How a Toy Advertisement Shook My Understanding of Who I Am

When I was in third grade, I stopped playing with dolls. Well, at least publicly. At some point it became socially unacceptable to play with dolls.

I had forgotten about this until a friend shared this video on Facebook.

My immediate reaction to this video was "Girl Power!" I was raised by a single mom who taught me feminism. She taught me to never depend on a man, to be self-sufficient and independent. Upon further reflection, I remember early reinforcement from teachers at school to go to college, develop a career and achieve personal greatness. I was taught to value womens' abilities to succeed in the workforce and girls' abilities to do every thing a boy can do.

Why, then, was I frowning by the end of the video?

The song in the video repeatedly puts down the color pink. For the record, I have never cared for the color pink. When I was pregnant with my first two children, I was emphatic that no one buy pink if the baby were to be a girl. I didn't like the gender stereotype of "Pink for Girls". Within a week of Scout being born, I realized that several shades of pink were very flattering to her complexion and began to ask for pink clothing. Now that she's two, I try to let her pick out clothing, shoes, and toys; generally she does choose the color pink.

There's also a line in the song about how girls are only given dolls to play with. You and I both know this is a generalization but as Scout has been getting older, it's become increasingly apparent how innate the urge to nurture must be. She is so careful and so loving with her dolls as she practices her mommy skills. So now I'm asking myself what is wrong with girls, or boys for that matter, playing with dolls? Don't they teach and develop empathy and kindness in our young ones?

You can hate Barbies all you want, but don't they even have a value? I remember creating elaborate story lines for my dolls as a child. Didn't that help me develop my imagination and practice my communication skills?

I'm not stating that there is no place in the market for toys that encourage girls to develop math and science skills. I am stating that the message that dolls are bad toys is dangerous.

I recently became a stay-at-home mom. It took my having three children to finally recognize that my greatest accomplishment should be the raising of my children. How did it take 6 years and the birth of three children to come to that conclusion?

I believe that as a child of the '90s, I was given the message that family and all that is girliness is socially unacceptable. I was taught to want to be independent and career-oriented--to do what the boys do. This advertisement reminded me of these messages and suddenly I have an epiphany: Have I really hated the color pink? Did I really stop playing with dolls because I didn't like them? Did I go to college because I wanted a career? Or was I just taught these values and they were so deeply embedded that I thought I was doing what I wanted?

No wonder I have been struggling with motherhood and mother love--feeling resentful that I'm not excelling in the workforce and kicking corporate butt and am wiping butts and noses instead.

It's so late in life to be questioning where my values have come from and how much sense they make, but I'm beginning to feel that maybe I've been brainwashed all along.

Early Christmas Blessings

So much to talk about. So much to write. I feel my head spinning when I think of what I want to talk about. I suppose I'll share the biggest news around here.

Our Christmas was looking a little Charlie Brownish. We have each other, a roof over our heads, love for our Lord, Jesus Christ, and the bills are paid (sort of). It didn't look like we'd get to buy the children presents. We'd already told friends and family not to expect any gifts from us. We are not going to rack up huge credit card bills that we can't afford to pay. Everyone was very kind and understanding.

I only had enough money to spend about $20 on Evan. Not much, but enough for him to have three very small gifts under the tree. I had cleverly hidden Evan's baby toys away many years ago and planned on wrapping three "recycled" gifts for Eliana. (We do three per child because that was the number Jesus received when he was born.)

Then, we had a number of Christmas miracles:

1) Aaron and I each received a check from my step-mom and her husband in birthday cards last week.
2) My great aunt sent a check to be split between the children.
3) My mom sent a check that Aaron and I were to use towards gifts for the children and a birthday celebration for the two of us.
4) My father stopped by unexpectedly and left a card filled with several large bills and two gift cards.
5) My step-mom's husband sent a very large check, part of his inheritance from his father's passing just two months ago, in the hopes of providing a bright Christmas for our family.
6) The women's guild at our church took a collection for gifts for our children and talked to the pastor about writing us a check from the crisis fund.

Can you imagine the joy we felt by the outpouring of gifts? There was a lot of crying, quite a bit of embarassment and shame, and an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

We asked the church not to write us a check from the crisis fund because we aren't losing our home and there's food on the table. This is not a "crisis". There are others who would benefit far more from that money. We also told the women's guild about our recent gifts, but they insisted on giving us the donation to spend on ourselves or our children. (Maybe it's my ratty winter coat that moved them...)

We are so truly blessed to have so many care and show love for us. It's very humbling. Aaron and I are beyond words. There's nothing to say.

We bought a few gifts for BOTH children. Nothing outrageous--a few practical toys and outfits. The rest is probably going to go towards bills or tucked away for when we need it again. My guess is that it won't be long.

In the meantime, I have been praising God and praying that others are as blessed as we have been.

Happy Thanksgiving {phfr}

The children made this with the nanny!

This was the first Thanksgiving I've spent away from my grandparents in my conscious memory. I can't disclose all the reasons but suffice it to say that it wasn't a decision my husband and I made happily. The holidays were quite bittersweet for us. We spent the holiday focusing on the things that did make us happy and were able to spend the day after Thanksgiving with my grandparents.

{funny, happy}

On Thanksgiving day, we went to my mother's house with my brother and his longtime girlfriend. (Engaged? No. And I'm not expecting that anytime soon, but I love her just the same.) My mom was so happy to have her kids home for Thanksgiving. It was a quiet day of enjoying my children--entertaining Evan and admiring Eliana.








As you can see, I had to invest in a nice outfit for Evan. He's in the Christmas program at church this year as well as another at school. And I think it's a good tradition for young children to look as nice as the adults on the holidays. There's a reason to dress nicely for the occasion.

{real}

{funny, happy, real}

We spent the day after Thanksgiving at my grandparents' house. We always used to make cookies on that Friday. This year, Gram was too tired to make dough from scratch and the whole family wasn't there, but that was okay. We used refridgerated cookie dough, and Evan had a great time making "Gingy-bread mans" with Gram. He was so delighted when he discovered that he could use two different candies to make the eyes or buttons. Funny kid!




Gram also was able to spend time holding her long-awaited great-granddaughter. She's been quietly and patiently waiting for a granddaughter.

{pretty, happy, real}

The Bathroom {phfr}

{Pretty}

This is the painting hanging above my toilet. Silly place to put such a beautiful painting, isn't it? I've had it for nearly ten years now and just love it. I feel such tranquility when I look at it.

Maybe the bathroom is a good place for this painting after all!

{Happy}

Looks pretty happy with his mess, doesn't he? Right before I snapped this picture, Evan asked me, "Mom, have you seen my widdle fiwetwuck?"
"Ummm... no."

{Funny}

This is a sign that we had to put on our bathroom door. I wish I was kidding. But we have a blind cat. He's memorized the way the house is supposed to be. If, for example, he usually jumps up to the toilet seat and sits in wait while I shower but said toilet seat is left up, there is a good chance a blind cat will fall into the bowl.

{Real}

Babies don't like ribbons.

Did you find contentment this week?

30 Things to be Thankful for

In lieu of tidying my house, I've been thinking about how down I seem to get in my blog. I'm really quite a happy person but I let a lot of my pain out through my writing. How's about a glimpse into the happier, content Linny?

Thanksgiving is just around the corner and there are 30 days in November. To celebrate, here are 30 things I'm thankful for.

1. Beautiful, healthy children.

2. A committed, loving, adoring, hardworking husband.

3. The means to make my student loan payments on time.

4. My camera because I can document my children's lives and share my joy of my children with others.

5. A caring best friend, whose listens to me when I'm down, saved me from complete desperation, cleaned my house, cares for my children, and shared all of the joys I've had from marriage to motherhood to birthday parties.

6. My brother Mike. He shared a difficult childhood with me, has loved and supported me, is the godfather of my son, and is a good friend.

7. My sister Bethany. She's my daughter's godmother, encourages and shares my faith, shares problems with me, listens to me, cares for me, and worries about me.

8. The quilt my grandmother made me when I was 10. I still have it, and it brings me comfort and warmth. Without it, I wouldn't have snuggled with my children this morning!

9. Allrecipes.com. Without it, my family and I would be starving!

10. Generous grandparents, who've always loved us, no matter what our mistakes.

11. The love and forgiveness of Our Lord, through Jesus Christ.

12. Unanswered prayers because if I had gotten everything I'd ever wanted, I wouldn't have the wonderful life I have today.

13. My son's autism because it has humbled me and brought me closer to God.

14. A home to live in.

15. My in-laws, who are so loving and accepting of my son and me, who desire a relationship with us.

16. My wonderful nanny, whom I've caught hugging and kissing my children, telling them she missed them over the weekend and that she loves them.

17. A loving and supporting family.

18. My dog, Eddie, is so sweet and gentle with my children, snuggles with me, and is a source of great comfort.

19. The ability to nurse with an abundant supply. It has helped me to bond with both of my children.

20. My son wanting to spend time with me. He wants to share in his accomplishments and joy. He recently requested a pajama party. We snuggled, ate junk food, drank soda, and watched Finding Nemo.

21. A warm and welcoming church to grow in.

22. I have a job that I not only enjoy but that is fulfilling.

23. Indoor plumbing.

24. My turn table and vinyl collection.

25. Students who remind me why I worked so hard in college.

26. My son's teachers because they care about him so much.

27. Board games. I know, I'm a nerd.

28. Toys. I'll admit it. I love my son's play kitchen as much as he does.

29. Pork chops fried in soy sauce.

30. Shakespeare.

First Family Photo {phfr}

Our first family picture!
Such pretty smiles!
Such a happy family!
Funny, because of course, we can't get everyone to look at the family. And my husband is in his pajamas. Well, that's how it goes.
A very real setting on our family couch.

Accepting God's Plan

Something's been weighing on my mind. That's my reason for not posting in so long. How to deal with the guilt, the grief, in a private manner before making it public is quite time consuming. I have to sort through my feelings before I can share them or else the things I say come out wrong.

July 2007

Evan is autistic. My son, my precious babe, my first born--he's not like other kids. The gravity of that has been sinking in.

You see, a year ago he started receiving in-home therapy. Evan's county worker assured me that Evan is very high-functioning. Yes, I knew that. She said she would be surprised if he qualified for services for more than a year. When he started services this past January, I suppose I had it in my mind that we'd take the year of services. If Evan made the appropriate amount of progress, he'd be caught up to his peers. If not, we'd still be getting services and continue to work. Sounds reasonable, right?

The reality is that Evan will likely not qualify to continue services and he won't be caught up to his peers. In other terms, he's still autistic but he's not autistic enough. There are other kids who are struggling more than he is.

The weight of this has been sinking in. I suppose I equated Evan not qualifying for services with not being autistic anymore. The truth is, no matter how much he catches up, he is always going to be autistic.

Easter egg dying, 2009

The truth is profound and painful for me.

I know enough about autism to know that the great majority don't "recover". There is no cure. It doesn't go away. My expectations and hopes were above the bar for my son. Reality is so cruel.

Evan's teachers assure me he's doing great. What they mean is that he's not a problem. He doesn't have behaviors at school or that they're very limited. It means they don't have to constantly be on him, that he maintains a certain amount of independence. It doesn't mean that he's not stimming or making friends or playing with other students. That hurts, too.

Mother's Day 2011

Mother's Day 2008

As a teacher and former therapist, I have a picture of what Evan's future looks like. If we stay in this small school district, he'll be fully included in the classroom and likely have an aid. Other students will know him and say things like, "That's just how Evan is." They won't be mean to him and they may even encourage him. But they won't be friends with him. As he gets older, as this year goes on and he ignores their attempts to befriend him, they'll remember and he'll be alone. He might not ever get invited to a birthday party or sleepover. No one will want to work in a group with him for a class assignment because he'll hold them back, and he'll get grouped with lower functioning students. This knowledge strikes a chord of such grief that I literally ache in my chest for him. Evan is shy and has trouble interacting but it doesn't mean he doesn't want to be included at a birthday party or with his peers. He's just scared.

The pain knocks the wind out of me. I've begged, pleaded, prayed. "Please, God, please!" What am I asking for? I'm not even sure.
In the middle of all my pain, my pleading and praying, the Lord spoke to me. He gently whispered, "You can't fix what I have made."
"I know," I answered.
"What I have made, I have made perfectly," He said.
And that's where we've left the conversation. It doesn't matter how much I hurt for my son or what I say or do, the Lord made him and made him perfectly. The Lord has a plan for me and my son.

Summer 2010

What I've taken from that conversation is that I need to love and accept Evan, autistic or  not. I can't spend my life grieving and resisting. After all, how presumptuous am I to question our Divine Maker and His plan? It doesn't mean that I can or should stop trying to mold my son into a loving, gentle, contributing member of society. It just means that Evan isn't going to be like his peers. I need to let go of that thought or hope and obediently submit to the Lord's plan and will.

Summer 2010

I'm working on it.