How Will Your Kids Remember You?

When I am down on the floor playing “dress up dah-wees (dollies)” with Katie I sometimes find myself trying to subliminally imprint the experience on her. Remember, this moment, Katie. Forget about all the time I spend cooking, cleaning, on the computer and running errands. Remember THIS. Pleeeeeaaaaaase.

The truth is, though, I spend much less time dressing dollies than I do keeping my home. Statistically the odds are not in my favor. At least that’s what I used to think.

Who You Are Matters More Than What You Do

I have thousands of memories of my parents. Some are mundane, others are painful, sweet and/or hilarious. I have memories I know they went to great lengths to create, like trips to Disney World and the Caribbean. Despite their intentions, what really stands out is who they were, not what they did. Even in the most perfectly orchestrated Kodak moment, I most vividly recall my fathers emotional distance or my mothers love.

In The Parent You Want To Be, Les and Leslie Parrot challenge parents to shift their focus from trying to “make memories” to intentionally becoming memorable. The goal is more than immortalizing ourselves in our childrens eyes. I’m sure we would all like that, but the idea of this book is that who our kids become is not accidental.

I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their children. ~ Sir Arthur Conan DoyleCan you think of a time when your child totally embarrassed you by doing something they learned by watching YOU? I have. It’s an ugly slap in the face, but I try to think of it as a needed reminder that my child is learning how to “be” in the world from me.

Your traits matter because your child is watching you more closely than you know. A haunting reminder of just how powerful we are as parental role models is found in the Harry Chapiun classic “Cat’s in the Cradle.” Written in 1974, this song starts out with a natural harmony and depicts the tale of a father with his newborn son. The first time we hear the chorus, the dad is saying:

And he was talking ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew,

He’d say, “I’m gonna be like you, Dad.

You know I’m going to be like you.”

But by the end of the tune, which has followed their relationship through the boy’s tenth birthday, his college years, and finally the father’s retirement, the chorus is bittersweet. It seems the son, who has moved away and started his own family, picked up the one quality his father hoped he wouldn’t pass along – the quality of being too busy for relationships. The father has called his son to see if the two of them can get together. “I’d love to, Dad, if I could find the time,” answers his son. In the final chorus, the father’s words ring true:

And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me,

He’d grown up just like me.

My boy was just like me.

Select Your Intentional Traits, Then Watch Them Bloom In Your Child

A child is not a vase to be filled, but a fire to be lit.  ~Francois RabelaisWhen you think of your son or daughter as an adult, what do you see? Do you hope they’ll be insightful, authentic, or visionary? If you’re anything like I was you might think these traits are too conceptual to model in everyday life. This book changed my mind.*

My children will be grown before I get the hang of the traits I’ve selected (I picked patience as one of my traits). In the spirit of authenticity (hmmm. . . is that another one?), I admit that I fail daily. But having something to aim for has helped me make small changes. I return again and again to this book when I am discouraged or lost when it comes to parenting. While this book doesn’t tell me how to gracefully pry my tantruming two year-old off of Barnes and Nobles’ floor, it reminds me why I endure public humiliation, sleep deprivation, and a myriad of other discomforts.

Could you use some parenting inspiration??? For a chance to win a free copy of The Parent You Want to Be, share one of your parenting goals in the comment section. If you’re not a parent, enter anyway! This book makes a great gift. Just share a trait about a parent you admire (your own or someone else’s), and then maybe you can give them the book as a gift if you win ; – ) The winner will be announced next Monday.

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While every other freshman on campus was hanging out in the coed drinking soda and watching movies, my college roommate was installing our very own cappuccino maker while playing the enchanting voice of Andrea Bocelli in the background.  It’s tempting to rummage through storage and find a pic to post here, because you would not believe this unassuming 90 pound blonde Southern Baptist was really a spitfire with brains.

It was funny, really, to watch people encounter her. Although hardly intimidating with her open expression and delicate hands roaming the air while she talked, this girl dominated class debates and left bewildered students wondering what hit them. By our junior year she was working downtown in an $800 designer suit.

I . . . was a waitress.

What AM I good at?

While we took most of the same classes and made the same grades, our lives could not have been more different. She had vision. She knew how to make life happen. I didn’t.

Toward the end of our college careers (I believe it was the semester she was interning as a lobbyist in Washington), I began slowly trying to figure out what to do with my life. A patron of our school had just donated $1M so that students could take the Johnson-O’Conner Aptitude Test for free, so I signed up.

The tests were crazy. I left the 3-D puzzle about 90% unfinished (which is why I’m not an architect) and failed to identify most of the “what’s different about this picture” elements (not a detective, either). However, the nonsensical words that flashed up on the screen like indecipherable alien advertising was a cake walk. I was fluent in gibberish within the hour.

The results are in…

At my post-assessment conference I got some of the most important and damaging information I have ever received. On the one hand, I was good with words and ideas. “Go into teaching or marketing,” the guy tells me. “You’ll be really good at it.” Awesome!!! Then he adds, “But teach at the college level. You’re not cut out for working with young kids.”

The power of words

It was at that exact moment that my career as a mother flashed before my eyes and then died a slow, bloody death. After seeing all the sacrifices my mom made to care for my sis and I as a single parent I already had my doubts about whether I wanted children. But to think that I would be so lousy that they wouldn’t want me . . . why bother?

That was how I felt for years. I obsessed over every late period, terrified that I was pregnant. Then out of the blue a desire more powerful than my selfishness and insecurity awoke within. Children means being on-call all the time, I said to myself. It means giving your life to people that will become teenagers and tell you how uncool you are and then foregoing the beach house to help them pay for college. No fun, I said.

But you want to and you know it, replied the voice deep within. And I did. So we did. And here she is:

And she has been such an incredible gift, we got a little greedy (that’s baby #2 below).

Born to mother?

I’ll bet you can rattle off a list of women you know that are “natural born mothers.” Nurturers filled with patience and insight into how little hearts and minds work. I’m not on anyone’s list when it comes to that, not even my own.

There are things I’m not cut out for and I’m okay with that most of the time. But motherhood? It’s too worth it. Remember the movie Rudy? It’s the one about that little guy that wanted to play football at Notre Dame. Most of the time I feel like the Rudy of motherhood. We probably ALL do at some point.

Even when the playing field is level, like it was when my roommate and I made the same grades, personal vision and purpose make all the difference in how things turn out. That’s why tomorrow I’m  going to be giving away one of my all-time favorite parenting books. It’s not a book about techniques. It’s not a book telling you what kind of children to raise. It’s a book about gaining a vision for your family. It’s about becoming the traits you want to see in your children.

Whether you are a natural mom or playing catch-up like me, this book has something for you, so come back tomorrow.

Oh, and this it NOT the giveaway I already mentioned.  That one is coming soon.

Please tell me: How do you inspire yourself when you’re not feeling the “motherhood groove?”Similar Posts:

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Dear Daniel,

I think it’s funny that you offered to write a Father’s Day post. Cute really, but did you really think I would let you? What would be next? Me sending you out to buy your own birthday presents?

No. I have something to say about Father’s Day. And I’m saying it directly to you (via my blog, which I guess technically makes it indirectly).

Despite how I love sleep and regret the early morning routine that goes along with having a toddler, one of my favorite moments of the day is first waking up. When I hear Katie stirring I know what is coming. Half asleep she calls “Daaaaaaaady!!!”

Of course, you were up long before us, spending time with the Father of us all, but you always hear that call. No matter where you are in the house only seconds go by before you are at our bedside, scooping your sleepy girl into your arms for an early morning cuddle.

Do you know what I think about as I lay there trying to muster the motivation to give up my snuggly body pillow? I relish the fact that you are our daughters first thought. That she waits for you to come . . . and you always do.

One day our daughter will wake up alone. She’ll be on her way to becoming an adult. I hope that when this time comes her first waking thoughts will be of her Heavenly Father. I hope that she will be aware of His presence and love for her, just as she is aware of yours in these early years.

It seems like that’s how it’s supposed to work. I’ll never know for sure . . . I never had what you two have. All I can say is I really needed to witness this. I needed to know firsthand that the love of a father is more than a myth.

You cannot comprehend the power of what you’re doing. You see one little girl, but there are really two hearts in your hands. The little girl in me is watching, believing, and letting go of the pain.

Thank you. You’re an amazing man and an incredible father.

I love you.

Happy Father’s Day

~ MeSimilar Posts:

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Photo Credit: Cecil Graat

When my friend Destiny recently tweeted she was writing a post on helicopter parents I was almost afraid to read it. I was pretty sure the intro would include a photo of me with a propeller on my head followed by  a link to this blog.

Except that my friend is not mean, so I was pretty sure knew she wouldn’t do that.

Why Are People Staring at Me?

In many people’s minds, I am probably the very definition of a helicopter parent. I don’t let my babies “cry it out,” don’t vaccinate, co-sleep, and practice extended-breastfeeding, etc. Actually, if you want a really extreme example, I don’t leave Katie in the church nursery because we don’t feel it’s in her best interest to leave her with a new stranger each week. In other words, we are VERY involved, some might say too much.

On the flip side, I rarely intervene in Katie’s conflicts unless it is to correct or discipline her. When a mom offers to cancel a play date because her little one has the sniffles, I tell her we should keep it. Encountering illness is good for Katie’s immune system. It’s how it learns to work.

Encountering difficulties of all kinds is a positive thing in my opinion, and I try not to get in the way. The main thing that makes my style “extreme” is that I insist on myself, my husband or another primary caregiver being present at almost every moment to mentor her through the challenges she faces.

We Learn from the Past and Forge Better Paths

The choices I’m making in parenting are very different from the way I was raised. I have hopes, but not a rock solid conviction, that I am helping Katie become the adult I see in my mind’s eye. It often feels like a crapshoot. I read a parenting book, then another that critiques the first, then another that modifies the second, and finally one more that discredits the last two and takes me back to the first. My goal is clear, my methods are changing.

Katie, when I look at you I see deep empathy, humor, intelligence and wit. When you’re grown, I hope with all my heart that you will love others freely . . . without allowing yourself to be manipulated. I want you to choose what is right because  you have learned to love what is good, not because you want to avoid “punishment.” I want you to be free to take risks, and wise enough to know which risks are too foolish to take. I want you to know that your life is a gift to the world. Not in the “thank you for gracing us with your presence, Highness” sense, but in the “pour your heart and life into pursuits that matter” sense. Because you, little one, have a destiny. It is an honor to walk with you in these early years, to try to find the right road together.

Sorry, I just wrote a letter in the middle of my post, didn’t I? Sheesh. I guess what I’m trying to say is that my friend Destiny’s post got me thinking about capital “D” Destiny; i.e., the amazing purpose I now see unfolding for my life, as well as my husband’s and daughter’s lives. When I focus on this it becomes easier to endure some of the daily drudgeries that are a necessary part of the journey.

It has become clear to me that helping my children achieve their destiny is a big part of my own. In order to raise authentic, compassionate, visionary, connected individuals, I have to become one myself. Boy do I have my work cut out for me!!!

So, my question to you is: What traits do you want to see in your adult children? How are you going to instill them? Who do you think you will become in the process?Similar Posts:

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When I was in the fourth grade I started a petition to get my gym teacher fired. My mission? To rid Stonegate Elementary student life from the stench of unequal treatment. Ahem.

It took me 10 years to admit this embarrassing fact to my husband and less than 24 hours later I’m telling you. Obviously I had a few things to learn about tact and consideration toward the feelings of others, but looking back it is one of the first times one of my most dominant traits surfaced.

I am a revolutionary.

A traditional, cooking, cleaning, take care of my man (and honor him, too), stay at home with the kids, churchgoing, law-abiding revolutionary.

Being the “good kid” that I was, I was totally humiliated when I was called down to the principal’s office and handed my little hand-scrawled manifesto. My first revolutionary act was a bust and I was ashamed. I decided not to be a revolutionary anymore. I crossed it off my list of possibilities.

But deep down, it’s who I am.

It’s almost impossible to overestimate the value of knowing what gifts and talents we have to give to the world. Through my teens and most of my twenties I searched for meaning and purpose and found nothing. Looking back, I realized I had crossed some of the most important roles off my list too early in the game. Roles like mother and homemaker. This year I am adding revolutionary back on my list, too.

Due to some changes in our circumstances, Daniel, Gigi and I are reassessing things. We’re keeping our vision but scaling down our plans. We’re defining what’s essential, and for me it is this:

Our home must be a place people can gather.

If our children do not learn “love thy neighbor” from us we have failed. For us, the “net” that typically draws people is healthy living. We want to host a time each week where friends gather and learn a new skill or recipe (like making rye bread, fermenting your own sauerkraut, time-saving tips, or making broth). We also want to host mini-gardening classes and outdoor events. We plan to be like normal folks and do movie nights and stuff, too ; – )

I have often wondered if I have missed my window. Now that I am a parent I want to change the world. Ironically, because I am a parent I have no free time. How can I change the world when I consider five minutes alone in the bathroom a break? I look at that list of things to become/things to do and it seems impossible.

What to Do… How to Live

Maybe it would be better to focus on raising my children to be world-changers. Maybe I should invest in them and then give them to the world as my contribution. In a sense, I think this is what I’m doing. But on the other hand, what better way to instill them with a sense of purpose than to have one of my own? Something I can share with them, invite them to care about when they are young before they learn to be “cool” or “bored” with those kinds of things. How better to help them to catch a vision for their lives than to live it with them?

So here is my resolve: Through my homemaking, mothering, wifely ways I am going to change my community a little at a time. It may not look like much is happening, but it will.

“Never believe that a few dedicated people cannot change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that does.”

Margaret Meade

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Whew! This week has been a whirlwind. Here’s to all of you who made it through! [raises kombucha glass]

This busy week found me experimenting with recipes for the Standard Process Cleanse and sharing beautiful birth stories. An unexpected pleasure – I also got to photograph this little sweetie!

Welcome Isabella Marie!

Merci beaucoup for sleeping through our session and only pooping on your mom ; – )

This week I was reminded by my midwife Angela (the one that helped me birth Katie) how disconnected I was just a few years ago. While my besties from college moved away one by one to start their own adventures, I focused on my career and let everything else shrivel up and die. I couldn’t keep a cactus alive, literally.

It was a sad day when I neared the 6 month mark of my first pregnancy and realized I had no friends. No one to throw me a baby shower. Well, maybe I could have found one, but there would be no one to invite! (FYI, I did actually get a shower. My one friend threw it for me and the guests were mostly family.)

Remember how I said I’d devoted my life to my career? Well, they threw me a baby shower, too. It was really awkward. I worked in a male dominated industry so what ended up happening is all the men sent their wives, whom I barely knew! It was a really sweet thought and I was incredibly grateful, but I decided to get my own friends at that point. Otherwise I was going to have to rent some for the weekend so my Facebook profile wouldn’t be totally pathetic.

This probably says more about me than anything, but I expected the motherhood circle to be hard to break into. I was so wrong. It took awhile to find the women I “click” with, but since then I have been amazed by how open, wise and encouraging moms are. Actually, I really shouldn’t say moms. I’ve met a lot of fantastic dads, too.

So much has changed in the last few years and I am beyond grateful for the inspiring men and women (both online and off) that now form my community. Thanks to all of you that commented and emailed me this week. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy hearing from you.

And now, because I love you (I really do!) I have a GIVEAWAY for you!

These personalized totes from Velvet Petals come in a variety of color and pattern options. They’re perfect for stashing toddler snacks or something more sophisticated, like your sudoku puzzle book.

For a chance to win a Velvet Petal personalized tote  leave a comment below telling me . . . well, whatever you want to tell me!

Don’t be shy! Here are some ways to earn extra entries:

* Tweet this contest for 1 entry
* Post this contest on Facebook for 1 entry
* Subscribe to Mommypotamus for 1 entry (If you already subscribe post a comment saying that.)
* Blog about this giveaway with a link back here for 1 entry.
* Follow Mommypotamus on Twitter: @mommypotamus for 1 entry. (If you already do post a comment saying so)

*Each entry needs it’s own comment. Unfortunately I can not accept combined entries as more than one entry. For example,  sending in one entry that says you blogged and tweeted about this post will only count as 1 entry.

Good luck!!!

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I’ve got to be honest. There are times when I fervently wish life came with a mute button. I almost feel guilty even saying that, because I am so grateful for Katie’s active little mind. She is so inquisitive, so talkative, so incredibly nurturing toward babies. In other words I adore her.

And yet.

After answering the same question for the twentieth time I become the “BECAUSE I SAID SO” parent. I process things internally. Katie is quite the opposite, and I often feel outmatched by her needs for intellectual stimulation, conversation and company. Sometimes is just feels like a job. A job with no sick days and no paid vacation.

Keeping it Real

I say this because I don’t want my next statement to seem like some “pie in the sky” airbrushed version of motherhood. Everything written above is true, but with Babypotamus’ arrival getting closer something has shifted. Despite all the challenges, Katie and I are on a second honeymoon of sorts, all over again. This Round 2 is our last season together as two peas in a pod. It’s precious in a way I can’t describe.

When she yells, “I love you SOOOOOO MUCH!!!” I want to bottle it and keep it forever. It melts my heart when she squeals “I’m getting all fwesh and clean!” in the bathtub. I snuggle her more at night, knowing that soon Daddypotamus will get all the cuddles while I’m up for 2am nursing sessions. Yesterday morning we took her “twins” for a walk and played ball in the front yard. Nothing eventful happened, but for some reason I wished I could burn it into my memory forever.

What Say You, Experienced Moms?

For those of you who have multiple children I have a question. What did you do to make each season special? How did you relish time with your little ones before a baby’s arrival? How did you welcome the new baby and celebrate the beginning of a new season? Before you click away without leaving a comment remember this:

Good parenting doesn’t come from reading all the right books. Your experience is more valuable to us newbies than you probably realize, so please share!Similar Posts:

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Sometimes, when I look at Katie I think about her becoming a mother someday. I marvel that her tiny two year-old frame already carries the seeds of life that will (hopefully) one day bloom into beautiful, sweet grandchildren. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Before I let my imagination get too far in the future I want to look back. To my own mother. To my own childhood.

Growing up I wanted to be a ballerina, a novelist, and a minister, but never a mother. It would be easy to get the wrong idea from this statement. It would be easy to think that I didn’t like my mom, but the exact opposite is true.

I adored her.

I remember how she used to fold me into her arms and sing “Love Lifted Me” when I was sad. She is a terrible singer, but I could feel with every ounce of my soul that she hurt with me, loved me, and would see me through all my troubles.

When I was a teen and the gulf between us felt larger (and scarier) than ever before she “found” me over and over again. No matter how lost I felt or how unsure things had become, I was never completely alone. One day after a huge fight she disappeared into the kitchen. I thought I had finally left alone to brood. Um, no. A few minutes later she stepped through the kitchen doorway with a large, naked, raw chicken shoved up her forearm. As she chased, screamed and clobbered me with that clammy pink chicken I tried to hold on to my teen angst. Really, my effort was heroic. In the end we both collapsed in hysterical laughter.

I could rattle off a thousand reasons I adore my mom. Reasons I didn’t want to become a mom? Just one.

It looked too hard.

Being raised by a single mom is a hard thing to watch from the inside. The sacrifice, loneliness and financial burdens are hard to put into words. Growing up in the age of feminism I thought “who needs that?” Why not seek a life of professional notoriety, luxury vacations and spa days? Sure, I wanted to get married. I was just terrified to have kids.

My first shock came when by then-boyfriend Daniel told me he didn’t believe in chemical birth control. That put a kink in things until I learned about natural family planning. However, his stance on the subject got me thinking about whether it is healthy for married couples to be able to artificially circumvent the natural progression of their union (i.e. children). I began to see my desires in the context of “Peter Pan Syndrome” and longed to feel differently. Miraculously, everything changed in one quick season.

After years of my husband asking me what I wanted to “be,” and receiving a frustrated “I don’t know!!!” I realized it. I had never found my calling because the one I was meant for was the only one I had refused to put on the table. I wanted to be a mother. It took awhile to resolve some health issues until I was able to act on my desire, but what can I say?

I am smitten. With my family. With tiny hands and feet groping for me in the night to snuggle close. The sacrifice is greater than I had even imagined, but I have no regrets.

In my house there are three mothers. One who has led the way, one who is groping her way through, and one who is watching.

The little one is watching. She is nursing her babies and kissing my belly goodnight. These are things I never did. I hope it means we are getting better with each generation.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Isn’t this photo awful? It was taken after a rough night with Katie when she was about 7 months old. I decided to post it today because it looks how I feel. Seriously, I’m fine. Life has never held more purpose or promise, and really I can’t complain (much). Yesterday was just a long day and I’m having a difficult time unwinding.

I like to present the idea that I know what I’m doing in life. Usually it works out for me. Except when I don’t. have. any. clue.

The Mommypotamus definition of “know what I’m doing in life” is knowing my job and knowing how to relax and have fun. Work and play . . . simple as that.

Since becoming a mother these two gauges have become moving targets. With each milestone my parenting objectives change, and so does everything else. Yes, my pre-baby activities (clothes shopping, watching chick flicks, sleeping in) sound heavenly. But they don’t fit my life anymore. Sometimes everything clicks. Right now I am in one of those in-between periods where I need to find new ways to relax in three minutes or less throughout the day.

In fact, I think I’ll go do some research in the tub right now. While I’m soaking, maybe you could tell me:

What are the best ways to relax if you have only 5, 15, or 45 minutes? Do you have a favorite funny blog? An essential oil that lifts your spirits? Some Rescue Remedy, maybe? Hmmm, maybe a fair-trade chocolate bar stashed in your diaper bag?

DON’T SAY FACEBOOK. I already do that ; – )Similar Posts:

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Nothing feels creepier than saying to your good friend, “Hey, can I see your son’s penis?“ But that, friends, is exactly what I recently did. Because I just had to see a certain flap of skin that has been the source of so much controversy.

Just a few years ago, circumcision was something I fully expected to do if Daniel and I had a son. Like many families, we have since changed our minds.

Disclaimer: It makes me sick to think I would write anything that would create offense rather than promote dialogue. I’m not sure that my words communicate my feelings on this subject properly, but I just want to state one more time that this is MY OPINION, humbly offered. I am the judge of no one and apologize if you are offended by this post.

Challenging Conventional Wisdom

It wasn’t an easy break. My Judeo-Christian background teaches that circumcision is something God commanded Israel to do. How could a good and loving God command a traumatic and unnecessary procedure? I have since learned that circumcision as it was practiced then was very different from what’s now common.

What we now call ‘circumcision’ was not performed in the same manner in antiquity (or among many Jews the world over today). At that time it was a ‘cutting of the blessing’ – a very, very small slit made at the end of the penis to allow a few drops of blood to fall.

“Cutting the Blessing” in antiquity was VERY different than today in modern N. American culture where we amputate the entire prepuce organ. Hebrews and early Jews made a very tiny slit in the tip of the prepuce to allow for a few drops of blood to be shed as the blood sacrifice of the covenant. The Hebrew words used for the practice are “namal” and “muwl”. In Hebrew, namal means ‘to clip’ – like one would clip the ends of our fingernails. Muwl means ‘to curtail, to blunt’. Neither of these words mean “to cut” “to amputate” “to remove” “to cut off” etc. There were very different words in Hebrew to represent ‘the cutting off’ or ‘the removal of’. The difference was obviously clear to people at the time.

After all, you could not possibly amputate the prepuce organ in antiquity and expect the child to live! Even today we deal with a 1-in-3 rate of complications associated with prepuce amputation. At that time, babies would have hemorrhaged if this organ were removed, and if they lived through the blood loss, they would have died of disease.

Comment left by Dr. Momma on Dr. Cindy’s blog, “They Don’t Remember.“

The Trend is Changing

More and more families are opting out of this procedure. In my opinion, we are only one or two generations away from pretty much abandoning this practice.

The procedure of routine circumcision became commonplace between 1870 and 1920, and it consequently spread to all the English-speaking countries (England, Canada, Australia and New Zealand). None of these countries now circumcise the majority of their male children, a distinction reserved today for the United States (in the UK, in fact, nonreligious circumcision has virtually ceased).

Motivations for “Medical” Circumcision

Religious Reasons?

Still, I understand why many families go through with it. For me, it was difficult to break with this perceived tradition. The knowledge that modern circumcision is radically different from ancient Jewish practice made it easier, as did New Testament scriptures that clearly discourage circumcision for gentile converts.

In preparing for this post I came across a much more disturbing fact. Circumcision as it is now performed in the U.S. was promoted by doctors John Harvey Kellogg and Sylvester Graham as a preventative measure for masturbation. What??? According to Dr. Kellogg:

A remedy for masturbation which is almost always successful in small boys is circumcision. The operation should be performed by a surgeon without administering an anesthetic, as the brief pain attending the operation will have a salutary effect upon the mind, especially if it be connected with the idea of punishment. In females, the author has found the application of pure carbolic acid to the clitoris an excellent means of allaying the abnormal excitement.

Motivations for Medical Circumcision

Carbolic acid on young women? How many families are going along with this because they think they are respecting some time-honored Judeo/Christian ceremony when in fact they are submitting their sons to a procedure advocated by men that came up with THAT? The reasoning (decrease the capability for sexual pleasure to increase chastity) is the same that is currently used to justify horrifying female genital mutilation practices in parts of Africa. Blech.

The Undeniable Importance of Fitting In

Neither tradition nor the desire for our child to “fit in” are compelling enough reasons for our family to circumcise, so I’m at peace with our choice. I do want to say, however, that I do not judge parents who have had this procedure done. These parents love their sons and did what they felt was best for them. In a culture that views circumcision as something healthy and hygienically necessary their choice is not surprising. Except for two, I actually don’t know which of my friends sons are intact and which are circumcised. If someone tells me that their son is circumcised it isn’t going to change my opinion of them. I won’t love them any less, and that’s the truth.

I am not an expert on circumcision. There is a lot I don’t know. For instance, some rabbis may perform the tiny cut version of circumcision rather than removing the whole foreskin. For those to whom the tradition is very important that might be an option. Please leave a comment and tell me what I don’t know!

All I’m saying is: The more we learn about the history of modern circumcision, the risks of complication, and the long-term effects of pain during infancy on the adult brain, the more we need to reconsider this procedure.

Third Party Resources on Circumcision

Photos of Circumcision – WARNING! Very Graphic!

Motivations for Modern “Medical” Circumcision

Dr. Momma: Are You Fully Informed? Great article plus a list of links, books, and other resources

Infant Pain, Adult Repercussions: How Infant Pain Changes Sensitivity In Adults

Dr. Momma: Cut Vs. Intact Outcome Statistics

Babies Do Feel Pain

Basic Care of the Intact ChildSimilar Posts:

• If You Think I’m Crunchy
• Aptitude or Attitude? What Motherhood is Really About
• Letter to Daddypotamus