Oh, gaaaah, Fay. What a way to make you paranoid and MORE snappy! Eeesh.

Good luck having everyone perceive you as the adorable sweetie pie we know you are. Bless!

I was compensating for doing too much by drinking too much caffeine which is a good recipe for an anxiety attack.

Eee. I did that last week. I know not to, and yet some days it feels like I can't avoid it.

It can be really hard to avoid doing it, especially when we're moving and there is just so much to do.

Hil, the cupcakes sound yummy. I hope your co-workers appreciate them.

{{{{{Fay}}}}

And I'm very glad that I wasn't being bollocked for any of the mountain of things that I'd come up with as being bollock-worthy, you know? That's good. But - ack.

Ouch, Fay, that's tough. And that period of totting up everything you've done wrong in the last forever is the worst.

I was listening to that transgendered kids story on NPR yesterday as well, on the way to pick up Aims, and realized I was getting very *angry*.

Now, I don't really know from sexual identity issues, I'll admit. I know that if Em was a tomboy (which she most emphatically is *not* right now, as the morning whining re: skirts can attest) I would be fine with it. If we have a son and he wants to play with Barbie dolls, I will be fine with it.

I was angry because that poor boy's parents are torturing him. He's, what, 6? 7? He's being taught to lie about himself to his parents...the people he should be able to trust most in the world. He treats the color pink like it's crack and he's three hours out of rehab. "Aaahh...don't let me see pink, I might relapse!"

It's sad. That kid is hurting and his parents are helping to hurt him. He's hurting himself to please them and will never in his life be comfortable or happy if it continues.

I can see how they might be concerned that other people in society will hurt him, with taunts or physically. I don't know...if he were my kid, I think I would tell him "You can play with whatever you want, you can dress however you want, you can look at whatever color you want. But, just in case, here's how to punch someone.

"Don't worry...girls punch people, too, when they need to. Look at Aunt ita."

What MM said. All of it.

I just slept horribly. Woke up about every two hours, scared that I'd overslept and missed giving my students their final.

I don't know...if he were my kid, I think I would tell him "You can play with whatever you want, you can dress however you want, you can look at whatever color you want. But, just in case, here's how to punch someone.

"Don't worry...girls punch people, too, when they need to. Look at Aunt ita."

Aw, what a good Daddy.

I don't need to rant on how boyishness is valued in society in a way that girlishness is not (surveys consistently show that girls who play with "boy's toys" are praised, while boys playing with "girl's toys" are scolded) because many people on the interwebs have gotten there before me. Suffice to say, that shit will have no place in my home. I intend to enforce a strict No Idiotic Double Standards Zone at all times.

To that end, Dylan is extremely fortunate to have a great-aunt who takes immense pleasure in being "gender-neutral" by buying him only pink and purple gifts - the pastel pink sock-cat he takes to bed with thim is just about the gayest thing I've seen in my life. (And I say that with nothing but love and affection. It's SO PINK it goes right past girliness into pure camp. For proof, a picture.)

Whimper.

First day of almost full time hours. Still sleep deprived and on the verge of tears about how crap I feel.

Fay, I'm so sorry. I've also had times when I'm told people are perceiving my tone or words or actions in a way I never intended, and it's an awful feeling.

OMG. I need that sock cat.

Naturally, I agree with Joe on everything he said. As is no surprise to anyone, I am a particularly girly-girl. It drove my tomboy (yet cheerleader) mother to distraction when I would only wear dresses, but she balanced that out with making sure I did all sorts of other stuff, like climb trees. As a result, I could apply make-up from the tallest point of the huge maple tree in our front yard.

With Em, she plays with what she plays with. Be it dolls, trucks, dresses, pants, pink, blue, whatever. And every morning as we drive past the Walgreens construction site, she tells us, "When I get big, I'ma drive the BULLdozer! But not right now, cause I'm too little." and I smile huge.

It's SO PINK it goes right past girliness into pure camp. For proof, a picture.

That really IS a gay sock cat.

I would never want a hypothetical transgender kid of mine to get beaten up for being transgender, but even MORE, I would never, EVER want to give my child the impression that his/her core identity is unacceptable. If your *parents* don't accept who you are, starting at age 3, that's just about the ultimate negation.

When you're an adult, deciding to live as a transgendered person, or deciding to transition, it's hard enough to deal with parental disapproval -- but at least you're an adult and you can reason through it, and say, "Well, that's really devastating, but they're only human." (Or, alternately, "Well, that's really devastating, so fuck them!")

As a kid, you have no capacity to reason through WHY your parents might be rejecting everything that you are; you just know that your *parents,* the people who are supposed to love and protect you, are saying that your entire identity is WRONG.

I would never, EVER want to give my child the impression that his/her core identity is unacceptable. If your *parents* don't accept who you are, starting at age 3, that's just about the ultimate negation.

t points and nods in a vigorous fashion

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