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Straight From the Bottle

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  • We Don't Need No Stinkin' Theme

    Archer's 2nd birthday is coming up around the corner and apparently that's supposed to mean something to me. I'm supposed to be planning and booking and organizing and coming up with creative ways to celebrate. At least that's what I'm told.

     

    "What are you doing for Archer's birthday?"

     

    "Um. I dunno."

     

    "Do you have a theme? A clown? Have you pre-ordered his cake?"

     

    "Um. No."

     

    For the record (and for those of you just joining Straight From the Bottle/unfamiliar with my other blog) Archer isn't exactly the most social of toddlers. He likes dirt. And rocks. And dogs. And running wild at the zoo. But parties? Not so much, so I'm a little annoyed by all the birthday fuss and feel like I'm some kind of traitor to mommy-culture for not feeling any excitement what-so-ever when it comes to birthday planning.

     

    "Why should I plan a fancy shmancy birthday for my child when he will hate it?" I think. "Why should I invite every child I have ever met in Archer's age bracket when he has never even acknowledged them for a second?"

     

    Right? Right?

     

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  • Don't Call Him Daughter

    When Archer was a newborn baby, he was often confused as being a girl. I didn't care. I refused to subscribe to the common powder-blue "it's a boy!" newborn attire. He wore pink sometimes and the occasional ladybug onesie (it was cute, okay?) and was thus commonly referred to as "a sweet little girl."

     

    Half the time I went along with it. Because who the hell cares? They all look like girls at that age. Or boys. Same diff, right?

     

    "She's adorable! What's her name?"

     

    "Bob."

     

    "Is Bob short for something, or..."

     

    "Nope. Just Bob." 

     

    But when yesterday a woman told her binky-stealing daughter to "leave the little girl alone and please give her back her pacifier," and was referring to Archer as said "little girl" I got pissed. Because DUH! Does this child look like a girl to you? (Hint: "Hell no!")

     

    Barefoot in the Kitchen

     

    Unfortunately, for once in my camera-happy-to-the-point-of-complete-annoyance-to-everyone-around-me, I did not take a single photo of Archer yesterday. (He was wearing a t-shirt with a metal-guitar-dude, camo pants and a beanie that said "I'M A FRIGGIN BOY YOU IDIOT!" Seriously.)

     

    I know how stupid this probably sounds, especially after my very serious post below, but to my credit, I said nothing. Instead I nodded sweetly to the blind lady and her "annoying little boy" and walked away.

     

    ***



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About the Blogger

rebecca woolf

Rebecca Woolf in LA

Who says becoming a mom means succumbing to laser tattoo removal and moving to the suburbs? This young writer and mother of one gives it to you Straight From the Bottle.

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