identity known, that not only will they be met with acceptance, but it will just be perfectly normal.

Like how the teen boy came out to his Dad on United States of Tara, and the Dad just basically said "cool. So, do you want to go get a burger?" (or something to that effect).

We're almost at that point! The world isn't ALL bad after all...