The Feminists Entertain Me but I’m Raising These Kids With a Hefty Dose of Gender Bias


Recently I rediscovered Reddit. I’ve always loved reading there, but I never submitted, commented or otherwise participated in their discussion. I’ve found my happy place though with the TwoXChromosomes SubReddit (which is just a subgroup). It’s a really great little board, and I’m scared to share it with too many folks because I don’t want to be that blogger that made the feminist happy place suck.

What I love so much about the internet is that it forces me to think. I don’t find that I’m changing my mind, but rather that I’m thinking things through more critically. Critical thinking is always good. Lately I’ve been thinking about the fact that I’m a very different mother to Alexander than I am to Jane.

In the last two months Alexander has played with fire and Jane has a male admirer. Alexander played with fire alone in the house, Jane got a text from a boy. Ask me which one had me in orbit? Apparently playing with fire is a phase that little boys grow out of, the text messages may never end.

I care more about my daughter’s chastity than I do about the fact that my son is a budding pyromaniac. I can rebuild after a fire.

Further I will let my son wear nail polish, but not pink, because that would be feminine. I will let my daughter wear jeans, but not from the boy’s department. I know.

But I do think about women and our clothes, and I wonder why we have to wear high heels to dress up and men can wear proper shoes. I get irritated that we’re supposed to have misshapen feet from jamming ourselves into pointy toed things, and that we can’t run to catch up because our feet are cramped and our skirts are prohibitive.

I watch Jane play at school and I wish she’d wear the shorts from her uniform and not her skirts because then she could run and play. The boys don’t have to worry about skirts flying up.

And then I remember all the wonderful things about being a girl, and I look at the privelages of being a woman. And I remember that we’re just different, and different is good.

I just wish we were all a little nicer.

My Son isn’t Allowed to Wear a Dress


I know, I’m supposed to be all delighted with the “My Son is Gay” blogger. I’m supposed to think that she’s a heroine for letting her son dress as Daphne for Halloween.

Okay fine, it was Halloween. I’d probably let Alexander dress as a girl for Halloween, but my family would think I’m a complete and utter asshole if I posted my son’s picture and then told the world he was gay. Why? Because that’s an asshole move at any age.

Mom blogging can be Moms talking to Moms, or Moms talking to the world. It doesn’t have to be Moms Telling Stories That Will Haunt Their Children. Oh, unless you drove a tank down the 405 instead of going to class in your freshman year of college. That will humiliate everyone, and it is a story that clearly needs to be told.

My son, who has no gender identity issues, may not wear a dress outside this house. He may not wear a pink frilly top, or tap dancing shoes. My son, because he is being raised by conservative freakazoids, will only wear clothing purchased in the boy’s department. Yes, I recognize that I’m narrow minded. I am okay with that.

If your son or daughter has gender identity issues this video is not about you. I’m really sorry, but I can only address the 99% of the world that smacks me in the face. It’s a blog, not an encyclopedia. I’m a Mom Blogger, not a politician, you don’t have to love me, and I don’t have to campaign for your issues.

So what say ye? Would you let your son wear a dress to school?