Apparently there’s a whole lotta people with their knickers in a knot about a J. Crew ad.
Earlier in the month a newsletter was sent out to J. Crew subscribers featuring a free shipping promotion. In the newsletter was a picture of J. Crew executive, Jenna Lyons, and her son, laughing and sharing what looks like a very special moment. You know, the moments we moms kind of live for because it helps us forget about the tantrums, the sleep deprivation and the time your kids shaved the cat.
But if you look a little closer you see Beckett is wearing bright neon pink nail polish on his toes and underneath is a quote from his mom stating how she’s happy she has a little boy who loves pink.
*This* is what the uproar is about – that this little boy, who looks quite happy by the way, is wearing pink nail polish.
I’ve written before about Son No. 1 and how he wears a suit and tie pretty much every single day. He’s the kid out on his bike or climbing a tree in a three piecer, tie and cufflinks. When he’s feeling more casual, he’ll go for a dress shirt and tie with a sweater over top. He’s made celluloid collars out of cardboard and worn them with his good black suit, pocket watch and hat for a trip to the grocery store. He does this all without batting an eye.
To this day, I have only gotten positive feedback from other parents, the most common comment being how it’s so great I let him do this.
To be very clear, there is no “letting” involved.
My son has been choosing his daily ensemble since he was a toddler, outfits that were sometimes well put together and others that were almost painful to look at. Toddlers don’t really have a keen sense of colour palettes, just saying. So when he started choosing to wear clothes outside the norm at the age of six, why would I suddenly say no? My son wears what he wears and is who he is not because I’m 'allowing him'. He is who he is because he is growing into his true self. It’s my job as a parent to back the hell off and let him be that person while offering guidance, lessons and unconditional love along the way. Occassionally, I'll offer advice on wearing clothes that are better suited (ha!) for the activity like when we were going to the splash pad and he wanted to wear a shirt and tie. But ultimately, the decision is his.
The generalized view from the people who are in an uproar over this picture is they are concerned this image is an endorsement of transgender roles and isn't upholding traditional values. Alternatively, there's concern for the boy - Beckett will need therapy when he gets older, putting pink nail polish on him is sending a confusing message.
But I don't think it's about any of that. What I really think is happening is that these people who are in an uproar are upset because seeing a picture of a boy happily wearing bright pink nail polish makes them uncomfortable.
My son, this incredible child of mine, has taught me more about being true to myself than I’ll ever teach him. Beckett’s smiling face is teaching us the same lesson.
Quite frankly, I think the world needs more pink nail polish.
It was bound to happen.
I live in a house surrounded by penises. Peni? Either/or there’s a lotta male hormones going on over here and I am the one lone female. I’m at a disadvantage for a more than a few reasons.
1) I have a vagina and when the kids come bounding into the bathroom, bedroom...or wherever I happen to be partially or fully nude, they are sent into spasms of laughter.
2) When I pee, I actually get it in the toilet.
3) We won’t get started on my deflated boobs and poor stretched, elongated nipples.
Son No. 1 is getting older – nearer to entering double digits than he is from toddlerhood. About a month ago, as we sat around the kitchen table, the boys started talking about babies. Up until this point, both were under the impression a baby came from a woman’s belly button. I wasn’t in any hurry to dispel that little myth but when Son No. 1 said “so and so from my class told me a baby comes from a mommy’s vagina and I laughed at him” I knew it was time to start dispelling. But not before there was wine dispensing.
Glass of chardonnay in hand I told them, yes, a baby really does come from a woman’s vagina. Laughter ensued.
Quite frankly, I don’t blame them.
I have always explained to them a baby was made from a seed that the daddy planted. When they envisioned him as a farmer in overalls and a straw hat, I was pretty much okay with that. And when they asked where the seeds came from, I was also okay with telling them to go ask the farmer in the family.
Then this week, the subject came up again and when I asked Son No. 1 where he thought the seed came from, his answer, although innocent and not a bad guess, was completely off base. I knew I had to have some sort of talk with him.
Son No. 1 has quite a few kids in his class who have older brothers and sisters. The information being dispersed was like a Jerry Seinfeld game of telephone. Mulva? Deloris?
So I went out on the weekend to buy a book – something age appropriate that would give him enough correct information without, you know, going above and beyond what an elementary kid needs to know.
The hunt wasn’t easy. I started off in the parenting section of Chapters and finally made my way over to the kids reference section. There were a few books about “What’s happening to my body” which were a bit beyond what I needed and seeing as he’s still a few years off from any of that happening, I didn’t want to plant any seeds....like his farmer dad and all that.
After much searching, I found this.
The entire book is done in cartoons with a bird explaining to the reluctant to learn - can we talk about something else? ANYTHING else? - bee pretty much every question my son had on where babies came from, and then some.
I gave it to him to read with the ground rule that he’s not to take the information he learned and spread it around the classroom or among his friends, explaining that it’s up to parents to teach this stuff, not him. He took it upstairs and an hour later he was on page 35. Apparently if you want your boys to embrace reading, all you’ve got to do is give them a book on sex. I don’t think it changes much as they get older.
I’ve approached him every day to see if he’s had any questions on what he’s learned and to make sure he understands what he’s reading. Although he’s a bit giggly when we talk about it, he now has a clear, age appropriate overview of how babies are made, the differences between boys and girls, different types of families and even good and bad touches.
So if you ever find yourself in the stuttering “go ask your dad” when your kid asks you how babies are made way before you expected it..... this is me covering your ass.
Which I unfortunately didn't have enough time to do this morning when they barged in while I was taking a shower.
*sigh*
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