Mommy’s All Right

We start our article today with the humble, and respectful, beginnings of a family. According to Rick Santorum and his ilk, this is exactly the kind of thing we should encourage. “Did we hook up at the Megadeth/Motorhead concert? – w4m – 28 (Aragon Ballroom) : Me: Blue hair, silver tube top, fishnets, Knee high black biker boots. You: Red mohawk, black pentagram gauges, viper piercings. I was grinding on you in the pit, then we went to the bathroom, and got f***ed up. You had a nice c**k and I was wasted so I let [you] raw dog it in the stall. You were really good and you had to gag me so I would make too much noise. Anyway I’m pregnant. It’s yours. contact me if you want to be part of your child’s life.”

While I admit that, on the one hand, it’s good to see that this young woman feels confident enough to raise a child today, on the other hand I’m thinking she should be the poster child for birth control.

I’m sure that, piercings, questionable morals and tats aside, she’ll be one of those cool moms who does stuff for her kids like build an entire room dedicated to Narnia so that her child can live in fear of the evil Calormenes coming through the closet while she/he sleeps. Or, maybe, she’ll be that fun parent who builds a functioning Hobbit Hole in the backyard. Or maybe she’ll be the whimsical mommy who builds a World of Warcraft bathroom complete with sword.

One things for sure though, if she follows the current trend in mommying, that kid will never be allowed to actually touch or play with any of that stuff.

Given the lengths so-called helicopter parents will go to protect their children, one would think an actual helicopter blade were hurtling toward their sheltered offspring. I suspect the stress caused by parents’ fears might harm kids more than the occasional stitch-worthy gash, or bump on the head.

Case in point: crawling helmets.

Seems some parents are so concerned about the rate at which their babies are ambling about the living room that they are purchasing crawling helmets for their high velocity tots. (No, these aren’t helmets for head-shaping or other medical needs; they’re just to protect babies from hitting their heads while doing normal baby activities.) If your baby can’t face the rigors of crawling, how will your toddler learn to walk? Will your Kindergartener ever ride a bike? I guess you can forget about contact sports, driving, and frat parties.

The sales pitch for the crawling helmet includes mention of hardwood and tile floors, implying that responsible parents protect defenseless children from these horrors. I am not one of those responsible parents. I left my newborn daughter alone on the sofa cushion with her 2-year-old brother standing guard. Neither wore helmets. Twenty seconds later I’m watching my toddler son pull his baby sister by the feet onto the wood floor, where her little head took quite a blow.

That’s it, I thought, I’ve killed my baby.

And yet, she was okay. No blood, no broken anything, no brain damage. This kind of incident might prompt some parents to buy a crawler helmet. To me it just proves they aren’t necessary. Seriously, twelve years later, my daughter scores well on standardized tests. We’re fine.

Fear breeds fear, so let’s all take a deep breath, shall we?

Some other things we can probably stop worrying about:

BPA: Plastic probably isn’t going to kill your kid. Not today, anyway. And if you’re so worried about packaging poisons, why are you feeding your child the kind of crap that comes in plastic containers?

Lascivious lyrics: Those rap dudes are only saying out loud what every other boy is thinking, or um… visualizing. Teach kids to respect one another, and let them think they’re getting away with something by listening to the dirty songs.

Salmonella: Oh, wait, that one’s real.

Blenders: Who is afraid of blenders? Apparently Alicia Silverstone is terrified of hers. Why else would she chew her son’s food for him? Granted, my Oster frightens the dog, but it’s great pureeing soups and veggies for babies. No spit required.

Okay, in a moment of journalistic transparency, I have to admit that the young lady at the beginning of this article pretty much described my sex life in the 80’s, complete with Motorhead.

But sans the portable mutant human.