April 26, 2006

Forget Mommy Wars; I’ve got a new cause

"Mommy Wars" have been popping up everywhere lately. Here, here, and here are just a few of the people who are talking about it. If you don’t feel like clicking on all of the links, I’ll just summarize for you. They’re mostly saying let’s stop talking about it because frankly, it’s getting pretty old. Amalah had a virtual fist fight going in her comments section the other day about them. You can even go here to find a link to a petition to call a cease fire in the Mommy Wars. (Go sign, but come right back.)

The problem seems to be simple, at least for the Mommy Wars in the blogging world. For the most part, working Mom’s who get upset and offended are reading into what Stay at Home Mom’s are saying and vice versa. Of course, there are some really rude people out there; but the majority of women out there mean no one else any harm by what they say. I’m going to say one last thing about it, and then I’m moving on. If you are a mother, repeat after me: Whatever I choose to do with my life in regards to my children is my business and mine alone.

Every mother will always think that her decision is the best and wisest one. There will even be some who try to push their views on other people. There are MANY who will read or hear something completely neutral; and because they have made the opposite choice and are feeling insecure about their decision, will feel the need to berate a perfectly well-meaning person who meant absolutely nothing derogatory in her statement. This, unfortunately, is what a lot of women do. This is the reason why for the longest time my best friends were always guys. They lack the catty gene. It’s a good thing. I am NOT a catty person; and I don’t really get along with people who are. My female friends whom I hold near and dear are very much like me when it comes to the whole anti-cattiness thing (if that’s even a word.)

So, I’d like to declare a new war. . . one that all mothers: working at home, stay at home, working out of the home can agree on and relate to completely. It is the cause to unite all mothers under one collective motherly roof. . . against those who believe that all baby girls are born with braids, and all baby boys are born with buzz cuts. Let me explain.

The other day I took my daughters out to a store with me. Lil C, who is 6 months old, was wearing: a short sleeved lavender silk sweater, white boot cut pants with little purple flowers on them, and a white lacy bib. As I was checking out, an older woman came over and started talking to Lil C. Our conversation went like this:

Older woman: "A boy, huh?" (and nods in Lil C’s direction.)

Me: (Sighs disgustedly and forcibly looks at Lil C’s extremely GIRLY outfit and then at woman. Thinks in head, "Yeah, because everyone I know dresses little boys in lace bibs and purple flowers. Also, silk is the new denim, and by the way, you’re an idiot," but actually I say. . . ) Girl (with a terse eye roll).

Older woman: (as if she’s offended) "Well, where’s its hair?"

Me: (Thinks in head, "Yeah, because every female baby I know is born with freaking pony tails LADY, and actually THIS BABY is not an IT!!!!!!!! She is my beautiful baby girl and she has PLENTY of hair." But what I actually do is. . .) Glare at woman and walk away.

The same thing happened when Big I was about Lil C’s age. We were in a grocery store. She was wearing a pale yellow sun-suit with pink and purple flowers on it. An older lady said, "A boy?" and I had to restrain myself. It seriously gets under my skin. Why are all babies boys? I mean, I know that some people (o.k., I admit it, I) always call dogs or cats by one gender in particular. But that’s a whole lot less obvious. It’s not polite to look between the legs of anything, including a dog or cat; and it doesn’t count because animals don’t wear clothing (unless of course, we’re talking about Paris Hilton’s dog and then it’s probably pretty obvious what the gender is anyway). Later that night I told my husband what happened and how annoyed I was. He had a good solution for me. It goes something like this:

Older woman: "A boy, huh?"

Me: "Girl, sir."

It goes like this if the offender is male:

Man: "A boy, huh?"

Me: "Girl, ma’am."

I am so using this next time. So, this brilliant husband of mine goes along to karate tonight. We were working on sparring. I was working with my instructor and Big I was working with a 9-year old girl who has a very unisex haircut. To his credit, she also had a helmet on at the time; and he wasn’t present during the beginning of class when this girl was talking a lot, obviously a girl. As Big I stood there refusing to make a move, my husband encouraged her by saying, "Go ahead; punch, hit, you won’t hurt him." The girls mother was sitting next to him and offered a simple, "Her." Now, I can’t blame my husband here. Anyone could have make this mistake.

But with a baby, it’s a lot easier to tell. Even when you can’t, there are easy ways to find out. When I’ve been in a situation where you just simply can’t tell, I’ll say something like, "Aww, how old is your baby?" The mother will usually respond with, "He’s 6 months old," or "She’s 6 months old." The door is now wide open for you to say, "Well, she’s adorable." You didn’t know, but you found out without making the mother want to drop you in the aisle at Wal-Mart.

Here are some other clues that the baby you’re inquiring about just might be a girl:

She’s wearing pink or lavender.
She’s wearing a floral bib that says, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" (Seriously, I had someone ask me if she was a boy while wearing this bib.)
There is lace on any part of her body: socks, bib, hat, etc.
She’s wearing a swimsuit, not trunks. Honesty, I had someone ask me if Lil C was a boy while wearing this:

It has a ruffle PEOPLE! A RUFFLE! There’s another one:

Boys don’t wear ruffles. If the baby has a ruffle on socks, pants, shirt, swimsuit, dress. . . the baby is a girl.
It may seem obvious, but if the baby is wearing a dress, the baby is a GIRL!!!!

So, are you with me Mommy’s? I’m sure it is equally annoying when someone identifies a baby boy as a girl. So, let’s all bond together with a common disgust for those who cannot tell the gender of our babies, against those who refuse to find out in any polite sort of way. Mommy Wars are exhausting: this whole gender war thing could be a whole lot more fun!