Author: rocknrolldad

Entering a public playground is much like intruding into gang territory without anyone to vouch for you. The turf war is real, and these stay-at-home moms, dads, and nannies are playing for keeps. If your daily intake of cock-eyed stares or side-mouthed whispers is at all lacking, look no further than your local jungle gym. Even if it is located within your neighbourhood green space, don’t expect to simply stroll in without receiving a little initiation and intimidation.

I had no idea of the possessiveness some parents held towards an area designated for “everyone’s enjoyment”. When my family and I moved into our new home, we decided to get a lay of the land and go exploring. During our outing, we stumbled upon a park that bordered our’s and an opposing neighbourhood. Seeing that we’d moved from the city’s core, where playing fields were in short supply, we were elated to have found a place to run our little boy ragged.

Upon entering the park, however, we immediately felt an air of passive hostility from the den-parents, who had clearly claimed their stake. As my lil’ man frolicked through the various apparatuses, my wife and I stood steady, holding our ground in case things escalated into fist to cuffs. Gladly, this did not transpire, as we played and left unscathed. Sadly, we would have to endure this experience a few times more before finally gaining some acceptance. It’s hard out here for a parent, am I right?

The 3 Types of Park Parents

These recreational encounters lead me to realize that there are generally 3 types of parents in any park environment.

Second Screen Sitters

These parents are so engrossed with whatever correspondence their smartphone is transmitting, that their kids are left to play second fiddle to cat vines and dick pics. These folks can be located on the park benches that outline the play area, giving zero shits about what mischief their child(ren) may be getting into. And, will only lift their heads if tears are bursting from their ill-supervised offspring. They are the worst.

Drones

Formerly known as “helicopter parents, ” Drones are the complete opposite of the Second Screen Sitters. These parents are ever present, almost to a fault. No activity is executed without their awareness. No accident (however minor) occurs without immediate response. If their child is poised to sneeze, do expect a Kleenex to materialize within a millisecond. These kids will never know what it’s like to be free from their parents’ gaze… EVER!

The Veteran’s Legion

Following a strict credo of “been there, done that”, nothing fazes these seasoned old-timers. The Legion’s members typically have more than one youngster and have witnessed the full spectrum of child-related mishaps. These weekday warriors have endured so many “boos-boos” and scrapes that Band-Aid calls them for first-aid assistance.

Another distinct characteristic of these battle-scarred guardians is their love for gossip, as they tend to have the rundown of all regular park attendees. From lice to pox, if you need to know who your child may want to stay clear of, befriending a vet can be a real asset. Assuming you also accept that your business will now also be subject to public distribution. These are: the brave, the strong, the “I’ve ran out of fucks to give”.

Be it good, bad, or ugly, park life is now our life. As parents, we all have to find ways to entertain our kids. And, if we adults can get along half as well as our children do on the playing field, we all might make it out alive.

Parenting mistakes are as sure a thing as taxes or Trump tweets. They’re unavoidable and will continually happen for the duration of your time as a father (sorry). The trick, however, is to have them occur less frequently and seldom be repeated. A tall order, I know, and usually easier said than done.

My 4 Parenting Mistakes

Various parental resources are quick to outline the common missteps parents may commit. But, what about those recognized blunders that may actually work to our childís benefit? Well, in there lies the question. Here are 4 mistakes I’m happy I’ve made as a parent.

Raising the Child I Want Instead Of The Child I Have

Applying undo pressure on children is a practice I reject wholeheartedly. That said, I do believe in guidance, accountability, and acceptable conduct for my son. I need him to know that there are right and wrong ways to go about things. Although I have no predetermined expectation of the child I wish him to be. I do have a very clear idea of who Iíd prefer him not to become. Allowing him to develop poor habits in the name of self-discovery, to me, is asinine. Therefore, I raise the child I want, within reason. In my opinion, there is nothing wrong with imposing a parent’s will to curtail future follies.

Losing My Patience

Admittedly, this is a behavioural defect I wrestle with often. I’m generally very accommodating when it comes to granting an ample margin for growth. However, there are occasions where patience is no longer an option. Especially in scenarios that involved recurring misjudgments on the part of my boy. I’m perfectly content with him faltering once, twice, or even a third time, to gain a valuable lesson. I’ll always be there to explain the error of his ways so that he may make better decisions. Nevertheless, when numerous lapses yield no greater understanding, I must then “drive the point home” vehemently. Granted, these aren’t my finer moments and even I’m left dumbfounded by the frankness of my candour. But as I sometimes say, “floral bouquets are the only things meant to be pretty, always”.

Criticism

This is not to be mistaken with “tiger parenting”, setting unrealistic expectations, nor comparing his achievements to other children. Not at all and none of the above. What this is, is not allowing him to believe that everything he does is unquestionably great. I try to run an honest household. Therefore, the stark reality of the pains associated with truth will rear its ugly head from time to time. I challenge him to do the best he can. Calling him out if I think he has phoned in his efforts. I will say to him simply, “What do you think of your work?” or “Do you think you could have done this better?”. These subtle critiques encourage engagement where we can then explore possible improvement. For, let’s all face it, this world is plagued with “special kids” who expect participation awards. Mine will not be one of them.

Trying to Make My Child Happy

Living vicariously through your kids can be problematic in itself. I’ve internalized his happiness as my own and relish in his joy. I strive to give him the childhood I never had and will continue to do so, unapologetically. That said, he understands that what he perceives as “happiness” is subject to rules and predilections set by his mother and I. And that deviation from set guidelines will certainly result in some sorrowful consequences. I won’t grant him all he desires. Though I will show him that the world is his oyster, assuming that he’s ready to sift through the muck to find it. Hopefully, he’ll then learn to be happy not because everything is good. But, because he can see the good in everything.

Mistakes Prove That You’re Trying

I once heard someone say, “I learn so much from my mistakes, I’m thinking about making a few more”. Although comical, they weren’t too far off the mark. Raising kids isn’t a set procedure. So, every once in a while, our faults may provide our greatest advantages.

I (like many men) am a father, first and foremost. Sure, I have a surplus of interests that expand past this singular definition of myself. But, at my core, being a dad remains my principal focus and passion. Therefore, it irks me that some still view active fathers as an anomaly. Well, allow me then to set the record straight, “us dads are parenting the shit out of our kids”. Get used to it.

Misconceptions About Fathers

Father’s Day hurries closer, and I feel it’s time to clarify some misconceptions about fatherhood. For too long, we’ve been seen as second-string relief in this parental league. In fairness, mothers have traditionally (and archaically) been entrusted with the responsibility of primary caregiver. Additionally, many have done so without the aid of a counterpart. That acknowledged, we have entered into an era where dads are adamant about changing this long-standing narrative. While vigorously contributing to the raising of their children and being omnipresent. We are no longer merely participants in the parental experience. We are an all-encompassing source of guidance. Rendering the phrase “wait until your father gets home” to soon be inapplicable. Because frankly, we are already fucking here.

No Need for Concern

When I’m out with my son alone, I at times feel the watchful eyes of concerned older women. Not because they feel that he may be in immediate mortal danger. But, rather than them wondering ìwhere his mother is?. Occasionally, I’ll receive an inquisitive, slighted comment such as, “Are you giving Mom a break?” or, my personal favourite, “spending some time with Dad, huh?” As if to imply that I havenít been soundly fastened to this child since he emerged from out of “cupid’s cupboard”. I never reply with agitation. But may, one day, conjure a tale of my wife’s sudden abandonment for a younger man (or woman) and “a new start”. Leaving us highly capable boys to fend for our dear ol’ selves. That ought to modify them beyond consolation. After each occurrence, however, I then stop to think, “what must we do, as fathers, to diminish this perception?”. The answer is obvious: “keep being great dads”.

The Unapologetic Father

In my household, I’ve secured the predominant role of “go-to parent”. That is not to say that my wife isn’t an incredibly proficient and awe-inspiring mother. That she most certainly is, without question. It just so happens that the dice have rolled in my favour. Things may change in the future. Who knows? I state this solely to illustrate that being a dad doesn’t mean what it did 30, 20, or even 10 years ago. Those past brush strokes can’t be used to paint the current picture. I know so many amazing modern fathers whose hearts beat exclusively for their children. We have knuckled up and are fighting the good fight. We are the new and improved unapologetic fathers.

Depression is a recognized mental affliction that affects roughly 300 million people worldwide. Through a multitude of symptomatic conditions, this dark passenger resides in our vulnerabilities, rendering its sufferers marred by sadness, feeding upon lifeís joys and drives. For many, itís a personal prison fitted solely for its captive, utterly inescapable and ubiquitous, or so it can seem. In regards to parents, itís an illness normally associated with mothers as postpartum depression can linger for years after childbirth. But, what about the fathers who have to endure these low points? How do we dads cope once our demons circle closer?

Life as a Depressed Dad

I’ve dealt with varying degrees of depression throughout my life. From cripplingly desperate days when emerging from bed seemed arduous. To countless episodes of loneliness and a nagging sorrow, I narrowly shook. I’ve run the gamut of self-loathing. It’s through these struggles I can state, assuredly, that such melancholy doesn’t miraculously vanish once one becomes a dad. Contrarily, parenthood may trigger this irrational misery further. Being that, stereotypically, fathers are commonly viewed as the emotional anchor of a family unit. Often choosing not to disclose their anguish due to a misconceived rationalization, better known as “manning up”.

A Bout of Hopelessness

A year after my son was born, I experienced a rather insufferable bout of hopelessness. Life had quickly changed, and I began bludgeoning myself with questions of insurmountable doubt. “What future can I possibly provide a child?” “What am I doing with my own life?” “Have I made a colossal mistake in becoming a parent?”… There was no end to my insecurities. Each apprehension tumbled me farther down the rabbit hole. So deep that no light could pierce my increasingly clouded perspective. I was in pretty shitty shape. But, finally found solace from my despair through my child.

The Breakthrough

I’ve learned to leverage fatherhood as a means to combat the bleaker moments. It’s hard to wallow in gloom knowing there’s someone in need of my care. It feels irresponsible to focus on my shortcomings, knowing my boy requires happiness. Miles pulls me from beneath the covers each morning because it’s necessary to live life for him. Although my anxieties resurface periodically, I now know, like with all things, it shall pass. My advice to any father who wrestles with depression, like myself, is to look to your children for strength. “Be the person your kids see in you.” You are not alone. You have every reason to persevere, staring up at you each day. Be strong. Find peace. You deserve it.

If you are a dad who suffers from depression, there is always help.

So… you’ve probably read the title above, huh? And, you’re likely wondering if Iím often prone to self-harm? Moreover, is it possible for one to actually sleep with “one eye open”? Being that my better half has surely also seen it. Before any interventions are staged on my behalf. Or, protective services are called to ensure my dwindling safety. I do realize how potentially problematic such a statement may seem. Although it’s an actuality I have long come to terms with. Allow me to explain a little further.

The Love For a Child

Aren’t a parent’s biased affections towards their children instinctively predetermined? If your standpoint is “no,” and such an infatuation is developed over time. I appreciate your rationale, but Iíll choose to politely disagree. If you concur, however, preference to one’s child over that of a spouse should come as no shock. Additionally, I believe a parentís obligation is to love their children above all others, including themselves.

Caught In a Love Triangle

I’m enamoured with my wife and have been for more years than I can recall. We met in our first year of high school and have remained best friends throughout a wealth of adversity. Our bond is that of a shared history adorned with the kinks and snags we all experience. She has been my “ride or die,” and to her, I’m forever committed. When our son was born, I was blindsided by how quickly and immensely I’d grow to adore him. I felt guilty that somehow I had betrayed my life-long partner, becoming entangled in an emotional affair (of sorts), that I had no desire to be free from. Worse still, realizing that things between us all would never again be the same. How do we now proceed with this torrid love triangle?

Unconditional Love

Something profound occurs when one becomes a parent: we develop the capability for unconditional love. This relationship is unlike most, as other ties set parameters that, if crossed, can dissolve the union. With children (generally), few things sever the predisposed soft-spot one has towards their offspring, making this particular dynamic uniquely informative. I recognize that my love for my wife has never truly changed. What has, is that I now know the limitlessness of my own adoration. Now, if you’d excuse me, I believe thereís a doghouse with my name on it.

We’ve all seen them. Hell, some of us may very well know a few. Of course, I’m talking about those parents who make the rest of us wonder, how it is that they qualify to raise another human being. Many of these trainwrecks are barely competent in sustaining their own existence, yet felt that a baby was somehow in their wheelhouse.

Not everyone is meant to be a parent. And, I will take it one step further by stating, I applaud those who choose NOT to have children. These reluctant guardians are realists who recognize that clothing and feeding your lil’ ones are merely the basics of a far more involved effort and frankly, want no part of it. I wholeheartedly respect their position and commend their foresight. Because keeping a child above ground and amongst the living are mere table stakes.

For the others, however, those who lacklusterly chose to reproduce. Those who leave their kids run recklessly and ill-guided to an extent that borders on abuse. Those who clearly had no intention of giving this parenting thing a genuine try. Allow me to propose that if these miscreants feel such a paternal urge to bear offspring, why not implement a “parental license”?

The Parenting License

Much like any undertaking that may result in the marring of life. Licensing is a means of determining whether or not the applicant is truly adept at handling such a venture. We wouldnít hand car keys to a toddler or a gun to a homicidal sociopath. Then why entrust a baby to an imbecile? Just because one possesses the capability to breed should not certify them to do so. How many horror stories must grace our nightly news of children found wandering the streets at ungodly hours because their mother “went out for pizza at 1 am”? [True story] Or, an infant left alone in an unattended vehicle because dear ol’ dad hopped out to run “a quick errand”. [You can’t make this shit up] These instances and many who chime a similar tone are common and only further a need for earned privilege.

Rules & Conduct

So, how would we ever go about administering such a radical notion? Well, I’m glad you asked. Each prospective parent must subject themselves to an introspective screening process. Whereby, they are asked 3 simple questions:

• Are you willing to hand your life over to your child?

• Do you understand that “parenting” and “selfishness” cannot coexist?

• Are you having this baby for their sake or yours?

Those answers would then establish their eligibility to proceed with more advanced parental components such as care, time, and cost (both financially and emotionally). After a grueling, unspecified, period of harsh realities, they’ll be bluntly asked – “Are you certain you wish to become a parent?” And, if even a momentís hesitation is detected, their license is revoked with no hopes of reconsideration until they figure that shit out.

A Dose of Reality

As satirical as this post may be, its reasoning is completely unsarcastic. Having a baby is hard fucking work, period. For any out there who are wavering in their capacity to become a parent, ask yourself: “Am I willing to give up everything for the betterment of my child?”. The world is, unfortunately, brimming with kids in troubling predicaments because their “parents” chose to fulfill their own self-centered agenda as opposed to honestly addressing that one crucial inquiry.

As my son becomes more self-aware he’s beginning to realize that he’s not quite like other kids. It’s funny, that although we have a biracial family, the topic of ethnicity is seldom acknowledged. My wife and I are both proud of our heritage and expose Miles to as many facets of his varied background as possible. Yet, we never allow our differences nor our mixed-race relationship to be a point of focus. To him, we are just two loving parents who are unified in his well-being and not a hotbed of racially charged viewpoints or distinctions. But, as he grows and begins to question his own identity. We now owe it to him to provide some answers, the best we can.

Teaching Kids About Race

My hometown of Toronto is a bastion of cultural diversity and acceptance. I say this simply because being a biracial child, in this city, is nothing exceptional. Our multiculturalism has spawned a level of tolerance that (frankly) should be mirrored globally. My boy doesn’t experience the curious stares and uninformed questions that so many other mixed-race individuals (throughout the world) have to endure daily. Not to say that he hasn’t had to suffer the odd perplexed glance from onlookers. But, generally, his being the product of crossed cultures isn’t such an issue. This is no more apparent than at his own school, where a high representation of racially ambiguous kids inhabits. I’d like to hope that all of his social encounters will continue to be as inclusive. But sadly, his race will undoubtedly come into consideration one day.

The Perils of Being Black

Growing up as a black male of Jamaican descent in Canada, I’ve luckily had very few racially motivated altercations. Sure, I’ve had run-ins with police often as a result of, “loitering while black”, “being black in the wrong place and time”, “fitting the description” or, my personal favourite, “being black while amongst other blacks”. These rendezvouses normally resulted in harassing warnings with some exchanged epithets, but thankfully, never any arrests. I’ve had brushes with the paranoia of those who felt threatened by my proximity and skin colour. Often proceeding to distance themselves due to insecurity and ignorance. Also, these episodes are very infrequent and mildly comical. Overall, I’ve suffered a smidgen of bigotry so many confront, and for that I’m grateful. All that said, I then have to consider what may await Miles and, will his circumstances be so palatable?

What Is In a Colour?

The exploration of race; how it separates, unites, and defines us all, is a concept no child should have to undertake. All they should be considering is the content of the character of those they wish to associate with and call friends. My hope is that he is never prejudged solely based on his appearance. I hope that he’ll be scrutinized for his actions rather than his genetic makeup. I hope that in turn, he too will grow to recognize quality over the colour of others, for as long as he may live. I hope for a lot of things, but truthfully, I have my fears. All I can do is imbue him with a pride of self. Arming him, intellectually, with a robust knowledge of ancestry (both Asian and Caribbean), while praying that his life is unfettered by discrimination. Race and racism are constructs of man that have gone on to benefit no one. “Only laundry is meant to be separated by colour”.

Out of all the attributes I assumed I’d acquire as a parent, “strict” was never one of them. Being an admitted man-child, I’d imagined my foray into parenthood to teeter closer to a facilitator than a stone-hearted overseer. Yet, upon observing the parenting techniques of others, I’ve grown to recognize my sterner approach. As I traverse the razor-thin line between attentive and “helicopter parent”. I’ve found myself in the buzz-kill grey area in which my son and I currently reside. My name is Miguel and (apparently) I’m a strict dad.

The Drag of Being a Strict Dad

The term “strict” can encompass all manner of rigidity and vigilance. But what it ultimately suggests is a key “no fuck-around” sensibility. For as much as I may struggle with what constitutes strictness, exactly. I’ve witnessed my share of instances that demonstrated what a lack of warranted restrictions could lead to. Although, many parents strive to be viewed as a friends through the eyes of their kids. I’m happy to forego friendship for the instilling of civil conduct and common sense practices.

Nothing makes me feel as crotchety as my gut reaction to my son proclaiming, “Well, X’s parents allow them to do it.” Without fail, the response of “Do I look like X’s dad?”, rolls off my tongue so readily that I wonder if the rebuttal had always been there, awaiting its moment. As I was raised in an era where kids weren’t privy to the leniencies modern children take for granted i.e.; time outs, the allowance of tantrums, personal space protection, etc., I find it difficult, at times, to adjust to these current standards of fatherhood (call me old-fashioned).

As much as I’d like to afford my son the freedom to make unlimited mistakes and carve out his own identity. I can’t help but set parameters for him to operate within. This, admittedly, is a contentious undertaking. As we all know how much kids crave boundaries. But if I don’t attempt to manage his demeanor, I shudder to think who may.

There Are Rules For a Reason

Rules are a big thing in our house. My wife and I put great effort into employing a fair system for all parties involved. However, let’s face it, most guidelines are rigged in our favor. We feel that Miles must earn his privileges as opposed to skating by on entitlement. Neither of us were brought up by families who doled out rewards “just because”. So, we feel the same should apply to our son. We’ve hosted many play dates and have viewed, firsthand, the manner of behavior some kids are taught to as acceptable. Quite frankly, seeing this only fuels our notion of being on the right path. Because, raising children who lack accountability for their actions, are dormant disaster awaiting their fallout come puberty. We’re strict now, to curtail the bullshit later.

Punishment for his transgressions is immediately administered and fitting to the violation committed. But are always done with love, paired with both a lesson and a candid discussion on why such steps needed to be taken. So far, no long-term trauma has been detected and our lil’ man is normally bettered by the experience. …Or so we like to tell ourselves.

The Benefits of Discipline

I frequently hear the argument that being a “strict parent” only stokes the rebelliousness in our children. For that point, I offer this simple retort: children are prone to rebel regardless. Those who run an unrestrained household have just as much chance of revolt. The difference being is, that when kids are taught order and consequence, they are given a greater glimpse into how the real world operates. Societies aren’t sustainable if all within it do as they please, how they please. I hope that by providing Miles with basic discipline, he will then be able to approach life unobscured by a false sense of self-service. That what he does and how he chooses to do so affects others. For, as is often uttered by my late grandmother, “Those who don’t learn, must feel”.

So, you’re a new father, and not only have you not felt much like yourself for the past __ (feel free to fill in the blanks). But, you have also likely done away with any intimacy with your partner, in the pursuit of getting more rest. Does any of this sound vaguely familiar? No need to hang your head in defeat fellas, we’ve all been there. And, for any who claim to have maintained their level of erotic output throughout the entire life-altering shift of bringing a newborn into their lives. They may be either: phoning-in their parental duties or are the very alien inhabitants L. Ron Hubbard had foretold. Either way, fuck those bragging bitches.

Maintaining Your Sex Life After Having Kids

The simple fact is: children can be real ass-hats in the romance department. But, we cannot allow them to extinguish the home fires. As couples, we need to make an effort to preserve that spark which initiated the baby-making in the first place. I’m not going to lie to you, rekindling intimacy will require some work. Your lustful impulses may feel a tad misaligned, but this is absolutely necessary for everyoneís sanity and well-being.

4 Simple Steps to Romance

Here are 4 simple steps to put some much-needed romance back into your lives (and even possibly “the horizontal handshake”):

Take It Easy

Donít expect to “storm the cotton gin” shortly after a human has emerged from your partnerís pleasure canyon. That’s just putting undue stress and pressure on an already sensitive transition. Take it easy. Maybe start off with some playful fondling and go from there. In a way, it’s like rounding the bases all over again. Play nice and don’t go straight for the steal.

Get Away From Your Baby!

Do you have loving parents who would like nothing more than to spend some time with their new grandchild? Do you have siblings who would love to take your baby for an afternoon and spoil them rotten? Have you had offers from a trusted friend to take the baby off your hands for a few hours? Take them up on their offer! I’m not proposing the all-out abandonment of your kin. But, I am suggesting that time away is a good thing. The only way for you to remember who you were as a couple, is to act like you were as a couple. This means detaching yourself from parenthood momentarily to regain your composure.

Make a Date, Keep a Date

If you have just had a child, you are likely long overdue for a little outdoor recreation. The idea of the ‘date night’ (or “afternoon dating”) is nothing new and has been known to aid in the rejuvenation of a coupleís dwindling libido. However; the only way to gain the full benefit of such a useful practice is to “make a date and then keep the date”. I’m certain that you can come up with a whole host of excuses not to go out. But, I guarantee that those excuses will not help you in the long run. Block off some time to be a couple again, if even for just a few hours. Get a sitter and then get gone.

Communication Is Key

This may be a bit obvious, but donít bottle up your emotions. If you have something to say regarding your newfound lack of loving, the cluster-fuck of becoming a new parent, and dealing with your very own living, breathing, suckling lil’ cock-blocker… let that shit out. The only way to get through the hard times is to acknowledge them. Silence only breeds begrudging resentment. And, don’t you already have enough to deal with?

Parenting can do a real number on couples, but it doesnít always have to. Be honest with yourselves, address the issue, and get your groove back [mic drop].

I had recently witnessed a seemingly innocent act of a child get blown way out of proportion on social media. I know… expecting a common sense reaction from trolling internet antagonists would be the equivalent of herding cats in the effort of later using them to locate buried treasure. It is both asinine and unlikely. But allow me to continue, her son innocently discovered her make-up kit and proceeded to adorn his face with lipstick (as nearly any child would do). Her mistake was assuming that the world is flourishing with rational and intelligent human beings. Placing said image onto social media with a whimsical caption, something in the vein of: “Look what I walked in on. LOL”.

Now, anyone who has children or has simply ever met a child would see the aforementioned photo, laugh, ‘like’, and go on with their lives. As I did. However, I later went on to find out that she had received multiple sources of criticism from those who claimed to be “concerned” that she may be “fostering homosexual tendencies” in her son. Let me state for the record and with utter seriousness: “What in the flying fuck, people?!”.

Gender Roles Are For Days of Old

Gender roles are an archaic construct of days past when men and women had designated positions within a (dis)functional society. The idea of the “hunter/gatherer” mentality has long since been extinguished (thankfully). We have come to an understanding that all people are created equal and all are individuals by nature. It is 2025, afterall.

We can not place the burden of gender expectations onto the shoulders of our children. We now live in a country that acknowledges diversity as a cornerstone of civilized progress and certainly can’t revert back to the misogynistic, sexist, and homophobic rantings of prior generations. For fuck sake, currently many top-ranked fighters are women and the majority of the leading fashion houses are spear-headed by male designers. We are not in the 50’s any longer and let’s all be grateful for that.

Children Aren’t Defined By Their Private Parts

When you tell a child that their dreams and aspirations are predetermined by their private parts, you are not only perpetuating bigoted stereotypes but, are also doing them and the planet a severe†disservice. As opposed to allowing your child to discover their identity and reinforcing core values such as open-mindedness and acceptance, you are creating yet another obstacle for them to overcome. Not to mention facilitating the spread of the growing contagion of bullying. Yeah, that’s right, if you harbor fanatical views on “what’s what” in the world and proceed to ladle them onto your kids, they become assholes too… something to consider.

Look, I’m not normally this preachy and for those of you who have managed to make it to the end of this rant-filled post, give yourself a round of applause. Because you are the parents who will change the world’s perception of gender limitation through your children. To those of you who hadn’t, on the other hand, I simply hope your children acquire the wisdom to see where you went so dreadfully wrong.