It’s That Season Again

It’s that time of year when winter clothes are put away and shorts and tank tops suddenly appear from the bottom drawer; when baseball and softball paraphernalia begins to collect at the back door and dinners get rushed again; when fancy dresses for the spring holidays are purchased and Prom season.

I don’t know about your house, but in my house the struggle to get my children to wear coats in the winter is only equaled by the struggle to get them to not wear shorts in early spring and late fall.  I pick my battles.  These are not battles I wage.  This falls under my “natural consequences” parenting method. If you chose to wear just a hoodie in 32 degree weather despite my urging to wear a coat, then you froze at the bus stop, not me. (This also goes for homework assignments not turned in on time, you didn’t do it, you get the F, not me. Other categories apply as well, but you get the idea.)

Then there is the sports equipment bag that never seems to be put away in the same place every time we get home. And the hat.  Where is the hat?  And I really can’t discuss the cleats.  I think we can all agree that they pose dirt and tripping issues when they are not in the boot tray.  (A heavy sigh accompanies each trip.)

The real issue with this time of year for me is the dressing.  The Easter/Passover dresses are beautiful. The bonnets, are adorable. The little white shoes…….oh wait they aren’t little white shoes anymore. They are HIGH heeled shoes.  For the life of me I can’t figure out why shoe manufacturers decided putting little girls in high heels at five years old was appropriate. It is not.  This leads me to wonder, why parents buy these shoes for their little girls.  They are not safe.  They are not appropriate and then unnecessarily teach girls to hurry up and “grow up.”

Prom (with a dash of Homecoming dance thrown in).  I would like to take a moment to say, I love the idea of Prom. I love the idea of kids dressing up and celebrating their high school experience together and dancing and having fun.  Here’s where it veers off course for me. Prom dresses. 

When did it become socially acceptable to dress one’s daughter like an adult entertainer?  When did it become socially acceptable to dress one’s 14-17 year old daughter like a 25 year old? 

I was dropping my daughter and her boyfriend off at the Homecoming Dance at East Haven High School last fall when I saw a girl walking in with her date.  She was wearing a dress so short and so tight that I had to wonder if she was going to be able to sit down at all. She was made up so heavily that instead of creating a look to enhance her features she ended up looking like Tammy Faye Baker with a fake tan.  And the shoes. She was wearing 5 inches see-through heels. The entire outfit made this girl look like a prostitute or an adult film star.  Either way she would have looked completely out of place while walking in with a 16 year old boy with slacks and a nice tie had she been the only girl dressed this way. Sadly she was not.  

This was also the dress code at the 8^th grade graduation I attended for my daughter.  It took place at 3 o’clock in the afternoon but two thirds of the girls were dressed like they were going to go clubbing.  The dresses were tight, sparkly and completely inappropriate for the occasion.  I bought my daughter a beautiful floral print linen sundress with some modest wedge shoes.  She looked 14. She was 14. She looked beautiful.  She did not look like a little girl trying to play dress up wearing her aunt’s clothes and make-up in public. I cannot say the same for the other girls.

When I see prom pictures of friends’ children or even my relatives whose kids have gone to prom I am struck by the outfits the girls wear.  In much the same way the girl at the Homecoming was inappropriately dressed for her age, the girls all wear dresses that look like bathing suits with floor-length skirts attached. 

If we want our girls to achieve all their goals and succeed in adulthood do we really want them to look back and wonder why they dressed like hookers at their prom? I have a beautiful daughter.  I have always told her that she is smart and she is funny and she is an amazing person and by the way she’s pretty.  Never have I ever emphasized her appearance because beauty fades but intelligence lasts forever.

When we allow our five year olds to wear high heels, because the shoe stores sell them and they are “in style” aren’t we robbing them, just a little bit, of their childhood?  When we allow our teenaged daughters to dress like hookers what are we telling them?  Would you allow your daughter to wear a bikini to school?  

Would you allow your teenager to wear lingerie to the grocery store?  Would you allow your daughter to wear a Prom dress with cutouts showing all but her breasts from the waist up to Church? 

If you want your child to remain a child and slow the acceleration toward adulthood, then don’t allow your daughter to dress like an adult, whether she is five years old or 17 years old.  Perhaps the rule of thumb should be, if a woman of 70 shouldn’t wear it, then a girl of 17 shouldn’t wear it. It is equally inappropriate. 

And on a side note, make sure the Prom dress fits appropriately and try not to spend a week’s paycheck on the dress.  They wear them for one night.   

I realize my views on this are not popular as this seems to be the norm for many girls these days.  But, I contend that just because everyone does it, doesn’t make it okay.  Cue the sound of MY Mother’s voice in my head, “Just because Betsy’s Mother lets her go out looking that way, doesn’t mean I am going to let you.”

Take a cue from my wise Mother. Let your daughter be a girl until she is an adult. Let her find her own style but insist that it be age-appropriate.  There are some beautiful gowns that provide appropriate cover and yet come in all kinds of styles, fabrics and colors, I know because I checked. Let your daughter express who she is not who she most likely won’t ever want to be.

So, now that it is the season for battles, try and make sure that you pick the important ones.  Trip over the cleats, let them wear shorts even if it’s a bit chilly out but buy ballet shoes for your 5 year old so she looks lovely but still a little girl and for goodness sakes, cover up your daughter’s torso and lighten up on the make-up. She is only going to be your little girl once. Really. Cherish and honor her and give her the childhood and teen years she deserves. 

My daughter wants to wear a tux for her Prom, with high-top Converse sneakers.  It’s a year away. I will keep you posted.

A day in the life of an Arguposter.

One has to wonder why some people take the time to comment on various online forums, articles or social media websites in a negative and/or hostile manner.

I am of the opinion that there are several types of posters on these various web outlets.   There are those who are enthusiastic and find the positive in a story, item or thread and want to praise the author. There are those who simply want to share their knowledge and/or correct a misconception posted by a previous commenter.  There are those who find fault in everyone who posts and really just post to “hear themselves type.” 

Then there are the adults who behave like children online.  These people fall into several subcategories but for the sake of brevity I will stick to one that particularly troubles me. There are the folks who have strong beliefs, such as politics or religion and make every thread on which they post about their issue and/or position.  They attack anyone who disagrees, no matter how reasonable the other person may be.  And assume that they must “win” their self-imposed argument and have the last word.   I shall call these the Arguposters.

When any opinion or news piece is posted online these days, many outlets include a “comments” section. Many are organized in much the way one can comment much like on a friend’s Facebook status.  

When Arguposters begin their assault, they tend to assume that either the author or anyone else who comments is going to argue so they are loaded for bear from the start.  Typically, Arguposters tend to have a one track mind, though sometimes they can have a dual track but these tend to converge into one.  What disturbs me most about Arguposters is that in addition to alienating many reasonable and articulate adults, they 

tend to create a pack mentality and all horn in on one commenter who may have an opposing view.  This discourages and turns off many people who may have another view from letting their voices be heard.  It further tends to create an illusion that the only commenters in that arena are the Arguposters because they the only commenters left.

Arguposters are of all ages, races, creeds, colors and intelligence level.  Which is ironic because in recent experience I have found that there are some who see themselves as not racist, yet all the comments they post invariably read otherwise. 

Arguposters can be quite intractable, though to be fair I have found some to be in agreement with me sporadically.  Though I sometimes think this is to lull me into a false sense of community.

Arguposters tend to post at the same time of day each day that they do so, almost as if the arguing must be scheduled. 

Arguposters can be hasty and mistype and misspell or use incorrect grammar which may or may not reflect their intelligence level.

Arguposters tend toward personal attack when met with a reasonable response and/or correction about a posted misconception.  These attacks, when met by a reasonable response tend to be ignored only to later have said Arguposters re-attack the same person, usually less creatively as the first attempt.

Arguposters rarely if ever use either their real name or their whole name, unless of course it is on Facebook and they are your “friend” or the friend of one of your friends.

Why do I tell you about Arguposters? 

Because they are everywhere.  They are your friends who vehemently disagree with you on a subject, i.e. Homosexuals Marrying or Gays in the Military or Politics in the extreme and use your page, despite the fact that as friends you agree to disagree, to spew their opinion all over your page.  They are your neighbors who go on the local paper website and spew all of their frustrations about whatever is happening in town in the comment section of any given story. They are members of your community who in the cloak of anonymity also spew all of the hatred, racism and irrational beliefs about any given subject all in the spirit of their warped sense of community. 

Arguposters are really just scared.  They are afraid of change, whether it has occurred or will occur.  They are afraid they may be wrong.  They are afraid that their insecurities and/or lack of knowledge or even their lack of self-worth will be exposed. 

In this era of online discussions where the village we live in exists in person and online it seems there is too much room for the Arguposter. 

How, can you avoid being an Arguposter?     

1. If you have a issue that you feel passionate about and you want people to learn about your issue, remain steadfast in your beliefs and only post your comments when the story you are commenting on is absolutely related to your issue. 
2. Be reasonable.
3.  Avoid unnecessary arguments
4. Do not engage with Arguposters.
5. Remain calm.
6. Avoid eye contact.
7. Keep to the topic at hand. 
8. Make sure that when you do comment it is not the same subject or the same actual comment every time.
9. Do not engage in personal attacks ever.
10. Avoid any snarky remarks even when the urge to do so is stronger than the urge to eat an entire box of Thin Mints!!

In an era when much of our interaction with our village is online, trying to regain some civil discourse seems to me the way we should be moving.  I fear however it is not.  The more we hide behind the anonymity of the internet the more the hostile discourse of Arguposters will thrive.

It is my wish, like the Attending Physician used to say on St. Elsewhere, that we “be caring out there.”

Language and Civility

I have been thinking a lot about language, as much because my kids are at an age where they are exploring where swearing and incendiary words fit into their vernacular as because I have begun to follow commentary on various websites of late.

I will preface this by saying that this is not about politics or what is happening in my town.  This is simply an examination of how we currently as a culture communicate with one another.

In our daily lives we communicate in ways we would not have imagined years ago which both encourages and dismays me simultaneously. Cell phones, emails, text messages have all created a false sense of anonymity thus allowing people to express themselves in ways they might not or ought not to say in person.  

I was raised to use language correctly, evidenced by the many re-writes my Mother insisted upon of any essay or term paper or book report I think I ever did in school. Re-writing something I have written is so ingrained in me, that I even re-write statuses and comments I post on the web. We answered the phone with a simple hello and waited for the caller to say hello and identify her/himself we always said goodbye.   We were taught to write letters properly in school and sent thank you notes when we were given a gift even if it was a pencil case or underwear from a relative. 

Somewhere along the way, much like when leaving one’s trash behind at the movies, using as little language as possible in our communications seems to have trumped politeness and kindness in some instances and the brevity of  such communications seem to have further divided many of us rather than the idea of worldwide connection with the internet, etc.

When we sent a quick text without a hello, or we shoot off an email on Facebook without a “Dear So&So” and with a “Love” or “Sincerely” because it’s easier to just shoot of the information and end it with an LOL, <3 or a smiley face, we lose some of the simple connection to one another.

When we post comments in connection with article or a blog or an opinion piece and we use either abbreviations and profile names rather than our own a little bit more of language is lost.  When comments are posted without fact or with personal attacks that when read together look like adults bickering like kindergartners it demonstrates yet another erosion of language. 

We have allowed the internet and cellular phones to encourage ill-mannered behavior to flourish. We have allowed simple electronic communication to be the norm.  We have allowed verbal garbage on the floors of our public theater. We have made swearing at one another acceptable because we use emoticons or abbreviations to do so. When polite communication using the English language with proper grammar flourishes we at the very least can find some common ground. 

As many varieties of flowers that exist, so are the opinions of those who post on the internet.  Many disagree on all kinds of subjects near and dear to our hearts.  Opinions on important subjects tend to come with personal attacks and spewing of sometimes brutish verbiage designed, I would imagine somehow having the last word or making someone with whom they disagree leave the discussion.

We can stop the shouting and talking at each other via LOLs (laugh out loud) and IDKs (I don’t know) and ROFLs (rolling on the floor laughing) and pick up the phone and speak or better yet meet in person imagine what can happen.

Language.  It can divide us or in the alternative unite us.  I vote for the latter yet fear we are moving toward the former.  Remember what your Mother said and “mind your language.”

Dipping My Toe in The Pond

My name is Becki and I am a single Mom to two magical people who are smack dab in the midst of teendom. That they grew under my heart does not, in any way, influence my opinion at all. 

We live in East Haven, Connecticut with our dog, band instruments, baseball bats, an abundance of legos, colored pencils and a recent influx of really cool markers, socks that accumulate at an alarming rate and laughter. We live with lots of love and laughter in our house. If you ever have the privilege of raising children I highly recommend raising funny and/or smart children. I will further assert that my children are who they are in spite of me, so I am grateful that I my kids ended up in my nest.

In the spirit of partial disclosure, I think of this as a “get to know me” so I can rant and pontificate unbridled in this blog. I am nice most of the time, messy a lot of the time, early for most things, angry at mean people, terrible at math and really good at procrastinating (Olympic caliber). I wish I was a better person but if I have a conviction about something, it’s unlikely I can be swayed but I will listen with an open mind. I hate being wrong or scared or cold and those padiddles (cars with only one working headlight) fall under the category of pet peeve.

I will wax poetic about my job search, politics (though let’s face it I am a babe in the woods compared to some really smart people), motherhood, dating when you are close to an aarp card, kindness and justice, pop culture references (and to the embarrassment of my friend Shannon, Star Wars will, in fact, come up), friendships, my dog and the annoying things that make up being a redhead. 

As to the title, when I was in second grade my parents were going to back to school night and it was really important to me, apparently, that my parents see my bunny. Given that we made bunnies, I can only assume it was near Easter. And in that vein, I was very specific about where my bunny was, as if they were incapable of reading my name or asking the teacher. It was the third bunny from the right next  to the pencil sharpener.

And now you know where my bunny was.