Hugging or Not?

I've blogged about this before, that a child has a right to decide if they want to physically interact with another person, be they child, adult or grandparent, but reading this article about a what a hug did inside of a church brought a whole additional piece to the puzzle.

In the story a child complained about an adult volunteer hugging her.  She told her mother, who spoke with the pastor and then the pastor spoke to the volunteer.  The next time the child encountered the volunteer, however, the adult forced another hug and a 'pinky-swear' not to tell mommy.  Luckily this child told her mother.  The church moved forward with an official notice to the Department of Social Services and all heck broke loose.

I am a firm believer that my child does not have to physically interact with another person she does not want to.  I am also a firm believer in being polite.  Not touching someone does not mean we don't say hello, make eye contact or otherwise engage in meaningful interchange.  But there is a line we cross when we engage with another person physically.

There are lots of arguments for and against the hugging controversy.  Yup, that's right, I called it a controversy.  Like we don't have enough on our plates that we are judging other people for whether their child shows the 'right' kind of affection the 'right way'?

From a Jewish perspective it's all a matter of Leviticus 18:6 through 18:19.  This torah portion is the direct start of the idea of Negiah or not touching between men and women.  Specifically Leviticus says:

"No man shall come near to any of his close relatives, to uncover [their] nakedness. I am the Lord."

It's interesting to note that it says 'come near' not just nakedness.  This shows us that there is, in fact, a proper level of removal between family members of a certain age. We do not follow Negiah, but it's interesting that the idea of not coming in close contact is very readily written and codified in Jewish law for us to fall back on.  This separation is even true during birth and labor, and interestingly enough when one of the partners in a marriage is observing Shiva.  One of these days I'm going to enlighten the world as to the gift of shiva to a grieving person...

Back to the topic at hand.  If you read those articles, you might have noticed some people complaining about how this is ruining their apologies too.  We already know how I feel about forced apologies.  The idea that you are ending your forced apology with a forced 'hug it out' scenario is just so incredible to me that I don't even know where to start. 

Now don't get me wrong.  I'm not raising your children.  If you have a policy inside your home that your children hug it out when they apologize, good for you.  That's just not for me or my children.  So don't try to force your ideals onto my children either at the park of the classroom or the synagogue.

Of course the thing that I think is most startling about the article is that they seemed to entirely skip over the part where the volunteer adult told the child to 'pinky-swear' that they wouldn't tell their parents.  Red flag anyone?  Let's not even get started on secrets...this post is already getting to long.

Here's a cute hug to leave you with...because despite this post, I really do love Hugging!

All photos by Laura Layera, LuluPhoto

Women Power Parsha

Have you read this weeks Parsha?    As a mother of daughter's this is one of those parsha's that don't seem to be discussed very much, but has a profound impact upon the rights of women everywhere.  Chapter 27 is when the four righteous daughters of  Zelophehad stand up for their rights of inheritance and it's shown that sons and daughters have equal rights to what was their fathers.

Chapter 27

1The daughters of Zelophehad the son of Hepher, the son of Gilead, the son of Machir, the son of Manasseh, of the families of Manasseh the son of Joseph, came forward, and his daughters' names were Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah.		אוַתִּקְרַבְנָה בְּנוֹת צְלָפְחָד בֶּן חֵפֶר בֶּן גִּלְעָד בֶּן מָכִיר בֶּן מְנַשֶּׁה לְמִשְׁפְּחֹת מְנַשֶּׁה בֶן יוֹסֵף וְאֵלֶּה שְׁמוֹת בְּנֹתָיו מַחְלָה נֹעָה וְחָגְלָה וּמִלְכָּה וְתִרְצָה:
2They stood before Moses and before Eleazar the kohen and before the chieftains and the entire congregation at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting, saying,		בוַתַּעֲמֹדְנָה לִפְנֵי משֶׁה וְלִפְנֵי אֶלְעָזָר הַכֹּהֵן וְלִפְנֵי הַנְּשִׂיאִם וְכָל הָעֵדָה פֶּתַח אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד לֵאמֹר:
3"Our father died in the desert, but he was not in the assembly that banded together against the Lord in Korah's assembly, but he died for his own sin, and he had no sons.		גאָבִינוּ מֵת בַּמִּדְבָּר וְהוּא לֹא הָיָה בְּתוֹךְ הָעֵדָה הַנּוֹעָדִים עַל יְהֹוָה בַּעֲדַת קֹרַח כִּי בְחֶטְאוֹ מֵת וּבָנִים לֹא הָיוּ לוֹ:
4Why should our father's name be eliminated from his family because he had no son? Give us a portion along with our father's brothers. "		דלָמָּה יִגָּרַע שֵׁם אָבִינוּ מִתּוֹךְ מִשְׁפַּחְתּוֹ כִּי אֵין לוֹ בֵּן תְּנָה לָּנוּ אֲחֻזָּה בְּתוֹךְ אֲחֵי אָבִינוּ:
5So Moses brought their case before the Lord.		הוַיַּקְרֵב משֶׁה אֶת מִשְׁפָּטָן לִפְנֵי יְהֹוָה:

Now I'm not saying that everything is roses here.  The text goes on to say that if a man has no sons then his daughters inherit, but if he has no daughters than his brothers (not sisters) get it.  If not a brother than his uncles (not Aunts) and so on.  But I'm still going to chalk this up to a victory for women everywhere.  

This is big news.  That these five sisters banded together to come to Moses and Eleazar (not to mention the entire congregation of the meeting) and say before all that they believed they were entitled to something.  Not just something, but everything.  They didn't want to share the inheritance with their Uncles, they stood up for themselves, and women and daughters everywhere, to get what was their due.

Now I'm not going to go into the legalistic quibbles about whether these women had to marry their cousins in order to inherit (which is probably true, since we talk about that a few pages later.)  It's a moralistic quandry to be sure, but not the message I'm trying to relate.

All to often I'm talking with EG about speaking up, getting across her point and using her words.  Here five women stood amongst men to claim what was theirs.  And rightfully so.

Additionally these are five sisters (shout out to H5!) who have eachother's backs.  Imagine what would have happened if four had stood together.  That means they are really all standing apart. 

There is a special bond between sisters (love you Becca!) and I want EG to embrace that bond with Ocho.  There will be many moments of difficulty, but this torah story illustrates that it's possible to stand-up to speak up and to stand together as one.  

Now EG and Ocho aren't quite ready for this story, but I think this YouTube video sums the parsha up fairly well, and puts the focus where I think it should be- the victory of women's rights and the idea of speaking up for your self.

Judaism on Turning Three

There is a little known celebration in Judaism for when a child turns three.  No, let me correct that, for when a boy turns three. (yes, there is more to that, yes I'll get to it.) 

There is a statement in the Talmud that compares men to trees, and according to the Torah (commandment 'orlah') you aren't supposed to take fruit or cut a tree until it's third season.  So, since boys are like trees, we don't cut a boys hair until he turns three.

Seems simple, at least when you look up the term Upershin, it seems like a simple little haircut. 

But the reality is so much more...

I went to my first Upershin this past week.  It was absolutely stunning.  The decor, the atmosphere, the celebration.  I love the people who's son we were celebrating.  I have nothing but goodwill and heart-felt congratulations for them.  But I have a lot of problems with an upershin.  And no, none of them have to do with the hair.

The thing they don't really convey with all of their definitions of haircutting is the underlying premise of the whole exercise.  A child's change from being an observer of mitzvot to beginning to learn mitzvot and be responsible for creating good in the world.

Go back and read that again.  Yup.  That's the ticket.  This is what we're really celebrating at an upershin.  It goes way beyond a boy wearing a kippah and tzitzit.  This boy is going to start his formal education in Judaism and start to learn what he needs to know to be a Jewish adult.  Because remember, we only have until he's 13 to teach him everything he needs to know on that score.  We are taking him education in hand today, and starting to impress upon him the gloriousness that is Judaism and Torah.

So let's get back to the real issue.  Why is this only for boys?

It just so happens that an Upershin would be perfect for EG.  My darling daughter hasn't had her hair cut since she's been born.  We have been telling her since she's started asking that she gets her hair cut at three.  Why three you ask- Working Dad just picked that number  at random.  Coincidence?

There is another theory out there about why we wait until three to cut a boys hair.  Again starting at commandment 'orlah' but branching out in a totally different direction.  The Torah is the Tree of Life, and since we are commanded not to partake of the fruits of a tree for the first three years of growth, so it would go that in the first three years of our lives the lessons of the Torah, or the 'fruits of the Tree of Life', is off limits to us.  Torah isn't always easy.  It's not like reading Spot.  At age three, the theory is, our understanding has developed enough to begin learning Torah.  We finally get a taste of the fruit from the 'Tree of Life.'

At the upershin it's customary to have the child start his Torah study right there- usually with a Hebrew alphabet covered in honey.  It's a celebration of the start of an obligation.  That's right, a celebration of an obligation.  On Sunday he didn't need to wear tzitzit, but on Monday he does.  And by celebrating it in this way it makes it something joyous to do, not a negative association.

Now I would be amiss if I didn't point out that there's a tradition that a girl starts lighting candles when she turns three, but somehow the impact of lighting candles and what happens at an upsherin are vastly different.  It's also cloaked in halachic confusion, and also intensely clear that even if you support her lighting the candle her candle cannot count for the obligation to perform the mitzvot.

It all comes down to how we teach our girls what it means to be Jewish at our earliest opportunities.   Singing songs about Ama lighting candles and Abba going to shul; Challah-making for girls, Torah study for boys.

I don't want EG or Ocho to think that Torah isn't sweet.  I want them to have the fruits of the Torah as well.  I want both of my girls to delight in baking challah, learning Talmud, questioning tradition and talking to G-d.  I want all the opportunities of a Jewish life to come easily to them both.  

I could only find one other account of a Jewish girls Upsherin.  While we won't be having her haircut be part of this ritual, I'm determined to celebrate my daughter's transition from babyhood to childhood.  I'm determined to find the spirit in the Upershin and bring it out in EG. 

Here's to a haircut!

5 best gifts for a three year old.

or...at least my three year old.  Yup- My darling EG is turning three this weekend.  I can't believe it's been that long since I gave birth to her, and that she's growing up so fast.  It seems like only yesterday I was getting married, and that just before that I was pregnant for the first time.

In honor of my darling EG, I would like to present her hearts desires:

1. Chapstick.

 

 Specifically the EOS brand of adorable ball chapstick that she's seen Mommy carrying around.  She's been asking me for a while for her own, and somehow I said, when you are three.  And she's turning three, so I guess I'll have to get her some.  It's not cheap as far as chapstick goes, and lord knows that she ends up eating at least half of it since she's decided that it needs to cover her chin too, but this Lemon version has SPF 15, so at least that's something...

2.  Pillow.

EG has been wanting a pillow forever.  I didn't realize that she needed a special one, so the first one I bought at Bed Bath and Beyond was a total bust.  She hated it, I hated it.  What a diaster.  So, I snuck that one away and out came the now famous words "not until you are three."  Which is this week.  So I've decided to buy this Kinder Fluff pillow. Reviews are great, it's not that expensive, and I think she'll like it.  And it will also stop her from using the decorative owl pillow I bought her, which can't be good for her or the pillow anymore.

3. Flip Flops

This is the only thing that she desperately wants that I am taking great pains to buy nice for her.  While the pillow is also a practical thing, I'm not sure it's really practical for her, but flip flops- a necessity at this point.  Everyone else in the family has rainbows, so EG isn't any exception.  I debated buying them online, but with the store so close to Great Grandpa in San Clemente, I think we'll get them in person for her.  She's totally psyched about having them.  Just a little backstory- we've been avoiding getting them because she hated things between her toes, but I think she'll be okay now.

4. A Haircut

MikaelWiman

EG has been wanting to get a haircut for at least a year now.  It all started when Janie and Joe's haircutting moved into the neighborhood.  We go to that park, and when we go she would see all the toys and really want to go in there.  Then Jacob (her cousin) gets haircuts all the time- she wants to be like him.  But Working Dad is so against haircuts.  And luckily for me there is a tradition in Judaism to get your haircut at three years old.  Yes, I know what you are thinking- that tradition only applies to boys.  Well, it's a tradition, not a law.  And anyways if we're not supposed to cut trees for three years, then I'll associate my daughter with a tree if I want to.  So here's to next Saturday's haircut!  Let's hope she likes it when it's all said and done.

5. Strawberry Cake

PetitPlat - Stephanie Kilgast

Yup my girlie is specifying the cake she wants already.  Of course, it was really the only thing I've let her specify about this party.  So I guess I'll do my best to beg, borrow, or bake one for her.  It will be a bit hard to do the baking, since I've packed up most of my packing pans.  I think Suzy Cakes will have to do for this year...  But doesn't this look yummy?

 

Kidnapping Kids

Have you been following the Joey Salads viral video about child abductions?  If you haven't it's likely because you haven't been on facebook today because that video is everywhere.

I am a free-range parent.

I acknowledge that my children can talk to strangers.  In fact, they see me talking with strangers ALL THE TIME.  The person at the grocery store, the guy at Home Depot this morning with the doggies. 

I don't teach my kids not to talk to strangers.

I teach my children that they cannot go anywhere without talking to me. That includes the next door neighbors house (not strangers), the backyard (totally fenced in), and the front yard (no fence) without my knowing about it.  That they can talk to anyone they want to, but they may not leave the area we have discussed without talking to me first. 

I really want to address the statement he makes at the end of the video, about how 700 kids are abducted each day.  This is CRAZY!  There are less than 150 stranger child abductions a year.  Yup- that's right.  Less than 150 kids A YEAR are taken by strangers.  Most of the child abductions that occur are not by true strangers.  43% are by female relatives (aka moms?) and another 20% are by acquaintances (coaches, teachers, babysitters, neighbors).

Want the real truth on child abductions?

PS- back to you Joey, for just a moment. Don't you think it's possible that these kids saw you talk to their moms?  Don't you also think that they looked at their moms, and expected their moms to intervene if there was a problem- as a social 'experiment' this stunk!

PPS- Joey is a comedian who does pranks, so I'm not thinking he's a great resource for parenting advice...

Chatting with EG

Sometimes it's wonderful to get a chance to just chat with your kiddos.  That's how you hear things like this...

"When I grow up I want to be a cart lady (someone who puts the carts away at the grocery store) and Super Man.  And a bottle- that way I can be super with wheels and a straw."

"When I get little you can carry me in your other backpack (baby Bjorn) just like you do with Susie."

"My Daddy's name is Uncle Working Dad. "

"I have two babies.  One is Aunt Susanne and the other is Takeo."

"When I get big I can be a Daddy"

"For my birthday I want my own chapstick.  And a stick"

I just can't believe how much she's growing, and changing and becoming a little adult.

These moments are RUNNING full steam ahead....

Hurry Up: Childhood is leaving

Have you ever had one of those moments when you are hurrying along your children, only to realize that there is absolutely no reason.  You probably know what I'm talking about- the grocery store, the library, all those everyday moments.

When you feel like you have to move move move.  Get it done, get to the next place, and your hurrying the world along. Or at least you are trying to.

Sometimes it's when you are trying to make dinner, and all she wants to do is help you do it.  She wants to stir, or see, or help.  And all you want is to get it done...

These moments- childhood is slipping away.  The teaching moment, the enjoyable moment.  The moments to see her for who she is, and what she's becoming.  Because she's growing up in these moments.  When you are worried about overcooking the sauce, she's learning how she should behave in the kitchen.  She's learning about why you make dinner- for the family, for her father...for an obligation?

I'm constantly amazed at how much she grasps, changes and grows each and everyday.  How she learns to communicate, share and become the girl she is growing up to be.

I want her to be strong, proud, and eager.  I want her to take life by the hands and giggle.  I don't want to tell her not to get dirty before dinner- I want her to explore the world, and not worry about the laundry.  But it's hard.

It's oh so hard....

They are moving faster than the speed of light it seems.  Just yesterday I would swear that Ocho was born, and yet here she is, moving, growing, learning, reacting.  Here they both are, becoming the sisters I've always wanted them to be.  Kind, thoughtful, imaginative.  Turning towards each other for fun, games, and frivolity.  But also when things are hard.  Caring, growing, concerned.  Helping each other through the rough times that can happen in life.

How do they learn these things?  It's those moments when I'm trying to hurry up.  When we need to get dressed to get out of the house- when I would rather be by myself than reading her another story (or the same one for the 15th time).  When it seems easiest just to cut my losses and run.  They are learning.  How to treat each other, how to deal with set-backs.  How to be who they will be.

And though it seems impossible, each moment is one we can't get back.  Each moment they get one step closer to adults and further away from children. Ocho is closer to being one than she is to being born.  And it's amazing.

It's watching her remember something for the first time.  It's seeing her light-up at the sight of her daddy or her sister. It's helping her understand that just because I'm not with her, I still love her, I'm still with her in her heart.

It's teaching them both that they can't take back these moments.  It's helping them see the beauty and the grace in everyday obligations.  Helping them see that childhood is leaving, so we better hurry up and enjoy the moment.

All photos the work of Laura Layera, Luluphoto.

Telling (or Not) the story of Purim

Old & New by Lindsey McCormack

I've been trying to tell EG the story of Purim now for a few days.  She's got the basics (you should hear her say Mordechai, so proud!) but it's the nuances I'm having a hard time telling.  The Purim story isn't all giggles and happiness.  In fact, it's one of those iffy stories that I'm almost to worried to tell her.  If this were a Disney movie, you can bet I wouldn't be taking her to see it.  Let's review:

The Killings:

1. The first thing that happens in the story is drunken debauchery.  The second thing is the killing of the queen.  Who did nothing except decide that she wouldn't parade around naked in front of strangers because her husband told her to.  I totally want EG to be Vashti, except that death thing.  How do you explain that death thing?
2. Murder plots to kill the King.  I'm not saying I'm a fan of King Ahasuerus, but murdering the man in power.  Not exactly a message I want EG to get in her mind.  Mutiny in the household anyone? Then a few lines later we hang these people from a tree.  Okay, they were bad guys, but it's a lot of killing.
3. We hang Haman from the gallows that are intended for the Mordechai.  Okay, that might be fine, he's the bad guy here.  But what about the looting, pillaging and death the Jews exact upon the rest of the city.  Sure, the King says he couldn't reverse his decree, so we had to fight back.  That might seem fine, except we did more than protect ourselves.  According to the story we went out deliberately to kick some butt.  We killed and killed and killed.  Then we did it again on the second day.

The Lies: 

1. Mordechai and Esther are husband and wife.  Or at least Rashi says they were. So, so so many things wrong with this message.  That you can just abandon your wife or that the vows you took on your wedding day can be annulled for a little while because it's convenient for you.
2. Esther is a Jew.  You know this, I know this, and she knows this.  Yet somehow when she decides to enter this beauty contest to marry the king (you know, as an already married woman should) and then just not mention it.  And it's not like this wasn't something that should have been brought up.  She chooses to deliberately withhold this information, like it's something we should hide about ourselves.

The Treatment of Women:

1. I've already discussed the unjust murder of Vashti, so that's square one.  But beyond that, we start out with a beauty contest to determine the next queen.  Not that beauty contests are a problem, per se.  It's the fact that this is a legitimate and believable way to choose a queen or a mate that I have issues with.  I don't want EG thinking that the most important part of her is her looks. (of course, the research says I shouldn't tell her she's smart either...)
2. The fact that Esther has to wine and dine her man to make a request also seems a bit trite to me.  Yes, you can explain it away that he's not really her man, Mordechai is.  But then we've come full circle to the problems of women in this story.

But at the end of the day, it does have at least one redeeming factor: The Heroine...Esther initially doesn't want to do anything.  She tells Mordechai that she can't go in front of the King without death.  And he tells her that he's not worried.  His faith in G-d is so great that he knows that somehow they will be saved.  She responds that she will take the plunge, but that she won't go it alone.  This is where things get interesting, and the morals behind the tale take on a surprising turn towards the good.

Esther must approach the King by herself.  Only she can speak the words to him.  Only she can attempt to sway him.  However, before she does so, she asks that everyone in the community fast for three nights and days.  They they join with her, and help her in spirit to accomplish her task.  

The moral of the day, or at least the one I'll be trying to get across to EG this year, is that just because you are scared doesn't mean you can't do it.  Just because you think you can't doesn't mean that when others join with you, that you can't.  You can stand-up. You can have help.  You can overcome.

Throwback Thursday: Theodore

When I was a little girl, around 2-3 years old, my mom gave me a CareBear.  She didn't just give me a CareBear, she also gave one to my two best friends at the time- Ilana and Janine.  I sure wish that in all the photos I've been sorting I could find one of the three of us with our bears... maybe...

I present to you, Theodore:

Quite possibly my best and oldest friend.  That's right, he still sleeps on my bed at night.  He became named Theodore when we were in London on my sisters Bat Mitzvah trip.  I remember thinking that calling him Teddy (which was his name until that point) just wasn't a name enough.  He needed to be something more sophisticated, something better.  So, Theodore.

He's amazing. He survived a dog attack (thank you Becky Wilson!), being kidnapped from my bed at camp and soccer overnights.  He's still here through boyfriends, roommates, kids and everything in between. He's never been judgmental, or cruel.  He's always there for a hug.

My husband says I only have two settings- barnacle or golden retriever.  Theodore doesn't mind.  He doesn't have any hair on top of his head because I chewed it all off between the ages of 3-5.  He's just about bald, but unlike Working Dad, he doesn't mind his receding hairline.

When my mom died and I thought I couldn't ever sleep again, he brought me comfort.  When there seems to be no one else to turn to, no one who will hold me long enough for all the sobs to leave my body- there is Theodore.

For good or bad, through thick and thin there he has always been for me. The gift of love that my mom passed along.

So this year, since EG is between 2-3 years old and happens to also have two best friends, I thought I would try to pass along the magic of Theodore to her and her friends...

I give you three girls with three purple bears:

These girls have come to mean a lot not only to EG, but also to me and Working Dad.  They were her first friends in daycare, now people with whom our daughter shares playtime, laughs and fun.  I hope that they might be in our lives for a long time.  But mostly, I hope that her teddy bear might become as important to her as mine is to me.

Of course, there is no way to convince EG to love her teddy bear as I have mine- and I'll share with you that of the three, Theodore doesn't happen to be the 'best' loved of the three.  But he is mine, and by giving one to EG, I hope she gains the kinship of teddy bear.  A love that knows no bounds, has no boundaries, and transcends earthly space and time.  I hope that when bad things come her way, as I know they will, she can hug him and hold him, and remember that she is loved and oh so special.

Do you want a special bear to give to a special child in your life?  Happy Holidays- enter below for a chance to win and celebrate the New Year with a new friend.  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hand-me-down Clothes

I have been blessed with two beautiful daughters, both of which I am enamoured with.  My sister has been blessed with two adorable boys.  Both of whom are handsome and wonderful.  Unfortunately, my mother had no sons.  Therefore all of the hand-me-downs from our childhood are currently residing in my house.  And I totally love them.

I've put EG in the clothes as the years' have gone by, and I've also started to put Ocho in them as she fits into them.  It's been harder with Ocho, she's got a completely different style of body than EG did when she was a baby.  Ocho is already sleeping in nine month PJ's, but she's juts five months old. 

This pink dress is the one that my sister had formal photos taken in.  There's one of the photos on display in the house.  When I took these photos I had that photo of her in mind.  I realize its not the same, but seeing my daughters wear clothing that was ours really warms my heart.  I know my mom loved seeing my girls in the dresses she kept.  She kept them for so long, that it was so important to her.

 
Both of my girls have been in this blue dress.  I had Ocho wear it to a Chanukah party, and we took some great formal photos of EG in it when she turned six months.  The way Ocho is wearing it would make my mom proud- she was a huge fan of ruffle bottoms and showing off our tushies when we were little.  The tights that Ocho is wearing have ruffles, I promise...

This last one is one of my favorites.  It's a two piece knit outfit with little pink apples along the bust.  When I put it on Ocho I just realized that it has a small tear at the elbow... I'm going to have to get it fixed somehow.

I remember when Mom brought these outfits to me, I was really worried about having my girls wear them, especially the one that my sister wore in photos.  It's hard to keep things clean and tidy, and ensure that then they wear them they don't destroy them.  I had no idea whether my sister would have a second son, but I remember telling her that I wouldn't put my girls in the dress, just in case.  She told me to have them wear them, that it would be fine.  And, it has been.  They really don't make clothing like they used to.  Such detail, and such quality.

I try to buy one or two pieces for each of my girls that they can 'claim' as theirs.  Something that's nicer, likely to last a bit longer than most of the items we have from Carters. Who knows if they will have girls of their own, but if they do, I'll have some hand-me-downs for them.

Do you have any?  Anything you've worn that your children have also?

Dance Class

I've just started EG in a ballet/Tap dance class for 2-3 year olds.  I wasn't sure if she was old enough, but when she has dance class at her regular school (aka daycare) she really loves it.  So I took the plunge, my first actual class with a daughter.

Somehow I feel a touch odd about it- like that a girl has to do dance, and I'm putting her into a corner filled with pink and ribbons and sparkles.  But I want her to be active, and if you saw her bruises, you might also understand that getting a little bit of grace and control over her body wouldn't be a bad thing.  Growing up Girl with tutu's isn't bad- but I'm also not against soccer, or wrestling.  It's just that dance actually seems to be something she can do at 2...

 And, if I'm honest, I'm still on the fence.  We've committed for 8 weeks, and we'll definitely get that far, but I didn't really take into account all of the little things that would come with signing up for dance class.  There's the leotard (thanks Target) the tutus (Thanks Aunt Simone and Aunt Katelin) and the ballet shoes (thanks Children's Orchard).  But let's not forget about the tap shoes.

Yes, that's right, I gave my two year old tap shoes.  I'm encouraging her to beat on the ground with shoes that make things extra noisy.  Yup, with a baby in the house.  I must be INSANE!

It took me a while to find the shoes, and they weren't cheap.  While they had them at the Children's Orchard, they didn't have them in her size.  Thanks to Payless, we were golden.  And she's thanked me for them no less than 10 times.  Which is awfully sweet and totally makes me gaga over her. Makes nursing Ocho in the store that much easier too, since I know how much she appreciates them.

So far, she's loved it.  She races away from school, wants to be in her leotard each day after class, and I've been able to say that tutu's are for Dance class, not for school (which Working Dad loves, since he's not a great tutu fan).

Have your kids taken any classes?  If I was really on top of it I'd upload a few of the pictures I have of me as a kiddo in dance class.  I just found a set of my sister taken in black and white- totally gorgeous....

Want to know more? We're taking the class at Dance 1 on Artesia.  Send me a message on facebook or e-mail me (check out the CONTACT ME page) and I'll spill the beans on how you can get involved.  Yes, boys are totally welcome!

Growing Up Girl: #YesAllWomen

With the tragedies in Isla Vista this past weekend an enduring moment seems to be a twitter-feed labeled #YesAllWomen.

I'm sure you haven't managed to avoid the coverage of the story, but a brief rundown amounts to a 22 year old boy feeling slighted by all women because he is still a virgin in college.  Therefore he murders his roommates, and then takes to the streets and kills murders several more people.

I typically try to avoid hearing/reading/listening to all the coverage about gory and violent things on the internet.  I know people who live in and around UCSB, and working at UCLA has certainly made it part of our day as we returned to work.

Beyond the obvious tragedy, I've been shocked by the #YesAllWomen hashtag feed.  First that women felt the need to create a place to respond to this tragedy in this way, and show the world how prevalent these ideas are.  But beyond that, the worry that someday my own daughter might be posting to that hashtag about her own experiences.

I was a virgin until I was with Working Dad.  No, that doesn't mean I was a virgin when I got married, but I've only ever been with the man I married- the father to my children, and the light of my soul.  I honestly do believe that he is my B'Sheret, and the person that I am ultimately tied to.

But before I was with him there were lots of guys I dated.  And lots of guys who wanted to do things with me that I didn't want.  There was a moment in my life when I experienced a physical act that I didn't consent to.  I wasn't raped, but I was definitely sexually assaulted.  And it was horrible.  And I remember the reactions of friends and family members being less than ideal.  Except Working Dad.  He was there for me- as he was countless times throughout my life, and as he will be countless more times throughout my life.

Reading through the hashtag makes me nervous.

About Growing Up Girl in today's society.  How do I protect my little EG from these horrible ideas?  That she would be better off yelling 'Fire' if she needs help rather than help (@Carrie K.)  That giving out a fake phone number or telling someone she has a boyfriend are good lies to help protect herself (@katekilla & @JBRylah)

I didn't tell these men before I dated them that I was saving myself for marriage.  I didn't think I was.  I didn't tell them that we could go out on dates, and make-out and get close, and that they would never 'close the deal.'

I remember one boy telling me that he hated me because he got an STD test for me because I said that we definitely wouldn't be having sex if I didn't know both he and I had clean bills of health.  Did that mean I was going to sleep with him?  I didn't think so, but being prepared isn't a bad thing...

I certainly didn't think that the boy I got the herpes vaccine for was the one.  But I got the vaccine anyways, because I didn't want to be worried about it if the time came (it didn't.)  I didn't blame him for the pain, nor did I feel pent-up anger and frustration when it was actually he who ended it.  I finished the shots and was thankful that I was protected against one more STD and cervical cancer.

So what do I do about my little 2-year old?  Turn her into a liar?  I always told my parents the truth, sometimes regardless of how they would feel about it.  I never lied about spending the night at a boys place- these were choices I made, and I thought it was better to be on the 'up and up' rather than going behind their backs. 

How do I teach her that it's okay to reject someone?  That it's okay to say 'I'm not interested' without worrying about a stalker or a rampaging murderer?

Maybe I'm worrying about it too soon, but how do you help a 2 year old turn into a teenager who turns into an adult?

I want my sassy little girl to be empowered.  To have grit.  To know that her views, and her feelings matter, and that she doesn't have to be afraid- whether it's 2am or it's 4:30 in the afternoon. 

Of course, I used to call my Dad from Pittsburgh at 2am on the walk home.  Somehow I was comforted that he was there with me.  In my lame brain I thought if something happened he would be able to call 911 (which is actually totally ludicrous!)  I took part in my campuses semester safety walks, where the Dean of Students and the Head of Facilities would walk with interested students around the campus and give let us give inputs about where new lights and emergency telephones should  be.  I was proactive.

What do I do when she moves from pretending to do something, to actually doing it?  To setting her free in the world?

See my other posts in this series:  Growing up Girl: I can't do it, Growing Up Girl