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Preschool Politics: Babies, Biting, and Drive-By Parenting

Writer Neal Pollack indulged Salon readers with his failing technique as a parent when his toddler son was ejected from preschool for biting. At one point he referred to his son as a “little shit,” a detail that has since been changed once the drive-by parenting began.

Letters poured into Salon lambasting his account of his son’s behavioral problems, six pages of them, and blogs from across all spectrums raked Pollack and his wife across the coals. Few were kind or understanding. Most decided that the problem lay with the parents, in part because Pollack repeatedly expressed that he and his wife need time away from their son to earn an income and *gasp!* occasional time to themselves in order to preserve their marital sanity.

The article was a funny and engaging account of the darker side of parenthood, and any negative comments made about Pollack’s parenting are a knee-jerk reaction to expressing unpopular sentiments about what others think parenthood ought to look like. Though few seem to think it fit to say so, I stand squarely with Neal Pollack. My son is funny, cute, smart, and engaging. And sometimes I want absolutely nothing to do with him.

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Surrogate mothers bearing babies for gay couples

Well this is an interesting phenomenon. A growing number of surrogate mothers are helping same-sex couples (usually gay men, which would make sense) start families. I think it’s great — just as I think surrogate parenting is a pretty good thing to begin with. And this article serves as a reminder that same-sex couples with families already exist. As the same-sex marriage decision in Mass pointed out, children who are already part of a family headed by a same-sex couple aren’t afforded the same benefits under the law as children whose parents are allowed to be legally married. So in “defending marriage,” anti-same sex marriage advocates are actually harming families. Imagine that.

Teen Parenthood and Afterwards

Flea wrote a post several days ago that I linked to in my latest round-up post. She responded to a minister who grappled with ideas of abortion and choice and teen pregnancy with her usual eloquence. I returned yesterday to find nearly fifty comments to this post, some of which were absolutely disparaging.

I’ve relayed this story many times, the story of my pregnancy and giving birth at eighteen. In short, I had an unplanned pregnancy, decided for several reasons not to get an abortion, was kicked out of my parents’ home (though this is debated within the family), and lived with friends nearly until E was born. I was sick the whole time I was pregnant with chronic bladder, urinary tract, and kidney infections, one of which landed me in the hospital for a week (at which point I was released from the hospital a week early with an IV in my arm and instructions on how to change it by myself — Medicaid rules!), and ended up giving birth two months early due to HELLP syndrome, an affliction that very nearly killed me and will probably recur should I ever get pregnant again.

I chose not to get married, but moved in with E’s dad. We stayed together for one miserable year, both of us horribly depressed, until I finally moved out and back in with my parents. Nonetheless, I managed to finish high school (barely) and immediately started college. Five and a half years later, I’m about to finish up with my undergraduate degree and plan to apply for grad school.

My son is healthy, happy, and wickedly smart. He can read at a 2nd grade level even though he has yet to start kindergarten, knows how to tell a good joke, and loves music just as much as his mom and dad do.

We’re so obviously failures. *gag*

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Who’s your daddy?

Do children conceived via sperm donation have a right to know who their father is? Slate editor David Plotz takes on the potential ban on gay sperm donors, saying that donor anonymity is a more important issue. He’s right that it’s ridiculous to ban sperm donations by any man who has had sex with another man, especially when the screening process for sperm is so thorough. And while he’s not necessarily arguing that children have a right to know who their biological parents are, he seems to be leading the reader in that direction — and I’m not sure that’s one that I’m comfortable going in.

Donating body fluids or eggs, or even giving birth to a child, doesn’t make a parent. If a guy donates his sperm, or if a woman gives up her child for adoption, they don’t give up their rights to privacy. It’s tricky, because I believe that children have rights too, but I’m not sure that their right to know who their birth parents are trumps the adults’ rights to maintain anonymity. Thoughts?

Know your enemy

I read anti-choice blogs, websites and op/eds often. Why? Not just to get mad, but because I think you have to really understand what you’re up against before you can properly counter it.

One thing I always find interesting about the anti-choice movement is their relative success in convincing the general public that stopping abortion is their only concern — when actually, mainstream “pro-life” groups oppose everything from sex education to contraception to invitro fertilization. Anti-choice blogger Dawn Eden writes a telling post about her views on invitro fertilization. For those unfamiliar with Ms. Eden, she was fired from her position as a copy editor at the Murdoch tabloid The New York Post a few months back for injecting her anti-choice views into a news article on IVF. She is ferociously anti-sex (unless you’re married, which she desperately wants to be), and really hates Planned Parenthood for giving out honest information about sex. I read her blog occassionally if I feel like getting pissed off, but generally leave just kind of feeling sorry for her. But this post is particularly interesting, as it further demonstrates that the most extreme anti-choicers (who usually are the ones running the major anti-choice organizations) aren’t just anti-abortion; they’re anti- any reproductive choice, including aiding women in having children.

Luckily, I think the anti-choicers are digging their own graves with their ridiculous opposition to stem cell research, IVF, and birth control. Those issues expose them for who they really are: extremists who only want women to have one choice (marriage and as many babies as God gives). The vast majority of people believe that women and men should have access to birth control and reproductive technology; stem cell research is also gaining a lot of support. So to the anti-choicers, I say, keep at it. And by all means, get louder. You’re only helping us out.

Math Quiz

On the ride home from school, Ethan quizzed me on my math skills.

E: What’s ninety-three times ten?

Me: 930.

E: Okay, what’s two hundred fifty-six times ten?

Me: 2,560.

E: Oh yeah? What’s nine hundred… eighty-five times ten?

Me: 9,850

E: Whoah. [thinks up a hard one] What’s eight-six-three-five times ten?

Me: 86, 350.

E: [eyes bulge] Wow, mom. You’re really good.

Me: Yeah. I am pretty good.

He doesn’t know I did so poorly in my math class this semester I’m retaking it this summer. Let’s not quell his awe.

Reason #849 My Son Amazes Me

I checked on Ethan last night as I was going to bed and noticed his bedroom door was covered with two dozen yellow sticky notes. I crouched down to look at them and look at what I found:

If you have a hard time reading this, it says “Tchaikovsky Music.” The ultimate bonus is the stick drawing of Pablo complete with label.

Baby Mama

Feministing highlights this mother-blaming USA Today article on Fantasia “American Idol (I Broke My Shoe)” Barrino’s new single “Baby Mama.”

Vanessa says:

Barrino won the ridiculously popular karaoke contest last year, and felt it was appropriate to give single mothers — like herself — their own personal anthem in her new album, Free Yourself. Yet the song, while quickly climbing up the Billboard R&B chart, has (unsurprisingly) received more criticism than praise.

For example, this article in USA Today scrutinizes the song. The author gives numerous statistics on single-parent households as her proof, claiming that the media shouldn’t be portraying a woman’s “poor choice” as a “badge of honor.” (In the song, Fantasia says single mothers should have one.)

The song brings up a number of different issues that many single mothers have to deal with, including the shittiness of the welfare system and struggles with employment. I may just be a sucker, but I started tearing up when I heard the song for the first time. Single mothers are stigmatized enough as deviants, continuously shamed for their own “poor choices” and blamed for their economic struggle. The general theme of the song seems to totally subvert that idea. To me, this song is quite due.

Speaking as a single mother, I don’t need any badge of honor.

I get two primary responses when others speak to my single parenthood. The first is quite like the one portrayed by the author of the USA Today article. You made poor choices, they say. Is the daddy still around? My choice not to marry, though it was offered to me, was in the end a good one for everyone involved. Yet my single status is, for some, a reflection of poor morals and lack of character.

This is all projection. I don’t believe a whit of it, even if it is taxing at times to feel the initial compulsion to prove something or someone wrong. But shit, I’m busy. There’s laundry to do. Is it bath night? Damn paper due tomorrow. Not enough time to worry about someone else’s dearth of insight.

The other response I get, which is nearly as tiresome, is faux awe. I don’t know how you do it! It must be so hard!

Again, I’m busy. The litterbox needs emptying. I want to write about something. It’s time to read a book to the boy. I don’t think about how hard or not hard my job is as a single parent unless I slow down long enough to reflect on the lack of funds and manpower around the household. This is the way things are. If I don’t take care of these responsibilities, no one else will, so I’d best get on with it and find some time for myself along the way.

The song subverts the memes apparent in the first reaction listed above: Single mothers do pay the bills, do go to school, do hold jobs, and do raise thoughtful and responsible children. Some of us do it virtually by ourselves and the rest of us rely on a complicated network of friends, family, and structural resources to get by. But success stories aren’t controversial and sexy. You don’t hear about us very often.

Instead you’ll find a load of tripe about how chicks who get “knocked up” must “pay the consequences” for such “poor choices,” like our children are nothing but a negative consequence and couldn’t possibly bring joy or laughter to our lives despite the various hardships. In some cases, you’ll find that single motherhood is regarded as un-American (as is, apparently, the use of an American dialect known as AAVE).

As a single mother I don’t believe I need any badge of honor, but I can do without the proselytizing and admonishment, thank you very much. There is enough of that in the mainstream media, and criticism of single parenthood, especially teen parenthood, is often couched in satire or other brands of humor that, obviously, rarely brings the funny. In the meantime the rest of the media puts on the scare show and ignores that family structures apart from the heterosexual couplings, 2.5 children, white picket fence, and yappy dog, can be and are valuable. Laudable, even.

The article says,

Indeed, women should not selfishly allow the desire to procreate overshadow their ability to care for a child. We must be committed to giving our children fathers who are responsible, supportive and present.

Some of us didn’t get pregnant out of desire, but of circumstance. We have no guarantee that any father (or mother) we choose for our children will be responsible, supportive, or present. A wedding ring doesn’t do much to change that risk either.

Sometimes relationships don’t work. Sometimes people leave for good reasons. Single parenthood is not disastrous. Research “confirming” that single parenthood is disastrous seeks to validate assertions of immoral behavior instead of exploring the evidence, evidence showing that poverty is the primary reason that single parents experience more “failure” in their parenting, than the lack of a second adult figure in the home. Simply stated, two paychecks bring more opportunity to children than one paycheck, but marriage alone does not guarantee economic stability.

Of course my situation is not ideal. But chances are, your parents’ marriage wasn’t ideal, your marriage isn’t ideal, and your children’s marriage won’t be ideal either. Ideal is “a hypothetical construct made up of the salient features or elements of a social phenomenon, or generalized concept, in order to facilitate comparison and classification of what is found in operation.” In other words, ideal is hypothetical, sibling to perfect. If fresh two-parent families prove to follow the statistical model, about 50% of them will find themselves single parents as well. Whether or not this is a disaster depends on your worldview.

Instead of shaming single parents for the audacity to have children, remember that we all got here in myriad ways, none of which are so easily characterized in a list of statistics devoid of subjectivity or context printed in USA Today.

The song “Baby Mama” is downloadable via BearShare and is, in my opinion, mediocre R&B. Nonetheless, thanks to Fantasia for the thought.

Related Reading:
Drive-By Mothering and Parent As Outsider
I Was a Teen Mom
Defining Family
Third Wave Agenda’s “Single moms making ‘poor choices’

Drive-By Mothering and Parent As Outsider

Chez Miscarriage has a wonderful series of posts on “drive-by mothering,” when other parents uninvitedly correct your parenting. Excellent related threads are here and here and especially here.

Reading through the 300+ hilarious and mind-bending comments readers have given in response to these posts unfortunately reminds me of a different sort of commentary I get daily: silence.

I’ve written before about my experiences with the other parents in Ethan’s school and during our daily jaunts, and I think none are more hurtful than the feeling that I personally am unwanted or don’t exist. Ethan is a delightful child (if you ask me) and no one I am aware of have ever penalized him for being the son of incredibly young, unmarried parents (yet), but I and E’s dad have experienced social isolation and distancing for our family situation. As of yet, the only parent friends I have made (but for one who recently moved away) are of strikingly different economic situations (which usually means we have different schedules and little common time and funds to spend together, making the friendships short but pleasurable) or are parents I read on parenting blogs. This does not make for a tangible parenting culture for me to draw from, something I rely on for my parental skills.

I try to relate to other parents with whom we have contact every day. Ethan is always invited to his peers’ birthdays. I tag along, as parents are usually expected to stick around and help supervise. Though I try to start up conversations with other parents, they tend to be short. I find myself wandering about alone or playing with the children, which sometimes seems to amplify my youth. The only time a considerable conversation was raised was when I prepared for a lonely afternoon at a birthday party by bringing my knitting along and several of the mothers commented on my hobby. They then wandered off dicussing crafts amongst themselves and I was left literally mid-sentence to myself. It was a lonely and disappointing day. At least E had fun.

In talking to others, I have had several reasons posed as to why this might be. It might be the high socio-economic class culture of the school. It might be plain prejudice. It might be fear that premarital compulsions are contagious. It might be the lingering discomfort after being asked by several at the school whether or not I was Ethan’s nanny and my rather irritated responses. Relations have improved since these first painful months, but I am always aware of my difference.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s just me and some sort of over-sensitized self-flagellation, but that doesn’t erase the silence.

The most reasonable explanation I have been given so far is that the other parents simply assume that because of my youth we will have nothing in common. My first response to this is that we have one binding thing in common: our kids spend 5-8 hours a day together every single day. Surely there is some talking point.

The most painful afternoon took place last summer. We live right around the corner from a great BBQ joint and walked over one afternoon for some lemonade and sweet potato pie. A little girl from Ethan’s school was sitting at the outdoor cafe with her parents after their lunch, chatting away while they enjoyed the sun. She has always been friendly with the two of us, but her parents never seemed quite comfortable with my presence. When Ethan ran over to say hello, he was greeted warmly. I walked to the table with a smile and a greeting, and held out my hand to formally introduce myself. Her parents just looked at me and didn’t say much of anything. I retracted my empty hand after several excruciating seconds and we said good-bye, leaving with our lemonade and pie.

I don’t anticipate as much of this kind of silence when Ethan begins public school next year. I don’t expect it to cease either. I don’t expect the assumptions about our lifestyle or values or efficency to taper off until I become a less visible presence in Ethan’s public life. It isn’t hard to pick me out of a crowd when my parental peers look old enough to be their children’s grandparents. Over time I’ve learned to care a bit less and focus on making sure Ethan is getting the education that he deserves, but I wonder if his educational experience could be brightened if I felt comfortable enough to participate in the school’s culture to my capacity, if I felt like our family, warts and all, was valued in the school community.

Do me a favor. If there is another parent in your child’s school who appears markedly different, strain your comfort zone and say hello. Think of me.

via Alas and Stone Court