All posts by Zoe

Superheroes are for boys and other gender crap

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One of the best parts of being pregnant is that I’m now allowed to buy baby clothes. They’re just so cute and it’s making this whole ‘preparing for my whole life to change’ thing much more fun. Plus, it makes me feel like I’m actually doing something other than having weird pains (that are totally normal) and odd food stuff while I grow a person inside me.

I am still unsure if I’m having a little boy or girl, but mostly it doesn’t matter. Either way, I’ll be buying pretty much the same clothes, toys and books. I don’t want to put my kid in gendered clothing – it just seems weird to me. Once he or she is able to choose, I’ll buy stuff according to those tastes, but while I’m forcing my fashion ideas on the tiny creature, it won’t be based on the idea of dressing in a way that represents his or her genitals. Of course, this mentality seems weird to everyone else.

It’s hard to find baby clothes that aren’t gender specific, but I have found some absolutely adorable items. From a “little ass kicker” onesie to my “made with love and science” baby grow, I already love the stuff I’m planning on having the kid wear. Recently, I picked out some more stuff and got some strange looks and comments.

I love the idea of dressing my kid in all sorts of geeky clothes, particularly superheroes. From DC to Marvel and all the awesome indie stuff in between, I think it’s hilarious and way too much fun. I got a Batman onesie that’s just too cute, as well as a Superman fleecy onesie that I wish came in my size. But neither of these were considered normal purchases. The Batman one was apparently too much of a boy’s item while the Superman one was a girl version because the logo was pink. Um, a blue fleece with pink Superman logo, plus it’s ridiculously soft. Also, who cares?

Another discussion was equally distressing for me as people were saying that they would wait to buy any baby presents until they know if it’s a boy or a girl. Um, why? Every child can have a xylophone, building blocks, a dump truck and cuddly toys. Boys can have dolls if they want and girls can play with tool kits. The point is for kids to play and have fun and maybe learn something about how things work – why would such presents be wrong for the kid if it turned out to be a different sex?

Maybe I’m just a raving feminist, or maybe I’m a failed feminist, but I simply don’t see the value in dressing my kid in whatever color to prove to the world to call him or her by a specific pronoun. It sets a tone that I don’t like, one which dictates what’s appropriate to wear (and say and do) depending on the organs between your legs.

Yet again, I feel like I’m already fighting battles before this little one is even born. So many months to go and I’m already exhausted by it all.

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A generation gap in the making

TMNT new

Over the weekend, Dean and I went to see some friends. They already have a young kid with a second one on the way. As seems to be the case now that I’m knocked up, the conversation inevitably turned to childbirth, and then the prospect of raising the little rugrat. Of course Dean and I are excited to show the little one all the things that make us excited, but I’m already seeing signs of the generation gap.

Sure, some movies and books and games are timeless. Dean will probably get to live his dream of showing all the Disney movies to the little one while I make some excuse to be out of the house for a while. Or I might have a decent shot at sharing some of the awesome kid’s books (A Wrinkle in Time, anyone) or games – Tetris and Mario will never lose their cool-factor.

But then there are things like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or whatever new show will be running by the time the kid is old enough to get into a series. Have you SEEN the new version of TMNT? Gone is the 80s animation, with a whole new style for the modern age. And Dean was horrified! He was determined that our kid would only watch the “quality” TV that he knew and loved, like Gummy Bears and original He-Man.

So it hit me, this is where generation gaps come from. At some point, all those games I played and series I loved were the cool new thing. He-Man and Thundercats and all those awesome shows were made for my generation, and I loved them. But that doesn’t mean that little Harley or Mason will. Sure, some stuff will translate well, and I’m sure Dean will grow to love watching the new Marvel or DC stuff with the little one, plus any excuse to watch Chowder will be accepted with open arms. And I’m jealous of my kid getting to grow up with the toys-to-life genre as an established and awesome gaming genre for kids.

It’s just come as a bit of a shock already. I knew that not all the stuff I like would be appealing to a kid, and I knew that there would be shows and music that wouldn’t be what I grew up with. It’s just a bit mind boggling to see the generation gap in action, before the baby growing inside me is even born.

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How much equality is there in raising a child? A Women’s Day ramble

burning-bra Yesterday was Women’s Day in South Africa, which means today is our day off from work. I often laugh at the public holidays in South Africa, but I sort of like Women’s Day. Okay, I hate all the marketing that goes along with it, and the fact that one day has become an entire month, but it’s nice to see women celebrated. There is so much that women do, that women are expected to do, and even the most staunch feminists among us fall into that trap. And I can feel myself doing it.

Being pregnant has made me think about these things a lot more. How will I raise my son/daughter? How will I teach him/her about gender, about how to exist in society, about how to be his or her own person and not cave to social norms? I am very happy to have a husband who appreciates me, who treats me with respect, who loves me completely and is totally supportive of all my endeavors. However, I wonder if even he will fall into the same gender traps.

Sure, I know that he will be an active part of our kid’s life. He will change diapers, watch the baby so I can go for a long shower or bath, or maybe even take care of things to give me a night off.  But I wonder what the balance will be. I plan on breast feeding and expressing so that he can also help with feeding, but I wonder what the proportion will be of boob and bottle. I am fairly confident that he will watch the munchkin so I can attend events or have a “night off”, but how many nights off will he have in a week? It’s not me being resentful of him or questioning priorities. It just seems to me that even the most empowered women I know seem to do more of the childcare than their husbands.

So, how much equality is there, really? I work from home, which means that in theory I should be able to look after the little one and still continue working. But how will that actually work – I already see my work not taken as seriously as his because I can do mine in slippers and pajamas. Will that only get worse once a baby is in the picture? Will it also mean that I can do nighttime feedings alone because “at least I’m at home all day”? The assumptions just seem to spiral out in my head and get me rather nervous.

Plus there’s that big question – what sort of feminist would I be if I DID take on the lion’s share of raising the child? What sort of feminist would I be if I did sacrifice more of my career to raise this child than my husband will? Is this yet another reason that I’m a bad feminist, or is it just the reality of life that someone needs to make time to take care of a baby and it’s simply more cost effective for it to be me? Also, supposedly mothers “just know” what their babies need – food, rest, a nappy change – so won’t it also be “easier” for me to just do it, even if that flies in the face of gender equality?

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On saying and doing “the right thing”

me and deanI have only been publicly pregnant for a couple weeks now, but one thing has already become abundantly clear – everyone thinks that they know more than me. More than me about parenting, about being pregnant, and about all the things that I should or shouldn’t be doing.

Okay, not everyone. And some people really do know more than us and can offer some helpful advice and ideas. But mostly… wow. I get strange looks when buying my husband his tobacco, and even stranger looks when buying beer and wine for the house. I have people questioning if I’m allowed to eat this or that, or straight up telling me that I shouldn’t. I’ve been advised to adopt all kinds of radical diets, to read up on the dangers of vaccination, and that certain decisions that Dean and I have made simply aren’t right, especially keeping our cats who are apparently going to smother the baby.

"But mommy, I'm your baby!"
“But mommy, I’m your baby!”

The best advice I’ve gotten has been from a few moms: in the end, ignore everyone and just do things however feels right for me and Dean. So that’s what I’m doing.

Yes, I’ve been eating sushi and camembert. I also occasionally have a small splash of white wine in my sparkling water or a sip of Dean’s beer if it’s a nice Kilkenny. I plan to swear in front of my child and promote gender equality in all forms, even if it means fighting for his or her right to wear a school uniform normally reserved for a different gender. I also plan on teaching my kid about all things gaming and tech and want Dean to teach him or her the basics of coding from an early age. You can think I’m an idiot, I think plenty of people are, but this is what feels right and so that’s what I’m doing.

And sometimes, it feels like a horribly lonely experience. Dean isn’t known for saying anything right – it’s something we often joke about. He does things right and looks after me so well and makes me incredibly happy, but he simply doesn’t say the things I want to hear when I ask him for it. But the other night, he said exactly the right thing at the perfect time.

I was getting changed and feeling overwhelmed by a new discomfort in my stomach after eating. My boobs were sore, my stomach was uncomfortable and I was fighting a headache without the help of any pain meds. It was not a good moment for me. And after being tough all day and pushing through, I stood there in our bedroom, naked, and I started making those pre-crying whimpering sounds.

Dean came in and asked what was wrong and I told him. He held me close, giving me a huge hug and simply said, “I know this sucks right now, and it’s going to be shitty for a while. But you’re not alone, we’re doing this together.”

And suddenly I remembered that we had planned this together, that we are an unbeatable team and could get through anything. Of course I then had to fight him off from trying to manhandle my nipples (he takes his “training for breast feeding” job incredibly seriously), but I felt so much better just knowing that I won’t have to do any of this alone, no matter how it feels some days. I have an incredible husband to help me, as well as wonderful friends and family who really are full of the best intentions and some really great advice, even if it doesn’t always seem that way.

 

 

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Is this all worth it? A first time pregnant fear

someecard pregnancy

I am growing a human. As I type this, there is a tiny creature inside me, leeching off of my energy, my nutrients, my wellbeing. No, I haven’t felt miserable throughout my pregnancy; for the most part I’ve been able to carry on doing things that I enjoy, except for eating dinner. But I do occasionally suffer from crazy mood swings, and when my awful but normal migraines come, I’m not allowed to take my awesome narcotic painkillers to make them go away. It’s tough but not horrible and I’m getting through. I just have this niggling worry.

Is this all worthwhile? People say parenthood is like nothing else you can experience in life, that motherhood is amazing and that the love I will feel for the little thing growing inside me simply doesn’t compare to any other kind of love. I’ve felt it in small moments – seeing the little legs kicking on the ultrasound, or that moment when I realized that one day a little human is going to call me mommy. But then those moments pass and I just feel gassy and queasy and not quite myself.

I keep telling myself that it will all be worthwhile, that the love I will feel when little Harley or Mason is born will make me forget all about this time. But then I realize that the first few months also might not be much fun when he/she is just crying and pooing the whole time. Oh, and sucking on my boob. I will be sleep deprived and need to find the ideal position for breast feeding while still gaming. It’s going to be tough and I then start to wonder why I signed up for this.

But then I remember all the fun things I want to do with this tiny life that’s growing inside me. I can’t wait to give the little baby a bath and play with those itty bitty feet. I can’t wait to read him or her all my favorite bedtime stories, and a chapter each night of the Odyssey or other classic mythology. I am so excited to watch this little person who is part me and part Dean grow up into a real person – someone who will tell me I’m an idiot for not liking The Hobbit, or crazy for loving Doctor Who the way that I do. Someone who will be excited for the new game release, who I can buy little geeky dolls for over the holidays. I am so excited to have such fun experiences with the tiny life growing inside me, and I have to keep reminding myself that it’s going to be a fun adventure. Sure, there might be exhaustion and discomfort in my future, but that’s not the only thing. There will be new life and a tiny person who will be a part of this world only because Dean and I loved each other and wanted to take this step.

Geez, I just hope this isn’t a giant conspiracy from all the procreators out there. I hope the good outweighs the bad, because at the moment, I’m only have the icky experiences and I could really use some incredible ones.

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