The Republic of T.

Every time I write one of these posts, I think — or, rather, I hope — it will be the last one. Maybe that’s because I harbor two apparently unrealistic hopes: (1) that no more children will be hurt, abused, or killed by the people who are supposed to care for them, and (2) that people will stop putting our parenting in the same category as people who do hurt, abuse, and kill their own children.

Like I said, these are unrealistic hopes. Maybe someday the reality of child abuse will be like a nightmare that fades from memory and into the distant past. But not today. And maybe someday, people will stop calling all that we do as parents — from making dinner to helping with homework, etc. — as abuse, because it’s part of being a parent, and because We’re doing it. Maybe someday. But not today

Certainly not with Pride season upon us, when the AFA finds out there’s a kid kicking off a pride parade.

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(TRIGGER WARNING: The descriptions and some of the media in this post depict extremely violent acts of child abuse. If this is an issue for you, consider yourself warned.)

I had not expected to update this series so soon after the last installment. But, via Alvin McEwen, comes the latest conservative blather on gay parents. This time, from former Arkansas governor and GOP presidential candidate Mike Huckabee.

He continues to oppose any government recognition of same-sex relationships. Even civil unions are “not necessary,” Huckabee said. “I think there’s been a real level of being disingenuous on the part of the gay and lesbian community with their goal of civil unions,” he alleged, referring to LGBT activists who first claimed that their goal in several states was to enact civil unions, but subsequently launched efforts to implement full marriage rights.

Huckabee went on to draw parallels between homosexuality and other lifestyles that are considered by some to be morally aberrant. “You don’t go ahead and accommodate every behavioral pattern that is against the ideal,” he said of same-sex marriage. “That would be like saying, well, there are a lot of people who like to use drugs, so let’s go ahead and accommodate those who want who use drugs. There are some people who believe in incest, so we should accommodate them. There are people who believe in polygamy, so we should accommodate them.”

No surprise here. Nor is it all that surprising that — given the connection cemented in the conservative mind that the sole purpose of marriage is procreation or the symbolic possibility thereof. This last part makes it OK for, say, infertile or elderly heterosexual couples — who physiologically unable to procreate, or well past their reproductive primes — to marry, and to marry for a “reason” that can still be used disqualify same-sex couples (who cannot reproduce with one another).

Predictably he attacks same sex parents

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I suspect these are words I will find myself repeating again and again as a parent: this is happening sooner than I expected. The “this” in question, is Santa Claus.

I was relieved, after reading Dear Prudence this week, that I’m not the only parent who’s dealing with “this.”

Dear Prudence,

My child’s father and I split up when I was five months pregnant, and I’ve raised our 8-year-old son by myself. I’ve always told him that Santa Claus exists. For the past two years, he’s been writing a wish list to Santa and putting it in the mail. Last year, his father told him that Santa does not exist, that it’s a lie parents tell their children, and that parents buy presents and tell the kids they’re from Santa. Two nights ago, my son asked me, “Mommy, does Santa really exist?” to which I replied, “What do you believe?” He said, “Papa told me Santa doesn’t exist, and you tell me Santa does. I think he does, but I don’t know.” I always knew that I would have to tell my son the truth about Santa, but I don’t want him to think that I’ve lied to him all these years. How do I tell my son that Santa doesn’t exist without losing his trust? And what’s there to live for when you don’t believe in all the things that make a moment special?

—Believing

Ugh. Here’s how it happened in my case.

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This series is overdue for an update. I’ve been meaning to get to it for a while now. But every time a relevant news story reminds me of it, there’s always something more pressing.

The entire time the “Octomom” saga played out in headlines and newscasts, I thought about continuing this series. Only, every time I’d get started, there’d be another revelation. At some point, I got tired of trying to keep up. I kept it in the back of my mind, though.

To tell the truth, I’ve never watched Jon & Kate Plus 8, except for a few minutes when I stopped in the middle of channel surfing and caught a few minutes of it. I didn’t know why, but something about the show creeped me out. I couldn’t put my finger on it. But when the allegations about his affair, then her alleged affair, then her alleged violent rages, his alleged lack of ambition, her tummy tuck and nose job, his hair plugs, and the difference between the reality of their marriage and the facade presented on television, I found myself asking “Why are these people famous?” All they did was have babies, and have more at one time than most people.

These people are famous for reproducing?

Then it hit me, what bothered me about the very idea of the show, let alone the show itself.

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First of all, this post is not what you think it’s about. (Though I could write style-crampin’ aspects of having an infant who doesn’t sleep through the night yet. Suffice it to say that the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.) No, it’s about the French.

Or rather, it’s about what they French have done now. It’s something that would never be done here. At least not without a whole lot of whooping and hollering. Forget Maplethorpe for a minute. Can you imagine the public reaction if an American museum featured a new exhibit that’s basically a children’s guide to sex?
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This Friday, I had something anyone who’s ever lived through the first few months of parenting a newborn will understand is something to be treasured: a day off. The rest of the family left the house in the morning, and I went back to bed. But, of course, we never take a day off from being parents. Not that I want to, mind you, but those few extra hours of sleep Friday morning (I went back to bed. Surprised?) were sweet.

I’d taken the day off, because Parker’s pre-school was having a special performance, and of course we were going to be there to see it. Parker had been talking about it for the past month. At first he decided he was going to dance, and after he picked a song I burned it to CD so that he could take it to school with him and practice. But I know my son. He’s very stage shy. At home, with us as an audience, he sings, dances and puts on quite a show. But he generally prefers not to be in the spotlight and not to be the center a big audience’s attention.

So I wasn’t surprised when he announced that he’d volunteered (with one other child) for the job of handing out tickets. (Pieces of construction paper colored by Parkers class served as “tickets.”) I told him, “That’s a very important job. If nobody handed out tickets, there’d be no audience to see the show,” and that Daddy and Papa would be there so he could give us our tickets. And he did, as well as handing tickets to other parents as they arrived. He even helped with some of the props for the other students performances.

We were very proud and we told him so.
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It’s inevitable that, since the poisonous parenting series started, someone who drops into the the middle of it without reading the previous posts (or perhaps without reading any of it) completely misunderstands the point of it. That’s what seems to have happened with one commenter on the previous post.

I am a black hetrosexual woman who reads your blog often. It is really bothersome that you choose to highlight the worst of the worst of hetrosexual parenting. How can we have meaningful dialogue about our differing views when all you do is degrade and mock hetrosexual parents?????

Of course, the point is not to “degrade and mock heterosexual parents.”
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Or else. That’s what I thought when I read about John and Cynthia Burke, after someone linked to the article in a comment on my post at Pam’s.

After six years of childless marriage, John and Cynthia Burke of Newark decided to adopt a baby boy through a state agency. Since the Burkes were young, scandal-free and solvent, they had no trouble with the New Jersey Bureau of Children’s Services—until investigators came to the line on the application that asked for the couple’s religious affiliation.

John Burke, an atheist, and his wife, a pantheist, had left the line blank. As a result, the bureau denied the Burkes’ application. After the couple began court action, however, the bureau changed its regulations, and the couple was able to adopt a baby boy from the Children’s Aid and Adoption Society in East Orange.

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