Wanted: Gene Pool Lifeguard

If you want to drive a car, bus, tractor-trailer, motorcycle, ATV, snowmobile, boat, or plane, you have to have a license. If you want to hunt, fish, or go scuba diving, you need a license. If you'd like to own rare animals or a large number of pets, you need a license. You need a license to prepare someone else's taxes, practice medicine, defend or prosecute a case in a court of law, perform CPR and basic first aid, lifeguard, own a gun, be a mall cop, pierce ears and tattoo people, chlorinate a pool, or operate a ham radio. You also have to have a certificate in order to teach in public schools.

Last time I checked, parents are the most important teachers. But there's no certification or licensing process to become a parent. No requirement to learn basic care or lifesaving techniques. No law that says you actually make the effort to think about the best interests of your children. Nothing. So long as you are physically able to make a baby, a parent you shall be! But when will enough be enough?

I realize that this does not apply to all parents. For that I am grateful. I also realize that any sort of parental licensing is outlandish and completely unrealistic. But I think about these things, so I will share those thoughts with you.

This has been on my mind lately for a couple of reasons. The first was this past Saturday night. I went to a party at a friend's house. The kind of party where women invite all their friends over to see a demonstration or two and then buy a bunch of make-up/jewelry/home decor/kitchen products/etc. so the hostess gets a bunch of free stuff. I love that kind of party! One of the other women there brought her one week old son with her. He was sleeping peacefully in his little car seat carrier thingy and I'm sure Mom was glad to get out of the house. That's not the problem. She was going to change and feed him so she picked up him and his diaper bag. Something fell out of the bag and when she bent over to pick it up, I noticed that she was just holding him under the bum with no support for his back or neck. That poor infant's head was rocking and rolling all over the place.

ISN'T SUPPORTING THE NECK AND BACK THE NUMBER ONE RULE OF HOLDING INFANTS?!?!?!?!?! My only explanation for this behavior is that her first time holding a baby was when her son was born a week ago. I gathered from the things she said throughout the party that she was around 30 years old. CAN YOU BELIEVE A THIRTY YEAR OLD WOMAN DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO HOLD A BABY!?!?!? Yet here she is, with a kid, about to RAISE A CHILD without the first idea of how to take care of his basic needs.

Another instance of parental idiocy happened today when I went with my sister to see New Moon. I know that women and gay men of all ages are obsessed with Bella and her selfish indecisiveness and constant attraction to danger. That's fine. But get a babysitter for your seven children under the age of FIVE. Unless it's a kid movie with lots of colors, slapstick comedy, and very little plot, leave them at home! It's not even that I mind the crying and little voices during the movie. It just isn't fair to expect a toddler to sit still through a two and a half hour movie that's dark, slow-moving, and uninteresting (to a two year old anyway).

On another note, I keep hearing ridiculous names that parents give their children:
Ever (just like it's spelled)
Urine (yur-een)
Heaven (wishful thinking much?)
Neveah (Heaven spelled backwards)
Female (rhymes with tamale)
La-a (la-dash-uh)
S'nc'r'ty (Sincerity?)
Shithead (shith-eed)

REALLY? You named your kid SHITHEAD? That one came from one of my high school friend's mom's classes. (I hope I used those apostrophes correctly.) And then there's all the famous people who feel they have to name their kids things like Pilot, Apple, Lyric, Aspen, Lark Song, Fifi-Trixibelle, Peaches, Pixie, Atherton, Nico Blue, Rumer, Satchel, Brawley King, Dweezil, Chance Armstrong (no relation to Lance), Diva, and my personal favorite...Moon Unit (I guess that's how it feels to be Frank Zappa's daughter). No wonder regular people are naming their children crazy things...they're trying to live up to Hollywood namesakes!

I can respect that parents don't want their children to be one of seven Michaels in their class at school. Whatever. But sometimes I think parents are so eager to give unique names that they fail to realize what that name is going to mean for that kid. Now, there is always speculation on some of those names I listed above. I don't have firsthand knowledge of all of them, but I'm only three degrees of separation at most. I just really wonder how those kids feel about their names when they're all grown up.

I wish people were responsible enough to spend even a minute thinking about what they're doing before they decide to have children. I had a teacher in high school who would sometimes stand in the hall during class changes, blow a whistle at kids doing stupid things and tell them to get out of the gene pool. It's too bad he's not the real deal. Some kids might actually have a chance at not being raised by idiots.

And on a completely random side note, Shithead did not come up on spell check. :)

Kicking the Habit

I have been a nail biter/cuticle chewer since I was knee high to a grasshopper. I've never really thought much about it. But I've recently decided that it's super gross. So I really tried to think about when/why I do it.

I remember the summer after high school graduation, my nails grew so long so fast. Probably because I literally had not a care in the world. I also like to fool myself into thinking that I don't stress out about anything.

HA!

It's been a long time coming for me to realize that I stress internally over EVERYTHING. Which is fine. I guess. It works for me. But I am determined not to let that translate into me having disgusting fingernails anymore!

So two nights ago I did the unthinkable. I painted my nails PINK. So far, it's working for me. I mean, the pink scares me a little, since I rarely do anything girly. But whenever I find my idle hands finding their way to my face I remind myself that as soon as that nail gets between my teeth, the polish is ruined. And I certainly don't want to spend more time than I have to painting my nails.

We'll see how long this lasts.