Billets comportant le tag relationships

I have noticed that all of the books the girls check out from the library lately centre around boy-girl relationships (or at least have it in there as a plot point) and whenever a song comes on the radio, they’ll ask “is this a love song?”.  They seem really, really interested in the topic lately, which AW CRAP, NOT YET, MAN, THEY’RE ONLY 9.  

I feel like this is going to be an interesting phase in their development, and I’m not sure I entirely know how to deal with it.  I grew up in violent, dysfunctional households and had absolutely no positive role models for relationships, so I feel like besides trying to teach by example with Logan is the only thing I can do for them.  I had to learn well into adulthood how you should be treated in a relationship—Logan was not always the righteous fucking dude he is now, and we had to go through a lot of hard work to get to the relationship we have now—and I don’t want them to have to deal with that.

Then, of course, there is the inevitable subject of sexuality, both generalized and their own.  I have been working hard to not let my hang-ups and sex-negative upbringing colour the way I rear them, so they don’t have to work so hard to get sorted about it, but I still struggle.  When they ask me things, I remain cool on the outside, but inside I’m screaming and anxious and freaking out.  

They actually know a lot of what they need to know—I have never hidden my period from them, for instance, so they know it’s part of puberty, what happens, when it happens, difference between pads and tampons, etc.  They know about the different parts that people have.  And they even know pretty much everything about the babies question, even “sperm from dude + egg from lady = baby!” except that the p goes in the v.  I guess I haven’t gotten around to that because a.) still working on my own issues with not making sexuality a bad thing and b.) they haven’t asked, and usually when they want to know something, they’ll ask, even if it’s an uncomfortable question, so I figure they’ll ask me when they want to know.  

(Probably loudly at the grocery store, like they did when they saw the Monistat I put on the check-out conveyor belt.  ”OH NO, MOM, DO YOU HAVE A YEAST INFECTION?  I’M SORRY, THAT MUST FEEL TERRIBLE.”  Hey, I appreciate the sympathy, kid, but I don’t think the checker wanted to know about it, judging by the look on her face.)

This has been a tl;dr musing about parenthood. 

stfusexists:

uprightcitizens:

Hi. How ya doing. My name is Liz, and I am here with a message from the Foundation of Ladies Who Are Sick of Being Told Who and What To Do* (FLWASBTWWTD for short). This goes out to all of you self-proclaimed “Nice Guys” who write and say things like this, or this, or even this. If you have ever over-identified with a Michael Cera movie, or bemoaned the fact that none of the girls at your school can see how great you are for all the pickup artists and Jean-Ralphios around, then guess what! This post is for you! I have one question for you! And that question is:

Who fuckin’ asked you?

I’ve had it up to here with boys who think that women owe them something for not being douchebags. It’s like when my seven-year-old cousin goes to the store and expects a treat as a reward for not asking for one. Life doesn’t work that way, brodudes. Stop complaining that girls always fall for the “bad boy”**. We don’t. I certainly don’t. But you know what else we don’t do? We don’t suddenly wake up one day going, “Hey, you know that guy who’s acted weird and shy and clingy around me for years? I am actually really in love with him and would like to put my mouth on his private parts!”***

Here’s the thing, and I know this might come as a shock to some of your delicate systems. But ladies don’t have to be attracted to you, weird clingy doormat personality or not. We don’t owe you anything. You’re not that special. So you’re not sporting a tattoo of the Cantonese symbol for “fate” or a puka shell necklace. Congratulations!

You want a fucking gold star?

That still doesn’t mean we should be obligated to return your affection, though.

I want you to think about your best platonic female friend. Why is she not your girlfriend? It’s probably because there’s no chemistry, right?**** If she up and revealed one day that she had a crush on you and basically demanded that you reciprocate, lest you be branded an asshole who only goes for “dumb bitches,” what would you say? Probably something to the effect of “Well, this is kind of a big thing you’re dumping on my shoulders right now, and you are a very good friend to me, but I am just not attracted to you!” Right?

Also, I mean, come on. Over the past decade, those of us blessed with lady-parts have had to endure with equanimity this new philosophy of “he’s just not that into you,” which has swept the nation and forced us all to confront the notion that sometimes, a one-sided crush just isn’t enough.

We also had to endure this horrible movie.

Now, I’m not going argue with that. I think all of us, male and female alike, have dealt with unwanted attention from an insignificant other — that one person who couldn’t take no for an answer, who didn’t pick up on your signals, and then got mad when you finally straight up told them you weren’t interested. Boys get to call these their “crazy ex-girlfriends” or, you know, just “crazy.” Like, “Remember that girl I met at Evan’s party? Damn, she’s crazy. She texted me like twenty times today.” Girls don’t have “crazy” partners. Sometimes we have stalkers, sometimes we have rapists, but most cases don’t escalate that far. Most of the time, we get stuck with you “Nice Guys” who just want our attention — and we’re often either pressured into going further with you than we really want to, or else we’re just crucified as the “dumb bitches” who “led you on.”

So you know what? Stop it. No, seriously, stop. Send that DVD of (500) Days of Summer back to Netflix, put your guitar away, and get real. If a girl doesn’t return your ardor, deal with it! She’s probably just not that into you, and there are plenty more out there. Move on. It’s not the end of the world. And just remember — nobody owes you anything. So that cute girl who borrowed a pencil that one time is over there grinding with a guy who looks like somebody turned that Soulja Boy song “Turn My Swag On” into a living human being — big fucking deal. You can’t control who she dances with, talks to, dates, or has sex with. I hate to say it, but grow a pair — or if you can’t, to quote Amy Poehler as Hillary Clinton, I will lend you mine.

Love, Liz

* Not a real foundation, though you are welcome to donate money to the Elizabeth House. It’s a charity I started to help me buy a house.
** By “bad boy” I assume you mean guys more in the mold of the Situation than the Fonz. To be honest, I would date the Fonz, if only for the novelty factor of… well, dating Fonzie. Also, 70s-era Henry Winkler can get it, am I right?
*** Don’t even start with the whole “Unlike other guys, I don’t want to build my relationship on sex” bullshit. Even self-proclaimed “nice guys” want blowjobs. Probably more than players, to be honest, ‘cause we all know you’re harder up for them.
**** If your answer is “Because I’ve had a crush on her for years but she has this douchebag boyfriend, so I’m just being her friend while I wait for her to come around,” douse yourself with cold water right now.

(Source : lizdexia)

(Almost 11 married, to be specific.)

17-year-old fucked up girl meets 15-year-old fucked up boy.  Marriage at 19 and 18 respectively.  Twin babies 3 years later.

Somehow, it works.