Tempered Fragility

Disclaimer: I am not a parent. I just read a lot of blogs written by mothers.

The next time I read a blog post in which a parent worries endlessly about the new phase their child is going through, I’m going to post ‘YOUR LITTLE DARLING WILL SURVIVE. AND WILL PROBABLY GROW UP TO BE JUST AS ANXIOUS AS YOU.’ just like that, with capitals and everything.

Because frankly, I’ve had enough.

Children go through phases. Their tastes change as quickly as their moods. They are growing, and developing, and becoming real little people from the minute they’re born. Your boy-child may well like My Little Pony and playing tea-party with his stuffed animals when he is three. He might be climbing trees and catching all sorts of disgusting things for you by the time he’s four.

That’s called growth. Development. That thing that kids do.

If your daughter likes Disney princesses instead of Dora, then let her enjoy them. You have years to teach her about morals, and peer pressure, and inner beauty. There will be plenty of opportunities to show her that beautiful can mean many things, that she shouldn’t depend on men all the time, that she should make her own decisions. She’ll probably be more receptive when she’s out of nappies, anyway.

Likewise, if your son wants to do nothing more than dig in the dirt and play with toy cars, let him. Stop worrying about him thinking pink is for girls, or not wanting to play with dolls. He won’t always think like that; I’m sure you’ve matured somewhat since you were three. If you show him that men can be gentle too, that they can wear pink and cry and even feel, I think he’ll be just fine.

In short: if you’re laying awake at night wondering why your three-year-old isn’t challenging gender stereotypes at every opportunity, then you’re doing it wrong. Gender stereotypes are generalisations and they don’t apply to everyone. Stereotypical behaviour doesn’t guarantee that your child will be a helpless slave to their gender and everything it entails, either.

You, as a parent, have the most influence over the adult your child becomes.

Disclaimer #2: There are posts all over the internet where mothers (such as Her Bad Mother and Uppercase Woman) talk about this ‘issue’, but the real inspiration for this post were the hundreds (seriously) of comments left on various blogs where mothers everywhere worried, obsessed and stressed about how their little boys and girls weren’t quite the well-rounded individuals that mummy and daddy felt they should be.

Shit. This post sounds angry. I’m not angry. I’m just sick of parents worrying over every tiny thing, about stuff that shouldn’t even be an issue. When I was five, I loved wearing flouncy dresses and pretty shoes. When my grandmother let me wear lipstick, it made my day. I smiled and twirled and tra-la-laed, even. I adored Disney movies. I played with Barbie dolls and baby dolls. I wanted a prince to save me.

I’m not like that any more. I grew up; I became a different person. I like to think that I’m strong, that I can think for myself. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy, or believe that I’m worth something. I understand that women and men are equal, and I hate stereotypes, as you may have guessed. I believe that I can look beautiful without makeup and a princess dress, too.

Growth. It’s a wonderful thing.

Also? TV will not kill your child. They won’t get turned away from college because you let them watch an extra hour of whatever brain-numbing show they happen to love. Everyone watches TV. EVEN YOU. So stop worrying that you’re going to rob your kid of the chance to be the next Einstein.

I’ve had enough, Foxtel.

If it weren’t for the pesky 24-month contract you forced me into signing I would have gotten rid of you months ago. In fact, unless things change, I’ll be counting down the days until I can end my relationship with you.

We still haven’t got all of the free-to-air channels. Still no channel 7, and that means still no Ugly Betty, Grey’s Anatomy or Heroes. I’ve been waiting for months for you to get your ass up off the couch and launch your damn satellite thing. You, as far as I can tell, haven’t moved towards that goal at all.

I called tech support at the beginning of this year, because your online TV guide wasn’t working. The girl I spoke to had no idea what a plugin was; I’m not entirely convinced she knew what Firefox was, either. She basically told me she had no idea what was going on. Thank god for Google.

(P.S: It was Ad-Blocker Plus. It has to be disabled in order to view the online TV guide.)

Last month, all of my series links mysteriously vanished, right as March became April. What this means to me, is that all of my shows that had previously been automatically recording? Poof. Gone. I didn’t notice until the next time I sat down to watch and realised I’d missed two episodes of everything.

Do you want to know the real deal-breaker, Foxtel? Your new website. Full-screen, poor-quality streaming video - with sound, even. The truth? It doesn’t make you cool, or smart, or ‘cutting-edge’. It makes you that loud, over-bearing guy that everyone avoids because he comes on too strong.

I officially hate you,

Lisa. xox

So, I finally booked in for my licence test today. My aunty came to see Mum, and decided that it was time for Dwain to get his learners permit, and for me to book in for my driving test. Luckily, the earliest appointment is in September, so I have plenty of time to stress, and practice, and then stress some more.

I found some interesting information regarding Victoria’s licensing system today, at the VicRoads website. Traditionally, you can get your learners permit in Victoria when you turn sixteen. While on your ‘L-plates’, you can’ only drive with a fully licensed driver in the car. Pretty simple; all that is staying the same.

When you turn eighteen, you can take a driving test and – if you pass – get a probationary licence. Traditionally, the only restrictions on ‘P-plater’ drivers was that they weren’t allowed to have any alcohol at ALL in their system. With the addition of a two step ‘P-plate’ program, there are now other restrictions.

The first stage is called P1, and will last for one year. During that time, the following restrictions will apply:

• P1 drivers can only carry one 16 – 21 year old passenger;
• P1 drivers are not allowed to use a mobile phone at all; and
• P1 drivers aren’t allowed to tow, unless it’s for work

The second stage is P2, and will last for the standard three years. The traditional restrictions will still apply.

I admit, I wasn’t happy about the Graduated Licensing System when I first heard about it. According to VicRoads, the aim is to reduce road crashes - a large percentage of which apparently involve probationary licence holders – and they believe driving late at night, or with multiple passengers, are high-risk situations.

I could go on forever about my opinion on this, but I’m going to keep it short. Eighteen year olds like to party. When they get their probationary licence, they like to drive places, to party. And guess what? Often, they carpool. They designate a driver, and everyone goes together. VicRoads says that’s unsafe.

According to them, having more inexperienced drivers, more cars on the road and more temptation to drive drunk – since there won’t be designated drivers – is safer than a P-plater driving with other people in the car. In my opinion, that is completely ridiculous; carpooling is necessary for young drivers.

Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about it; I’m over 21, and go straight to P2.

So, I’ve been absent for a little while. Five days, to be exact, and since I usually blog everyday or every second day, that’s kind of a big deal but since no one is hanging on my every word and waiting for me to post it really doesn’t matter, right? *deep breath* Anyway. I’ll explain while I’ve been away, then we can get on with it.

A couple of months ago, I discovered some really awesome blogs. Like, read every day and have a laugh type blogs. And through those blogs, I found some more blogs, which I also quite liked. And then, just as I was sort of settling into the groove of these shiny NEW blogs, the shit hit the fan, and the blogosphere folded in on itself.

Although none of it affected me personally, seeing the drama unfold made me think. I didn’t post at first, but it was on my mind. People were being attacked, with material that they had posted, the very material that had helped forge the friendships and connections with the bloggers that were now turning on them.

Blogs were closed. Insults were thrown. Relationships were destroyed.

And I know, I’m over here in my little corner of the blogosphere, and I’m not one of the big movers and shakers. I’m not talked about, or really known about at all, and I wasn’t even personally involved, so why would it affect me? The answer is really simple: I was beginning to care about the people who were involved.

As bloggers, we share our stories and our lives freely. We put no limits on who can read about our children, our family or our relationships. We post embarrassing stories, make fun of others, and create friendships through our writing. The recent drama has proven that being so open can, will and does backfire.

In a major explosion and fanning of shit, no less.

So, for the last week, I’ve been thinking about the drama. It has made me look at my blogging differently, but not in the way you might expect. Britt recently posted - in a response to the drama, almost - something along the lines of ‘you get hurt in real life, as well as online’. She’s completely right.

Betrayal, revenge, pettiness, jealousy. Those things - those dark, sneaky and horrible things - are a part of life. They’re human traits, human emotions. And shit happens, doesn’t it? Whether it’s on the internet or during your lunch break at school, shit happens. People lie, or cheat, or break your heart.

Online and off, we survive.

Despite the potential for backlash, I am going to continue being open and honest on my blog. I will continue posting about my life, and I will do so without fear or doubt. It’s not about rights so much. It’s about strength. I know that I am strong enough to defend my online life against potential haters.

And, this week? I will go back to commenting on other people’s blogs.

It would appear that Debbie Adams, the 16 year old who fatally stabbed her cooking teacher back in 1999, is suing New South Wales for giving her access to knives. Granted, she was in a juvenile detention centre for an attack on her mother with a bread knife at the time, but does that give her the right to sue the state?

I despise many things about the world today. I know, I know; I’m only 21, what right do I have to talk about ‘the good old days’? Exactly the same rights as everyone else, as a matter of fact. Just because I was younger back in the good old days - when people took responsibility for their actions - doesn’t mean my opinion is worthless.

As I grew from a toddler to a child, and from child to teen, my mother instilled in me a quality that is apparently a rarity in today’s world: responsibility. Not only responsibility for the things I own, or the people under my care, but responsibility for my own actions, thoughts, reactions and responses. Responsibility for my self.

I have known about consequences since I was very young. It’s all very simple; say I had a toy, and in a fit of rage I threw the toy at the wall. Either the toy broke and it got thrown out, or my mother took the toy away. No matter what consequence followed, my mother made sure I knew that my action or reaction had influenced it.

What Ms. Adams did was wrong; she chose to stab her teacher with a knife while his back was to her, and as a direct result of that she was sent to prison. Regardless of how she got the knife, or what the circumstances were, she was apparently coherent and calm when the incident happened, and so should take full responsibility for it.

Should a juvenile detention centre be allowing the ‘inmates’ to handle sharp knives? Yes, absolutely! They were in a cooking class, learning skills for the outside world; something that could have benefited Ms. Adams in the future. Juvenile detention is not the ‘end of the road’, and programs are run to benefit young people there.

Should they perhaps have been watching her more closely, given that she was in juvenile detention for attacking someone with a knife? Probably, yes! The guards and teachers should have been alert and aware that she could possibly become dangerous. Does that mean the State made her do it? Not in my opinion.

For all we know, the teacher could have turned his back for a split second. Perhaps the guards were distracted, or busy with someone else. Maybe she was waiting for an opportunity, and nothing could have prevented it. Either way, Ms. Adams chose to stab her teacher; the State had nothing to do with it.

As far as I’m concerned, she should deal with the consequences of her actions.

I had a Short Story class today, and simply put? It was awful. We reviewed the stories that we had to hand in a few weeks ago, and wrote down the comments on pieces of paper. I reviewed two stories, and left what I thought were reasonable comments on both of them. One of the authors completely dismissed my comments and actually laughed at me; the other showed the page to the teacher and didn’t look happy at all.

I wasn’t harsh, I wasn’t overly critical - I mean, this isn’t literary fiction - and it was only my opinion as a reader, so I didn’t think they had any right to react that way. When I looked at the two reviews I had gotten, it was all ‘This is a nice story, I liked reading it.’ Those comments are nice to hear, but don’t really help me improve much as a writer, and Ania’s were no more critical.

Tonight’s class, especially after some comments about my age by the person who laughed at me, has left me feeling young and stupid - similar to the way I did after the first day. I don’t understand why people judge people so harshly because of things like age, gender and race. I don’t look at the older people in my class and think ‘Oh! They will never understand me, for they are old, and cannot remember being young!’

I don’t care if I looked like the biggest bitch ever, though. They asked for my honest opinion and they got it; in fact I sugar-coated it a lot more than I would want them to do for me. I understand that some people get really precious about their writing, but honestly? Those people have no place in a writing course. To be honest, I was expecting a lot less hand-holding and a lot more harsh critiquing when I started.

They also go on about making the reader understand the story properly, and if you interpret a story differently than they would like, they refuse to accept it. Those people shit me up the wall. The point of a short story (or any piece of writing, really) in my opinion, is to write something that a large majority of people can relate to, in many different ways. Readers interpret things differently; that’s a good thing.

If readers interpreted everything the same way, there would be no point writing anything at all; everything would have already been said, and only one type of writing would be popular. No one would be able to debate about the merits (or lack thereof) of books, stories or poems. If everything was viewed the same way, we wouldn’t have people who despise the Harry Potter movies because they pictured things differently.

I really hate those Harry Potter movies.

Like the title says - they really do. Before you go getting your panties in a knot, don’t assume that I’m talking about people like Heather, Becca, Melissa, or Crystal - because I’m not. See, all of the women I just listed are bloggers, that’s true. They all have children, yes. Fortunately, these women have something other than children to blog about. They don’t have ‘mommy blogs’, they are mums who blog. Big difference.

No, the blogs that piss me off, are the ones with sidebars so full of causes and competitions that your eyes hurt when you look at them. The blogs where every post is about some new child related product, or competition, or in support of a new cause. Fair enough, shit happens and donations genuinely help people - but how do these women manage to grow such a huge readership when that’s all they post?

I love reading about parents and their children - and the inevitable chaos and drama that comes with it. What I don’t like is seeing pages full of product endorsements, competitions, memes and other people’s content. *sigh* I don’t know, maybe I’m just in a bitchy mood? It just seems like those are the only types of blogs that I’ve found tonight while browsing, and it bugs the crap out of me.