Because I Enjoy Beating Dead Horses...

When I pictured the family I might (but probably not) have one day, I wanted four girls. I have two sisters, and I can't imagine life without them (especially my baby sister - we were raised like twins until we were old enough to figure out the difference - just a peek into why I am the way I am HA!). I wanted my girls to have the sister experience, too, but with a fourth added in to sometimes even things up; you know, two-against-two sometimes instead of two-against-one (which could backfire into a three-against-one, but that would never happen in my idyllic world. Also, FOUR KIDS?! WTF was I thinking??).

When we found out that The Wee Little Man was a little man, I cried. Alone, of course, because it's incredibly shallow to cry over the gender of your baby (that was sarcasm, in case you didn't catch it).  He didn't fit in to my perfect family. I don't know how to play with boys. The Wee Miss is supposed to have sisters! They won't bond as closely as sisters or brothers would!

You know what? I was wrong.

These two are never without the other. When one cries, the other cries. They're constantly hugging and kissing (and hitting and yelling at) each other. Whatever one is doing, the other has to be there, too. The only times they're apart is during Mr. Man's nap (and even that's a big production since she has to read him a story now, his little face pressed against the rails of the crib, his little arm reaching out for her, while they smile and laugh at each other) and Missy's dance classes. 

Let's pause for an epiphany: Just like me and my sisters!!

Now that I've set the scene, let's proceed to the dead horse beating, shall we? I'd ask the viewers to take a minute to read the following article, and then another minute to bash your head against something hard in protest of this man's heartbreaking stupidity.

http://www.foxnews.com/health/2011/04/11/j-crew-plants-seeds-gender-identity/#content

In this article, Dr. Keith Ablow takes a wide sweep of his arm and attempts to brush all progress, all understanding, all equality for GLBT lifestyle into the garbage.  He takes a swing at mothers (and at one mother in particular) who are raising their children to be who they are instead of who we want them to be.

Dr. Ablow makes an outrageous claim that allowing little boys to wear nailpolish and wear sundresses will lead to serious psychological problems:

"Well, how about the fact that encouraging the choosing of gender identity, rather than suggesting our children become comfortable with the ones that they got at birth, can throw our species into real psychological turmoil—not to mention crowding operating rooms with procedures to grotesquely amputate body parts?"

REALLY?!

This entire article makes me angry, but especially the part I've quoted. What if your child isn't comfortable with the gender they got at birth?  Wouldn't denying them to be who they feel they really are (a girl trapped in a boy's body, for example, just to stay in line with Dr. Ablow's article) do more psychological harm than allowing the little boy to wear dresses?? "No, Honey. There is something really wrong with you. I don't care if you feel confident, take that dress off - it's wrong for you to wear it." Yes, Dr. Ablow, I can see how the slow and constant beating of a child's self-esteem and self-worth would be a much better route to go for his psychological well being.

Now, to bring things back around, I didn't want any sons. But you know what? Tough titty said the kitty when the milk ran dry! I got one. AND he's freaking awesome I might add. But we don't get to pick and choose our perfect family. We don't have a say in who our children are at their core. As parents, we have a tremendous (staggering, indimidating, daunting..) responsibility to shape our children into functioning members of society, but you can't force someone to change who they are unless you break them.

So who cares if your little guy likes to wear dresses? What's the big deal if your daughter wants to wear boxer shorts instead of Strawberry Shortcake undies? They're still your funny, bright, curious child, maybe with a sensitive side or a wicked temper; their clothing or appearance does not change what's on the inside. The problem with allowing children to express themselves is the parent's problem, alone. Don't make your issues your child's problem.

My little man gets his toenails painted regularly, and he wears dresses when playing Pwincesses with his big sister.  If he's thirty years old still wearing dresses and nail polish, who is it hurting? You? Me? Certainly not him.

When it comes to our kids, we get what we get...and what we get is perfect.