Guest Post: Talking to My Five-Year-Old Daughter about Consent

As a companion piece to my previous post, about talking to my son about rape, Snehal Naik has graciously shared her thoughts on teaching her daughter about consent and how to say no to unwanted touch.

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You can't talk to a five year old girl about the ugly things that happen to women and girls. But you can talk to her about consent. She doesn't need to know the word but the concept - believe me even a 5 year old can, and does, get it. I know because when my daughter turned five we started doing something very simple. We ask her permission before making contact with her body.

"Can mommy/ daddy give you a hug?" precedes all hugs. Sometimes she says no and we move on. When others want to hug her, I ask if she wants to, or offer up giving a high five as an alternative. Sometimes she says no to both options. And we move on. Yes it's hard when it's close relatives or friends, and I've endured my share of strange and hurt looks. But I thank those who have demonstrated being hurt by her refusal. Because together we are teaching her an invaluable lesson. That she has the right to withhold consent even if it incites hurt, or anger or emotional pleading.  That we do not reprimand or cajole her into saying yes when she means no. 

Because consent begins now. Not when she's old enough to understand the ugly words in an ugly world. 

Now. As soon as she knows where her body ends and someone else's begins. As soon as she knows that a touch can make you feel uncomfortable if you don't want it.

Now. Because I want it to become second nature, a law of her universe, equivalent to " we don't hit" or "we don't tell lies". Add in there "we ask before we touch and wait for a yes". 

So she'll instinctively know it's wrong when someone doesn't ask. Or asks and doesn't respect a negative answer. Because I don't ever want her to hesitate even for one split second about whether she should say yes when she wants to say no. Because I don't ever want her to wonder if it was wrong on the other person's part to not respect her answer. 

Irrespective of who's asking, how much power they wield over her, how much she doesn't want to upset them, or how much she thinks they love her. I want her to practice saying it to me and her dad- the ultimate power-wielders and love-givers in her life right now. I want her to do it starting right now. So her voice gets louder and louder with practice. 

I would do anything in the world to protect my five year old girl from the ugly things that happen to women and girls. Starting right now- with talking to her about consent.

Should We "Dread" Our Children's Growing Up?

The other day, I wrote a post delving into my feelings about having only boys. It was very popular and got a very positive response, but talking about it with some friends got me thinking a bit more.

In that previous post, I wrote that I sometimes joke about my relief that I won't have to experience the girl tween years, or puberty, or uniquely feminine drama. A few days later, I met up with a friend who has a toddler daughter, and we talked about how she is dreading those years. We laughed about how with boys, they get angry, they punch each other, and it's done with, whereas girls let things simmer and hold grudges. The day after having this conversation, I met a woman who said her grandmother had four boys but really wanted a daughter, tried one more time, and the fifth was a girl. I have encounters like that a lot. Somehow, when I had just two boys, it wasn't cause for comment, since having two kids is pretty average, and you just got lucky to have two of the same gender. If you have three, you start getting the question, "Were you trying for a girl?" as if somehow your family isn't complete unless you have at least one of each. But once you hit four, people are certain that you've "kept going" because you're "trying for the girl" and that you will keep going because you desire that daughter so strongly. Is it the same for parents with four girls? Do they get strangers asking if they're "trying for the boy?" I don't know. I imagine so. (Any parents of three-plus girls want to weigh in?) I usually just say that my husband and I wanted four kids, and this was just the luck of the draw in terms of sex. We weren't "trying" for anything, except "trying" to have four kids.

I keep going back in my mind to the idea of "dreading" a certain stage, though. I looked up the word "dread." It means: "anticipate with great apprehension or fear." And I don't like that wording. We should "dread" getting a diagnosis of a terrible disease (G-d forbid!). We should "dread" a terrible earthquake (or another winter like those of you on the East Coast of the US are having) - G-d forbid! We "dread" inevitable sadnesses or tragedies, like the death of close loved ones.

But "dreading" our children growing up and entering new phases? That doesn't seem right. Our children growing and maturing and attaining new facets of their personalities, new skills, new expectations, a new outlook on life - these are not things to be afraid of. These are causes for joy! This means we're doing something right! Our children are alive, thriving, opening up to new experiences and ideas.

Sure, there are phases that are more stressful than others. I imagine nine-year-old girls give their parents plenty of stressful moments. There are questions we're concerned we won't be able to answer, problems we hope they won't have to face (but probably will), traumas and difficult times we don't want them to have to go through (but they probably will). And we can anticipate how we'll address their worries when they come up, how we'll respond to their misbehavior, how we'll guide and direct them as they grow. But to "dread" the inevitable growing-up of our beloved children? I'm not sure that's the right word to use.

Some parents "dread" the day their child asks where babies come from, or they "dread" the day their elementary schooler asks about the events of 9/11/01, or Columbine, or Sandy Hook. Some parents "dread" having to explain why people have skin of a different color, or why someone at school made fun of them for their weight or religion or hair cut or interests, or why Chris has two Mommies, or where Grandma is, or what happened to the dog. And we do worry about these things, but is it intense fear? Is it great apprehension? I hope not!

What I'm finding as my kids get older and start asking questions like those is that, even if I "dreaded" getting the question or having the topic come up, once it did, it wasn't as bad as I expected. I know my kids pretty well, and I have a pretty good idea of what will upset them and what won't, what will interest them and what won't, what they'll understand and what they won't. I enjoy explaining things to them. I enjoy anticipating the next question they'll ask or the next idea they'll present. And so when something does come up, I find I do have the tools to handle it.

So if I had a girl, would I "dread" her getting her period, or having to explain about safe sex, or issues about her appearance, or things like that? No. Sure, I'd worry about them. I'd play out scripts and scenarios in my head in anticipation. Her behavior probably would stress me out, and I'd jokingly complain about having a girl and having these problems with her. But I also think I would be grateful to have a daughter. Just as I'm grateful now for having my sons.

And there are more serious things that might happen to our children, or that our children might do, as they grow up. And I think it's fair to dread some of those things. But the normal course of maturing is not something to dread. Having a tween girl or boy in itself is not a cause for terror. Knowing your sweet toddler daughter will one day be a hormonal mess isn't cause for "great apprehension or fear." I think, quite the opposite, that we should dread our children not becoming hormonal pimple machines! We would dread the idea of our children not experiencing the fullness of life, taking risks, and simply growing up. There are plenty of parents out there dreading the day they don't have their daughters giving them sass or their sons watching porn in their rooms.

Now, I realize that when we talk this way, we're exaggerating, using sarcasm as a defense mechanism. I know that saying we dread various stages isn't a literal paralyzing fear. It doesn't mean we aren't grateful for our children or that we don't love them. It doesn't mean we regret having them. But I think it's important to have perspective, too. Often the things we're most concerned about, once they come up, aren't as horrible as we anticipated. And knowing that we can anticipate those moments can help us manage those fears in advance, so we don't have to dread them.

So, yes, I joke that I'm glad not to have to deal with "girl" stuff, and I know I won't have the stress of my daughter coming home and asking for birth control, or having a fight with her best friend, or being made fun of because she doesn't have an American Girl doll, but I also won't have the joy that a daughter brings.

Maybe it's time to focus on the positive.

What are your favorite things about having a son? What are your favorite things about having a daughter? Did you have a preference before your baby was born? What are you most looking forward to sharing with your kids as they grow up?

I am a Mother to Sons

I've been debating whether to write this down at all, or to write it down but not publish it, or to write it down and then delete it, or just to think about it and then squash down the thoughts. I'm still not sure if it should be out there, but I try to be honest on my blog and with my life, so here it is.

I become very jealous of people when I hear they have a baby girl.

There, I said it.

I love my four boys. I can't imagine life with a daughter. I can't imagine my life being any different than it is. I have four sons, and I don't regret having them, I don't regret having four, I don't regret any of it. I love my sons. I love saying I have four sons. I love saying "my four sons." I like to think I'm raising four boys who will become four wonderful men and marry four wonderful women and provide me with scads of grandchildren, boys and girls. I like to think I'm contributing positively to the next generation of men, a generation of men who are respectful of women, honest about their emotions, not afraid to express love, abhorrent of injustice and violence. I hope that I am raising four intelligent, ambitious, successful human beings who will make the world, or their little corner of it, a better place by the fact of their being in it. (Is that a bit arrogant? Maybe. But isn't that what parents really hope for in their kids? That they are raising people they will be proud of?)

But when I see a friend post a picture of their new baby girl, or a picture of their little girl in a cute dress, or talk about their little girl doing something girly like having a tea party with her dolls or wanting to paint her nails or do her hair...

I admit to being jealous, and a little sad.

I always assumed I'd have a girl. I thought if I had four kids, they'd be two girls and two boys. I thought I'd have a girl first. You want to have a girl first, you see, because then she'll help with her baby siblings. She'll be a little mama.

What I have are four boys. And my oldest boy? He helps so much with his younger brothers. And my boys like getting new clothes, and my second boy once asked to paint his nails, and there was that time four of us sat and had a tea party together (granted, we made gross pretend soup, but still, it was kind of a tea party).

But there was this one time, when I was pregnant with #4 and hadn't found out the gender yet, that I saw a cute little yellow dress at Kohl's in the toddler girls section, and I picked it up and admired it and then put it in my cart and started toward the register, and then laughed and put it back on the rack when I realized what I was doing. But I really was going to buy it, because I was sure I was going to have a daughter.

I was supposed to have a daughter.

I always imagined how I would raise a girl. How I would teach her about life and womanhood, and how I would be clueless about makeup and fashion, and how she would see that you can grow up to be a strong, happy, fulfilled woman even without those things, and how there are lots of ways to feel fulfilled in life. I thought I would be there for her when she was pregnant, and pass along all my knowledge about pregnancy and birth and breastfeeding. Not that I can't do those things for a future daughter-in-law, but it's not the same, in my mind.

I joke about how I'm so relieved not to have a girl, that I don't have to deal with the tween girl hormones or synced up cycles. I laugh and say I'm so glad I don't have to experience the drama of the 4-year-old girl or the terror of the teen years.

I joke, and I smile, and I laugh, but...

I love my sons so much, and I hope that I'm able to teach them all the things that will make them exemplary husbands and fathers, even though I'm not sure I really know how. And I love my sons so much, and one day they'll bring home a woman to the Passover seder or a Shabbat dinner or to Thanksgiving and say, "Mom, I want you to meet my fiancee," and then I can look forward to having a daughter-in-law and granddaughters to bond with.

And I love my sons so much, and four kids is plenty, and I don't think I can do it again, the pregnancy and the birth and the baby years and the toddler years and the diapers and the sleepless nights, even if it meant I would have a daughter. Even then.

So I mourn the daughter I will never have.

And I'm sad for myself when my friends have baby girls.

And I gather my four beautiful sons into my arms and I love them so much and I can't imagine my life any other way.

G-d gave me boys.

I am a mother to sons.

Girl or Boy? Why Does Everyone Else Care More Than I Do?

Tomorrow, May 30, is the "big ultrasound," where we'll (hopefully) finally find out whether I'm carrying our first girl or our fourth boy. While some families choose to wait for the birth and let the baby's gender be a surprise, we've always liked to know at the major anatomical ultrasound (which is usually done between 18 and 20 weeks). I've been known to say that if peeing on the stick could not only confirm the pregnancy but tell me the gender, I'd be happy! My husband always says that it's a surprise whether you find out at the ultrasound or at the birth, and we both like having that time to talk about names and get mentally prepared for the actual baby who is coming. I find it makes the pregnancy more real to me and helps me begin to bond with the baby growing within me.

(G's ultrasound pictures)

So far, we're three for three, reliably producing adorable little boys. At each new pregnancy, friends, family, and strangers express genuine curiosity as to whether we're "hoping" for a girl, "trying" for a girl, or if we'll "keep trying" for a girl if this next one is another boy. Indeed, it seems like everyone around us is more excited and more curious than we are about the gender of this fourth baby! It's not that I don't want to know, and it's not that I'm not excited about the baby, and it's not that I will be disappointed either way. It's just that I don't understand why everyone else seems to have invested so much emotional energy in my pregnancy! It's nice that people care so much, don't get me wrong, but is it fair to the baby I'm actually carrying to hope so strongly for one gender? What if it's not what you're hoping for?

I think it's fair to suffer a fleeting moment of disappointment or grief if you never get the son or daughter you've always dreamed of having. I know people who wanted only sons, people who wanted only daughters, or people who yearned for one of each. Usually, once you're holding your sweet little one in your arms, you're thrilled with whatever you've got, but that doesn't mean you might not wonder what it would have been like if the X had been a Y, or vice versa. It is not fair to the child you have, however, to wish he was a she, or she was a he. We have to take people as they are, and that includes our children! Sure, I had "planned" to have a girl first, but when N came along, I couldn't imagine life any other way.

My husband and I are fairly certain we're having another boy. I've been consistently using "he" when talking about this baby, when before I've been hesitant to use a gender pronoun until we knew for sure. According to this site, if you have three boys, you have a slightly increased (more than 50%) chance that the fourth will also be a boy. You hear people toss out stats like, "Oh, the chances of another boy are 70% if you already have three," but this is apparently not supported in the data. Still, it does seem to me like some couples may be more predisposed to one gender than the other. Who knows? Obviously, there are plenty of families with three of one and one of the other, but then you get the stories about families with six boys and one girl, or seven girls and one boy, and so on, and it makes you wonder.

Ever since I found out my first was a boy, I've assumed that at some point in the future, I'd have a daughter. It just seems...normal. But after I found out G was a boy, I became fairly content with the whole situation. I realized I was kind of relieved. I already know how to "do" a boy. I understand them. I have the clothes and the toys. And, let's be honest, here, I'm not exactly "girly." I don't wear makeup. I don't get my nails done. I don't do my hair. I'm not a tomboy, but I'm not well versed in a lot of "feminine" activities, either. I'm terrified that if I did have a girl, she'd be "girlier" than me! I'm terrified of female puberty, of girl drama, and of body image issues. And, to be crude, as many have said only half-jokingly, when you have a boy, you have only one penis to worry about. (Okay, so I have three, and possibly four, but you get the point.)

So, I'm pretty much at peace this time. If it's another boy, which I'm willing to assume it is at this point, then I'm happy. If it's a girl, I'll be shocked but happy. I don't see us continuing to "try" for a girl. I can't predict how I'll feel about it in five years, but right now, I don't feel like I need "one of each" for a complete family. Our family will be complete because we'll have the kids we're supposed to have.

Until I'm ready to reveal the results of the ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow, go ahead and make your predictions. I'm curious as to what my readers think! If you want any data from me besides knowing that we already have three boys, assuming it's not invasive information, go ahead and ask. Have fun guessing, and we'll see what happens!

For some thoughts on the flip side of the equation, a while back Jessica at The Leaky B@@b shared her thoughts on having 5 girls when she was pregnant with her sixth, and how it feels to be asked if she wants a boy - and how it feels for her daughters!

Now, granted, N and S have both expressed their desire for a sister, although I'm not exactly sure if they're able to verbalize why they want a sister. Still, it's super cute, and I know that my boys will be awesome big brothers whether this little one is a boy or a girl.

A House Full of Boys

This is my 100th published post! Taking suggestions on how to celebrate!

Also, I'm very excited to announce that my book, The "Yes, It's Normal!" Guide to Breastfeeding is now available for purchase in paperback through Amazon for $9.99.

And now, onto the post!

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Often, when I first meet someone and introduce my three boys, the question immediately following, "How old are they?" is, "Are you going to have another?" or "Are you going to try for a girl?" I wonder why this is. Are my baby-making plans up for public discussion? Why such intense interest in what should be an intimate process between my husband and me? I mean, sure, if I were already pregnant with another, asking if I'm hoping for a girl would be understandable, but to ask if we're "planning" to have another, or "trying" to have another? One person even went so far as to offer advice on how to increase our chances of conceiving a girl!

I don't know if the fact that we have three in relatively quick succession (26 months and 32 months apart) makes people assume that we're not planning to stop at three, or if the fact that they're all boys make people assume that we had a third because we were trying for a girl, or if the fact that we're still relatively young (and I apparently look younger than I am) makes people assume that we'll just keep on letting them come until they stop on their own. We have used birth control in the past, our kids were planned (yes, all three), and we didn't keep going because we were "hoping" for a girl.

Full disclosure, until the 20-week ultrasound with each of the three pregnancies, I was sure I was having a girl, and I admit to slight disappointment at first upon finding out they were boys. Well, with GI, it wasn't so much disappointment as genuine surprise and a bit of relief. At least, by then, I knew what to do with a boy and had all the requisite clothing and gear. I do want a daughter. I've always fantasized about raising a girl. On the other hand, now that I have boys, the idea of having a girl terrifies me, because it seems like girls are way harder to raise.

Though it isn't really anyone's business, my husband and I have always talked about having four kids. Now that we have three, a fourth seems inevitable. But as for when, well, isn't that kind of a personal question? Do you need to know whether I'm using birth control or what kind? Do you need to know how often we're "doing the BD," as they say in trying-to-conceive parlance? Do you need to know if we've yet had success? I don't really think so. I promise, when and if I get pregnant, you will know about it as soon as it's appropriate to say so. Or until I can't hide it.

As for "are you going to try for a girl?", that isn't exactly fair to my boys, is it? There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not grateful to have my boys. I've never once wished that any of them was a girl. I've never tried to imagine how life would be different if we had a girl or two or three. In fact, in some ways, I feel like the fact that we've been blessed with boys is a sort of tap on the shoulder from G-d. "You are meant to mother boys," He tells me. "You will raise your sons to be men who respect women, love Judaism, and be sensitive and gentle fathers." They have their father as an excellent example of what a man should be and how a man should act. They have both of us to teach them to love Judaism and want a Jewish home when they grow up. If we end up as a house with four sons, then at least by now I know what to do with a boy. And if I've proven myself a worthy mother of boys and G-d chooses to bless us with a daughter, I will be even more grateful for her, and she will be lucky to have three older brothers to protect her. What could be better than that? And what mother could be luckier than I, that one day I could potentially have four excellent daughters-in-law, to love and cherish and to bring her beautiful grandchildren?

When confronted, then, with the questions, "Are you going to have more?" and, "Are you trying for a girl?", I really don't know what to say, except, "We'll see what happens," and "It's not up to me." Because it isn't. Not really.

On Little Girls in "Sexy" Clothes

I have three boys. This means I'm not exactly savvy when it comes to the latest little girl fashions. Frankly, I'm not well versed in the little boy fashions, either, except boy clothes are typically a shirt and pants, with little variation beyond the plaid versus stripes versus graphic debate. School uniforms are easy, too: polo shirt and khaki pants. Done and done. I like boy clothes.

Girl clothes, I gather, are a whole different world. First of all, in the kids' clothing section of your average department store, at least two-thirds of the clothes are girls'. After all, when it comes to boys, it's pretty much pants or shorts and a shirt. Girls have pants and shorts and many different kinds of shirts and then dresses and skirts and dresses and dresses and dresses and, oh, did I mention dresses? Dresses scare me. I don't even like to wear dresses, except on special occasions. I was never very girly. I see my friends' daughters wearing dresses and glittery stuff and princessy stuff, and it's just way outside my vocabulary.

But even so, I know that I get disturbed when I see little girls wearing "mature" clothes. By this, I mean toddler and elementary aged girls wearing small bikinis, short shorts, strappy shirts, off-the-shoulder shirts, pants and shorts with words on the butt, skinny jeans and leggings without a suitably long shirt over them, and so on. These styles are meant to be sexy on an adult woman, and there's something vaguely uncomfortable to me about seeing a little girl in "sexy" clothes. I've heard many arguments for and against little girls wearing such clothing, from "But it's cute!" to "What about the pedophiles?" but none of those arguments fully explained why I personally am made uncomfortable by it.

It was walking home from delivering my son to kindergarten one morning that I finally understood exactly what bugs me.

In Judaism, we have a concept called "tzniut," which roughly translates to "modesty." Tznuit is a very basic fact of religious Jewish life and refers to how both men and women should dress as well as the subjects that are discussed in public. When a woman wants to dress according to tzniut, she wears a long skirt and long-sleeved, high-necked shirt. A man should dress in a way in which he positively presents himself, in clean clothing that is well maintained, appropriate to his situation. From childhood, girls and boys are taught to dress in a tzniut way, to present themselves modestly, and to stay away from non-tzniut discussion such as what might go on in the bedroom. When children grow up always wearing modest clothing, it comes naturally to continue to dress that way.

On the flip side, then, if a girl grows up having been dressed in "sexy" clothing as a young girl, it will continue to come naturally to her to dress that way as she grows. If she's always worn short skirts and bikinis and tiny tank tops, she will not be uncomfortable dressing this way, and she might not realize that she may be inviting unwanted attention, or that others may be objectifying her. She doesn't necessarily dress this way, at eight years old, to attract men or attention; she dresses this way because she always has, and she has been raised to think it's "cute."

I realize, of course, that at some point a girl is going to grow up and want to dress like her friends, in what's stylish, regardless of her upbringing. I have no advice or perspective on this, since I do not have a teenage daughter, nor was I your typical teenage girl. However, there's something distinctly different, to me, about a 15-year-old girl wearing short shorts and a nine-year-old girl wearing the same. A 15-year-old is likely considerably more aware of her sexuality and will deliberately dress in a way which she believes enhances her desirable traits to teenage boys she wishes to attract. A nine-year-old should not be thinking or behaving in such a way. (Not that I'm condoning a 15-year-old acting this way, but at least, to my mind, it makes a certain amount of sense - teenagers are supposed to act that way.)

In the same vein, how we dress reflects how we want others to see us. When young girls are already objectifying themselves as sexual objects, how can we expect young boys not to see them that way? If we teach our daughters to dress in a way that is respectful of their own bodies, they can learn that the types of boys they might attract by dressing inappropriately are not the types of boys they should want to attract, anyway.

My husband and I were wandering around Kohl's the other day, and he pointed out a rather short skirt in the young girls' clothing section and said, "I would never let my daughter wear this." I agreed instantly, assuming we have a daughter one day to avoid dressing that way, and mentioned that I was working on this very blog post. I don't have a problem with little girls wanting to look pretty. But there is a difference between "pretty" and "sexy," and little girls need to learn that boundary. It is our duty as parents to help them find that line, and it can start with how we dress them as toddlers and preschoolers.

On a related note, I try to teach my boys to show respect to themselves and others in the way they dress, as well. We don't leave the house if they're not dressed, and I don't like them to wear dirty, stained, or ripped clothing (well, at any rate, we don't start out in stained or dirty clothes - they are boys, after all!). It bothers me if they look not-put-together, for example, if their shirt or pants are put on backward. Dressing in clean, well-maintained clothing shows that you respect yourself and others who will be seeing you. So while my boys have no desire to wear skinny jeans or short skirts, we do still have standards that we try to have them stick to.