Sometimes you think you’ve seen it all when it comes to the whole “boy toy” and “girl toy” thing. I thought maybe we’d reached Peak Pink, especially with that McDonald’s “chief diversity officer” just last week announcing that:
It is McDonald’s intention and goal that each customer who desires a Happy Meal toy be provided the toy of his or her choice, without any classification of the toy as a ‘boy’ or ‘girl’ toy and without any reference to the customer’s gender. We have recently reexamined our internal guidelines, communications and practices and are making improvements to better ensure that our toys are distributed consistent with our policy.
Apparently that doesn’t mean they have figured out the ridiculousness of this sort of thing though.
Apparently, even super-talented, well-meaning guys still fall back on tired, harmful stereotypes when Mother’s Day rolls around and they want to pander to moms and sell videos to churches.
Too cynical? Maybe. You decide for yourself.
Here’s the latest from “The Skit Guys,” two long-time friends who have made a career out of writing, producing, and starring in family-friendly, faith-inspired videos.
It used to be that the roles of parents were fairly well defined, based on whether the parent in question were a man or a women. Here in the 21st century, where such roles are no longer so clear, many often express confusion about which parenting responsibilities should fall on which parent.
If you too find yourself wondering if you are doing something in the course of raising your children that is really your job, or should be done by your partner, here is a handy guide to help you…
My toddler loves “babywearing” his stuffed monkey, who he also puts down for naps, feeds, and soothes when she is sad or scared.
He also loves running, laughing, spinning, tickle fights, building, and randomly roaring like a dragon/dinosaur/lion.
There are many ways to be “all boy.”
Do you agree?
There’s a little game my son Tucker used to play with us, starting when he was about two years old and continuing up until he was four. We called it “Death Scenes.”
It is pretty much exactly what it sounds like: he took the stage (i.e. he stood in the middle of the living room) and acted out his death in dramatic fashion. Usually this involved a grab to the throat as if choking, much gasping and wide-eyed gurgling, followed by a collapse to the floor, and a slight death rattle as a mortal coil was shuffled off. Sometimes it was instead some mysterious stomach ailment. Almost always, this dramatic death was followed by the sudden resurrection and rise of a gruesome, adorable zombie, who immediately began moans of “Bwaaaaaains! Bwaaaains!” and started attempting to consume the delectable grey matter of his unsuspecting audience. Unlike traditional zombies, these walking dead were typically only repelled via the judicious use of tickles.