Suburban Oblivion

I’m sure in between reruns of Dora the Explorer and Blues Clues you might have noticed Tonka’s new “Built For Boyhood” commercials. They pretty much highlight the rough-and-tumbleness of preschool boys, and how their trucks are able to hold up to that kind of abuse. I loved the commercials, and thought they nailed this one in terms of relating to moms of boys.

Seems others have not felt so warm and fuzzy about these commercials as I have. Elizabeth over at Table4Five seemed quite annoyed when she wrote in a post on Friday, “But here’s a newsflash, Tonka-Girls like playing with Tonka Trucks! It’s true! And playing with them does not cause them to grow a penis, or anything!“. (I seriously snorted tea out of my nose when I read that, btw.) This followed another, similar post over at Feminist Philosophers last month, and several I have read around the net lambasting this campaign.

I think this is one of those reasons that I just do not relate to modern feminism. Since when did it become a bad thing to market things to a specific sex? Last I checked, toy companies were not regularly featuring little boys in their commercials for toys like baby dolls, My Little Ponies, Disney Princesses, Polly Pockets, Littlest Petshop, or any other toys typically found in the ‘girls’ toy section of any given store. So why is this commercial worth such scorn? Because they actually said the word “boys” out loud, instead of just implying it by only showing little boys playing with it? Give me a break.

Maybe I’m missing something, but it’s starting to feel like anything deemed ‘male’ is coming under attack anymore. Boy Scouts are being sued to allow girls, men cannot have social clubs that women are not allowed in, and just for fun, try Googling ‘men’s gym’. Want to know what comes up most often? Men’s gym shoes. Now try ‘women’s gym’. Pages upon pages of women’s fitness centers. Why is that I wonder? Men are just not allowed to be men anymore, and I think that’s a damn shame if there ever was one.

One of these days the feminists are going to realize that there is a certain amount of androgyny that occurs in the human species, but overall, boys and girls really are VERY different creatures. As the mom to both boys and a girl, the differences between them are remarkable. My daughter is the oldest, and we have never discouraged her brothers from playing with her toys or dissuaded them from having the same interests as she. (My 4 year old was the only boy in his 4K class who listed his favorite color as pink.) Yet to watch them, they will take those same toys and find ways to fight with them, or beat each other over the head with them, no matter how I try to stop them.

So in the end, if some toy company decides to quit the game of being sly and starts actually saying the word ‘boys’ instead of just seriously, heavily implying it by VERY rarely showing girls in their commercials..Who does that hurt? Why can’t boys just be boys every once in awhile?

All new readers are welcome, and I hope you will consider subscribing to my RSS feed. Feeling sociable? Join me on Twitter, I'd love to hear from you!

Oh goodness, did she really just say what I think she said??

Several months ago I was having a bad day and venting to the Queen about my kids. They’d been driving me batty in one form or another, most likely throwing tantrums or doing their daily wrestle-till-someone-takes-it-too-far matches. Whatever the case they had me one Celexa pill away from murder, when she told my something profound, as only she can.

“Oh Sara, kids are just assholes.”

I alternated between shock that she’d just uttered the words out loud, and wanting to laugh my ass off at the sheer truth of them. How many moms haven’t called their kids a name or two under their breath as they dealt with tantrums, school problems, teenage attitudes, or any of the other joys of motherhood? It takes a better woman than I not to think a naughty thought or two when one of my kids has just broken a jelly jar on my kitchen floor, despite repeatedly telling them to get out of the fridge. And that scream I get when my two year old decides he will NOT do whatever I am telling him to do? Yeah, I’m dropping an F-bomb or three in my head then too.

Naturally I had to laugh when my blogging-buddy Cate at Monkeys and Marbles posted a Friday haiku recently mentioning how she loves her son, even when he’s being an asshole. I could appreciate the sentiment, being in the midst of Terrible Two-ness ourselves with Damian. I know Cate is a good mom, like the rest of us she would never say that to or around her son, it’s just a thought that gets her through in the hardest times. We all have our bad moments, and if the worst of them are contained in our heads, I’d say that’s doing pretty darn well.

Apparently one of her readers begged to differ. They left a comment stating “That you would ever call your child an asshole is horrible.” Either they didn’t understand Cate wasn’t ever saying it out loud, or they did and didn’t care. Cate was stung, and felt the need to explain herself, not that I really think the troll deserves it.

You show me a mom who has never thought badly about her kids, and I’ll show you someone who’s never had a two year old.

I’ve noticed being a mom is like juggling. Each child is a ball, and with each one you have to have to work to keep them balanced with each other, and with the rest of the balls you are juggling- the spouse, the home, the finances, the job, the family, the activities. Adding in depression is like trying to continue to juggle it all, but blindfolded.

I was feeling really good when I wrote my last post. The blindfold was gone, and I felt like I had all my balls in the air, so to speak. I have been happier, my kids have been happier, even my husband has been happier seeing the house looking better, me feeling better, and things overall being calmer here. We spent some time alone last night laughing and enjoying each other’s company like we haven’t in some time.

Today another ball dropped.

Seems in my recent fog I made some mistakes, and failed to keep a good eye on the checking account. We agreed awhile back that would be one of my responsibilities, and this is not the first time I’ve screwed things up. Unfortunately this screwup is going to cost us a lot of money. I am so beyond upset right now. Ian is so mad at me it’s not even funny, and I can’t blame him a bit. We go to Orlando every year for our one vacation, and I may have put that in jeopardy with this.

The only possible redeemer right now is I subbed for the first time at my boys’ preschool, and apparently did really well with it. I’m told once you get your foot in the door they will call you to work more often. I went in to the director earlier and told her I’ll take as many days as they will give me, so please keep me in mind when teachers call out. The pay isn’t outstanding, but it’s work, and I can bring my boys with me when I am there and drop them in with their teachers even if it isn’t their usual days. No nights, no weekends, no eating into family time.

Do me a favor and cross your fingers they call me often, this is one ball I have got to get back in the air.