Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Attachment Parenting

Let me give a caveat here and say that, yes… I’ve read about some forms of this “Attachment parenting” that actually work. Anything in moderation is better than nothing, however, the variety I am about to talk about are obviously those who not only carry it too far, but take a flying leap away from too far and land somewhere in the vicinity of fucking insane.

Apparently, this is all the rage now with the trendy types. From what I understand, it largely involves co-sleeping, breastfeeding (nothing wrong with that normally, but I’ll get to the way they do it), unschooling (gods, I wish that was a typo), some bizarre other things, and generally leaving your child as emotionally fit as three year old. Classy. Let me go point by point here.


This isn’t necessarily mind blowing—I understand sharing a bed with a newborn to keep it calm and warm and suchlike (and by understand I mean, see the logic in it). However, since this is Ebolaville, you must realize that I wouldn’t be making this post if there was any logic in what these people do. These types do this co-sleeping business well past the newborn years. Some of them keep the children in the bed with them up until they are seven or eight years old. I understand a child having a nightmare and wanting the comfort of sleeping with Mommy every now and again. Hell, I had the nightmare where the devil was climbing up a ladder into my brain more times that I can recall growing up, which sent me straight for Mom and Dad’s room, but I had my own bed and preferred sleeping in it. Maybe I am just missing something, but I see no way that co-sleeping with Mommy every night is healthy for a child. What I can see is how this will emotionally stunt the child’s growth by not setting what I would call ‘growth boundaries,’ not to mention the negative effect this would have on the parents (and here I am assuming that both are still in the picture). Then again, those who subscribe to this philosophy usually don’t care much about their husbands aside from their precious “baby batter” (their term, not mine… it burns the brain) and wallets.


By no means do I want to get into the age old breast milk versus formula war here (personally, I like to view my tits as funbags rather than milkbars, but that is neither here nor there), but these types think that formula feeding a baby is a crime against nature itself. Lordy, I saw an icon from one of these attachment parents that had a picture of Mary holding the Baby J with W(hat) W(ould) J(esus) D(rink) down the side. The religious nutjobs strike again. Ready for the kicker on this one? They breastfeed their kids until they are five or six years old. I read one account a forum of theirs where the mother was birthing a new child while her seven year old was sucking her tit for milk. Christ on a crutch people… the health effects of breast milk only last so long. Here is a good little tip: if the kid can ask for the breast, maybe it is time to look into solid foods. Or maybe it is something else… maybe these psychos actually get off on this. Another forum-ite was talking about how her four year old flicked her nipple with his tongue while feeding and about how erotic it felt. Jeebus McSweeny, it’s your damn toddler woman! Get your damn husband to suck your tits if that’s what you really want or is he too busy diddling the secretary because of this psycho-attraction to your child? Much like the co-sleeping, I see zero benefits to long term breast feeding. Again, what I do see are serious long term sexual and emotional issues developing.


I will say it again—I wish to gods that was a typo, sadly though… it isn’t. This is a new bright idea come up with by these “geniuses” who cannot stand having their child off their tit for more than a microsecond. Unschooling is a completely informal system of “education” where the “parents” teach the kids what the kids decide they want to learn. Still with me, or has your head exploded yet? This is not homeschooling. There are no state mandated syllabi or target goals. There is no degree to be had from unschooling for twelve years. The parents who do this keep little Jaiydien (or whatever the trendy name with too many vowels is at the time) at home and let them read what they want (if they want to read) and learn about what interests them. This would be a great growing experience for a child, if properly directed (and supplemented with real education). Sadly though, most of these kids are unable to see past Momma’s floppy milkbag and have zero interest in anything (they are also largely the spastic, wailing crotch monkeys that careen into your shopping cart in the grocery store due to lack of discipline). Speaking of lack of discipline… I think that this is a side effect of this unschooling nonsense. These kids have no boundaries and are allowed to freely “express themselves” without ever being reprimanded or taught proper social boundaries and respect.

Let me go further into this with two personal experiences. This first one happened in Target about a year ago. I strolled through the store, collected the necessary cleaning supplies, underwear, new DVDs, and whatnot then made my way up to the checkout. It should be said that I had a pretty badly fucked up ankle then, and it was bandaged up so I could hobble around. Well, my poor ankle and I were standing in the checkout line when a cart slams me in the back and ankles. I assume it to be an accident until it happens again. I growl and turn only to look into the vacant stare of a mother with child in tow, said child being the one who found it amusing to ram me with the cart. I asked her, rather politely considering the pain I was in, if she would rein in her yard-ape (no, I did not word it that rudely). She looked at me like I had grown a second head, kicked a puppy, and threatened to string up her hyperactive brat by the toes.

“How dare you tell me how to parent my child! He is just being a kid!”

“That may be the case, ma’am, but he just rammed me in the back and ankles with your cart. Twice.”

“You’re just being mean! You don’t understand!”

At this point, I gave up intelligent reasoning with this vacuous ninny and turned back to face the register. I glance off to the side and notice that Sproggy McCartpusher has toddled away from his oh-so intelligent mother figure and is sucking on a pack of Rolo candies like a damn pacifier. Mommy eventually finds him and drags him back to the cart. Does she reprimand the little shitbag for sucking on the candy and purchase said candy? Oh no… she giggles at how cute her precious little angel is, takes the candy from him, and puts it back on the rack (baby drool and all). Marvelous job raising the next generation there.

The second tale of woe comes from a visit to the grocery store. It was late, and I had been on campus all day (probably a Monday last semester, when I got to campus at 730am and left at 9pm). I was exhausted and stumbling through the grocery store to find some grub. While debating over the merits of cooking bbq chicken or chili for dinner, someone grabs my ass. “What the blue bloody fuck is this?” I think while turning preparing to slap the bastard, only… there is no bastard within direct eye sight to slap. I glance down into the drool and crumb encrusted face of a small child who just grins, giggles, and runs back to his mother further down the aisle who has witnessed this whole spectacle and is, I shit you not, laughing. This child was easily older than age seven, an age where I feel that personal boundaries should be well established. I walked over to the lady and asked her if she was happy raising a future sex offender. She turned bright red and was likely preparing to spout off some more of the ‘just a child’ rhetoric at me until I cut her off: “Your child grabbed my ass and is lucky I didn’t slap him into next week. I suggest you teach him some boundaries before he runs into someone with less self control than myself.” She spluttered and stammered for a bit, so I just wheeled my cart around muttering something obscene no doubt and headed for the checkout with my meager cart of groceries. For those wondering, I went to Taco Bell for dinner that night

Bizarre Other Behaviour

As though the co-sleeping, breast feeding, and unschooling weren’t bad enough, a large portion of these attachment types are anti-immunization. Aha! Their first good idea, at least from my point of view—after all, it will weed out the sickly and stupid from the herd (a girl can dream, can’t she?). These types think that the government puts mind control agents into the vaccines required for most children. Now, not only does this jeopardize their kids health, it also sets them up for a really dim future. Think about it… combine this unschooling nonsense with no degree with a lack of immunizations and there isn’t a higher learning center in the country who will take them in. I recall not so long ago (six years) when I was heading off to college for the first time, the school I was set to head to mailed back a list of about three vaccinations I needed to update before I was allowed in. God only knows what will happen to the poor creatures raised by these hovering momzillas.

This kind of shit honestly makes me want to weep for the next generation while at the same time taking a rusty spork of sterilization to these idiots. Congratulations, you are raising a generation of children who will never be able to function on their own. I certainly hope you enjoy supporting your thirty year old while s/he lives in your basement simply because you couldn’t cut the umbilical cord.

Damn I need a drink.


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