That baby smell and other creepy children's things

Have you ever noticed that the baby child industry seems to have a knack for producing some pretty creepy stuff. I'm not talking about intentionally creepy stuff like doll heads as candleholders, but products aimed at kids (and their parents) that are supposed to be wholesome, useful and make everything better. Well, I guess they aren't all supposed to be wholesome, like if we needed any further signs that the apocalypse may just be upon us, there is now a pole dancer doll. Maybe this is where you go after high heels for infants?

Two things got me going here. The first thing is the scented additive that gives certain brands of diaper their distinctive odour. Although I am sure that each brand of diaper has their own unique chemically engineered smell, they all stink the same way. Apparently, the smell is to mask the "contribution" to each diaper provided by your little one. Suddenly the smell of stool ain't so bad when mixed with a dash of potpourri? I think I would be a little less suspicious of these ever pervasive scents, were it not for the fact that baby beads, baby dolls, and baby t-shirt stickers (among others) are all available in scented format. Could scented markers and scratch and sniff really be any good for you? Surely no worse than sniffing glue.

I do my best to avoid conspiracy theories, but it can't be called a conspiracy when something is chemically engineered to seduce... ahem, "inspire the senses" in children. And I haven't even mentioned the fact that the good folks at Johnson's (formerly Johnson and Johnson, did they merge with another Johnson?) now offer baby cologne. If you don't see anything wrong with this, feel free to click here for another opinion on why this may not be such a good idea.

But this brings me to the second thing: advertising. I was reminded of the world of children's advertising by this gallery of creepy ads from the 50's. Like bean boy here.

But the humour in theses ads belies the rather more serious issue of advertising targeted at children. You see, if you visit the Nation's capital (Ottawa) we can hang out, but you will have to cross the river into Quebec to where I live. Among the many great things about living in Quebec is the fact that advertising to children under 13 years of age is prohibited under the province's Consumer Protection Act. I think most of us would agree this is a good thing but unfortunately this isn't the case elsewhere in Canada. Do we really prefer to live in a world with marketing and advertising aimed at kids? Kidding aside, this actually is creepy. I accept the fact that -- over time -- I will have to allow my son to make decisions for himself, and that it is my role as a parent to enable this. Still, it's one thing to market towards adults, we have the capacity to make informed decisions and think critically about how information is sold (or even choose not to). But shouldn't kids be free from persuasive commercial arguments and images for a least a little while? There will be plenty of time for them to appreciate the joys of our consumer culture, but it can wait.

Or maybe you don't care to coddle your children well past adolescence. Maybe cradling isn't your thing at all. If this is you, don't worry there is always the Zaky infant pillow to stand in, "its like leaving part of you with your baby". Nothing creepy about that.

Should I get a new dad jacket?

So, I am thinking about changing the name of this blog to Dad Jacket. You see, I think there should be something in a name. Not that Six Square is totally without meaning. In my mind, I like the idea of having four children. Four - a square number. With two parents, that makes six. And whether or not we get there is really anyone's guess, but maybe it will serve as a small reminder of what -- at one point in my life -- sounded like a nice idea. That, and the fact that the number six squared equals 36, the age at which I will have a much better idea than I do now of whether our family will reach this size.

That said, I can't help but like the jacket metaphor, somewhat akin to being a man of many hats, except that one only has a few jackets. Just like you have your favourite jacket that -- depending on whether or not you are into fashion -- says alot about you, is perfect for any occasion etc. You know, in the spirit of children adding to your identity. Plus, the Blogfather was already taken.

Or if the fashion metaphor disagrees with you please feel free to think of it as a book jacket. Which, at first blush it may be slightly more apt if you think of the role of the modern parent as being one of holding the chapters of a child's life together. But perhaps most of all. I think Dad Jacket is catchy.

Oh... and the word jacket will probably make me chuckle for the rest of my life, or more precisely, when it's pronounced yacket. You know, like they say in Sweden. Well maybe you don't and I mean no disrespect. But its really only funny because most Swedes speak English better than many North Americans. But every now and again while living in Sweden I would here someone drop a "y" in place of a "j". Like I am so yealous of your yogging yacket.

All of which is to say, I need your help. New dad jacket? I can't decide. So please let me know, with comments, or emails or on the facebook. Whichever you prefer. I hope you enyoy thinking about it.

Alpine Style Parenting

The Alpine Style falls somewhere between the extremes of the post-modern "go-anywhere parenting" and the more traditional, "all children should be kept on strict schedules" approach. In addition to sounding hip (who doesn't want to say they are down with Alpine Style parenting?), the Alpine Style is on the verge of becoming the hottest trend in contemporary fatherhood.

Truth be told, the Alpine style refers to a specific approach I take to heading out with my son on tour in town and in the hills, rather than a philosophical approach to parenting. I borrow the term Alpine Style from the world of mountaineering (thanks to Uncle Matty for the heads up), where climbers undertake their pursuit while carrying all of their gear, and therefore only the absolute essentials, to summit. This somewhat minimalist approach is in contrast to the Expedition Style which -- according to our good friends at Wikipedia -- involves stocked camps along the route, fixed ropes and the use of supplemental oxygen; in other words, gear... lots of it.

The shear breadth and diversity of stuff available to assist with the task of parenting is, quite simply, astonishing. And for some reason, contemporary parenting (myself included) somehow requires that we have all of it on hand, everywhere we go, at all times. Your double-wide bike trailer style stroller serves as an urban basecamp, with one child inside, and plenty of room for everything you couldn't possibly imagine being without. Like, maybe you're the type of person who prefers to shop by lifestyle, and you need all the equipment that justifiably suits your lifestyle. If so you will need to decide whether you are either (a) an organic and earth friendly, (b) a classic, (c) an experienced, (d) a city, (e) a trendy, or (f) a working mom. I'm not kidding you. These are the actual lifestyle categories you have to choose from at a certain babies r us store; that is, if you happen to be a mom.

Unfortunately, no lifestyle shopping choices are available to us dads (sigh). Where I am supposed to go for all those things I never knew I needed that also happen to align with the stylized version of myself? I guess we are on our own. Say what you will about commercialism and such, but as far as I can tell the dad market is pretty much wide open. Sure we have the bike trailers and the child carriers for getting us outside, but that's about it.

So into this void steps Alpine Style parenting. To be fair, the amount of baby gear you carry with you will correspond to the length of your outing, but not all trips need be expeditions. The basic premise of alpine style mountaineering is that exposure = risk. Similarly for alpine style parenting, the more time spent on the boring and mundane -- packing and unpacking, set up and take down -- the less fun it is for everyone. The more light and nimble you are, the better equipped you are to take advantage of opportunities to get while the getting's good, and as is sometimes necessary, beat a hasty retreat. No diaper bags, no strollers, no battery powered bottle warmers. Really, the contemporary father needs little more than a decent pair of cargo shorts to carry all of his child's needs and maybe even less if he equips himself with knowledge of his child's bowel movements. So the next time you consider whether to head out equipped as a classic, experienced or trendy father, just rock it Alpine Style.

Never gonna give your teen spirit up

Last Tuesday night I drove to Montreal (and back to Ottawa the same night) to celebrate a friend's birthday. I figured four hours driving + four hours hanging out with an old friend sipping Beck's sans alcool is pretty much an honest day's work, unless you're in France. And since I was in New France I guess you could say I even managed an hour of overtime. This is the kind of friend I like to think I am.

I have always been somewhat suspicious of what Dave Eddie refers to as the "indelible social stigma of the stay-at-home dad". Pop culture supports this notion (Mr. Mom anyone?) but still, I am yet to find much evidence of this. I think this idea brought me to thinking about a social experiment of sorts. I thought I would tell my fellow birthday partiers that I was a stay at home Dad (SAHD) but not let on that I was merely on parental leave from my job. I figured it might be interesting to gauge reaction to the SAHD from a group of fellow Millenials whom I was meeting for the first time and were all part of the childfree set. But I decided that keeping harmless information from good people in a social setting in the name of some pseudo test case was silly. And I don't think it really would of mattered much. What I found was earnest curiosity and genuine interest in my situation, and a distinct lack of anything resembling derisive indifference. Conversation was mostly about how society treats a stay at home dad, navigating the world of modern parenthood, etc. but most interesting was how seamlessly the subject of parenthood fit within, and across a variety of subjects with a group of people who - let's be honest - would decidedly not be talking about kids if pops from Ottawa wasn't in the room. Luckily for me though, I find most people are pretty happy to talk about the parallel universe that is parenthood.

Because I am relatively new to the dad thing, I try to be conscious of not only talking about child-related subjects. I like to think I have lots to say about many things, but in fairness, fatherhood is really the only thing that ever inspired me to start a blog. As you may or may not be aware, Corrine Maier's No Kids: 40 good reasons not to have children was published in English this week to a somewhat predictable response, generating plenty of discussion much like it did in France where it was first released in 2007 (CBC Radio's Q had an interesting discussion on this August 5). Among the 40 reasons: "you will lose your identity and become just mom or dad". Although the author admits the book is "50% provocation and 50% a serious book about legitimate questions people ask themselves", how much of your former identity you either lose, let go of, or gleefully abandon is ultimately up to you.

Because raising kids is so all-consuming, it shouldn't be all that surprising to find people struggling to maintain what you could call their childfree identity. Especially in a time where people are waiting longer and longer to have kids - I think we probably have stronger ideas about the type of person we are at 35 than we do at 25. Which might make it all that much harder to let go of. Still, I prefer to think children add to your identity. And at its heart I think Corrine Maier's book is simply arguing that we all could be a bit more frank about the challenges and frustrations of raising kids these days. Did you ever see the Oprah episode The Truth About Motherhood? No? Well neither did I. But I am told this episode made it pretty clear (and not always intentionally) that we all still have a ways to go; even if everything seems just peachy and progressive from where I sit.

Then again, at times I am reminded that I just may live in a bit of a bubble here in the Nation's capital. Living in a place where almost everyone is a civil servant, pretty much all the men in town are entitled to much of the same deserved benefits as women. For them, taking parental leave at 93% salary is pretty much a no-brainer. Within roughly the last five years more and more men have been taking leave, and as result everyone thinks its pretty cool. For instance, when any of my male colleagues learned I was taking parental leave, their responses varied from: "good times, summer vacation" to "wow, I sure wish I had that option when my kids were young". Okay, so its not exactly summer vacation but I do have the opportunity to take two naps a day, hang out in parks, take long walks etc.

But wait, wasn't this supposed to be about the struggle to maintain your identity once you become a parent? In which case, I would like to dedicate this mashup to all of you out there who are never gonna give your teen spirit up:

You'll understand when you have kids

Did anyone ever say this to you? Have you ever over heard someone else say "you'll understand when you have kids"? Although this statement seems like a classic from a bygone era, it endures. Despite its persistence, I don't know why people say it. Well, maybe I do, but still, if you're on the receiving end, what are you supposed to say?

I would argue that people who don't have kids do actually understand what its all about. Not all the painful details mind you, but well enough. Which might begin to explain why people are waiting longer these days to jump into the kiddie pool. Now, I hate to break it to you, but the word is out, having kids changes your life. So much so that a recent article in Maclean's has recently outlined a growing number of people who are deciding not to have kids. Really? This is news? Well, no, but now there is "a tiny but growing minority challenging the final frontier of reproductive freedom: the right to say no to children without being labelled social misfits or selfish for something they don’t want." Has it really come to this? Yes. Should you be surprised? Probably not.

I hope it brings as much joy to your heart as it did to mine to learn of No Kidding! which is an "international social club for childfree couples and singles". I guess keeping no schedule, dressing fashionably, following trends, staying up late (on purpose), sleeping in and going for brunch is unfortunately not as satisfying as it once was? See what happens when parents keep telling non-parents they will understand when they have kids! You send them running into the arms of international social clubs! What's a dad to do who still wants to hang with the cool kids?

Sorry about that, I think I was supposed to be arguing in favour of team parenthood (we're cool, we're hip). But wait a minute now, isn't it the childfree who are supposed to not want to hang with the childbound? But now you're telling me that those hipsters without kids are upset, and aren't gonna take it anymore, because they don't want to have kids but everyone else thinks they should. Okay now I'm confused.

Reading the above article, and especially the online comments (!), I got to thinking how odd it is that these two solitudes seem to have gotten so polarized. Nothing captures this divide quite like stroller angst. Everyone seems to have an opinion on the modern stroller, and much like other things in the world of parenting, ambivalence is no where to be found. Ask anyone and they will freely offer up the fact that strollers are either a sign of impending doom, or manna from heaven. I am all in favour of most anything that makes life easier (I will have much more to say on this in the future) but even I have to admit that some of them are ridiculously large. Still, a friend of mine was recently asked by her childfree friends "you don't bring your stroller into stores with you, do you?" Hopefully they' ll understand what a silly question that is when they have kids. But when my wife and I were living in Sweden a couple years ago, this is exactly what we saw. On a brisk December morning in Gothenburg, we walked past a lone stroller outside a coffee shop with its young resident still bundled warmly inside, sleeping, and of course, happy. The child's parents were just on the other side of the glass. But we just don't roll like that here. Which is a shame.

But here's the rub. You can't ever really understand when (or if) you have kids because every child is unique. Its the same story even when you have kids. Its probably more accurate to say "you'd understand if you had my kid", but that sounds awful. I think you can see why. But if you don't. It's okay. You will. When you have kids.

Nothing to be SAHD about

I’m not going to lie to you. Being a stay at home dad (SAHD) with my son is a pretty sweet deal. I had read and heard many stories of men receiving awkward looks from moms on the playground, and condescending looks from people in shops. Although this may still be the case in some corners of North America, in my corner of North North America (i.e. Canada) I think we’ve moved on. If however slightly.

In many ways I find society treats fathers excellently, with men easily getting 80% of the credit for 20% of the work (the 80/20 rule applied to parenting). Put the kids to sleep... what a man. Give them a bath... so caring. Get up in the morning with them... where does he get the energy? On the other hand it seems the baseline for contemporary motherhood is ever broadening to include every aspect of a family’s well-being while men are lauded for simply going for ice cream. Men – in my experience – are getting anything but the short end of the stick here. Heck, when cruising around with an 8 month old you are pretty much treated like a pregnant woman, maybe even better, because no one treats you like they know what’s best for you.

For kids, playgrounds are obviously special places. One of the many great things about kids is that they are completely unaware of the many rules of normal social behaviour, especially on the playground. Just the other day a five year old walked up and asked to hug my son. During the hug my son countered – quite happily – with an (unsuccessful) eye gouge. I think you get it. For many fathers however, I think they are somewhat disappointed to discover that – even on the playground – certain rules of social behaviour still apply.

I find the stories of self-conscious SAHD’s getting weird looks from mothers on the playground pretty interesting. I think this probably says more about men than women. I sincerely hope that I am not fostering stereotypes about men who stay at home, but I think part of the story here is the fact that many of the men who do, are probably not all that skilled in the art of chatting up women. Why do I suspect this? Partly because I am someone who would never be accused of having this skill. Even though there is nothing more disarming than a child, you still have to do some talking. Sure, the conversation is markedly different from that in a singles bar (or so I am told), but the basic rules of asking questions and paying attention to the answers still apply; even if the context is different. And it is the context of parenthood and child rearing that men don’t come by naturally. Arming yourself with “how old is your son?” and, “what’s your daughter’s name?” isn’t exactly rocket surgery but alas, many of us still need to work at it.

Even though men are increasingly taking on more and more caregiving responsibilities, which is well chronicled in a new book the Daddy Shift, we remain stuck playing catch up. Much of this is of our own doing. My son is now 8 months old, and I can’t recall having a single conversation about fatherhood, parenthood, child rearing etc. with another dad that wasn’t a) initiated and carried by mothers, or b) anything beyond a stated agreement between two men that being a dad is, in general, terrific. Which I think goes part of the way to explaining why we still live in a world with Father Involvement campaigns designed to “show dad’s the critical role they play in their children’s lives”.

Of course I offer no solutions to this dilemma. I won’t allow myself to be added to the list of those calling for men to improve their communications skills. Nor do I accept that everything is worth talking about. Take sleep for instance. I know its a bit rich coming from a guy with a blog, but I would like to make this commitment to you the reader: I will not be writing about sleep. Ever. I have nothing to add to this already well-worn ground.

I guess if men don’t really talk to each other, there will always be books. Chances are if you are reading this, I don’t need to say anything more about books on child rearing. The thing is, I can’t quite bring myself to take more than a cursory glance at it. I know I should. But I just can’t, at least not right now. Perhaps I will eat my words, but I just feel too busy playing to be bothered to read about it. And the fact that hanging out with an 8 month old actually feels pretty easy most of the time, at least when I don’t allow the feeling that I actually have no idea what I am doing to creep into my thoughts (maybe books can help with this?). It all bears mentioning that my wife has, of course, done most of the heavy lifting getting us to this point (see: the 80/ 20 rule). At the same time, I am under no illusions that raising kids (especially a group of them) is or will be easy. Its just that it seems so right now.

Don't children like other kinds of music?

Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that a category for children's music exists. A device exists for warming baby wipes afterall. This device certainly occupies one end of the derriere care spectrum. At the other end we have the kaidankgu (open crotch pants) worn by toddlers in China, which, much to my dismay, are apparently on the way out. But this is supposed to be about music.

Right, children's music.

Its amazing how many adults have a strong affinity for children`s music they listened to when they were kids. Now, we have a couple of Raffi albums that would not get played except for the simple fact that my son loves the stuff. But will he love it when he grows up? I kind of hope not.

Not that children's music is all bad. Take some of Will`s Music, a friend of mine who happens to be a children`s musician. He has a song Let`s All Dance. I get that. Dancing with the Lad is definitely one of our favourite things to do. But I can`t say as if we dance to children`s music. Whether you love them or hate them, Vampire Weekend remains an enduring favourite of his. Am I the only one who finds it odd that, aside from children`s music, classical music seems to be the only other type of music recommended for development. Which may be true (I don`t really care), but I think that may say something about the extremes of modern society. Is there nothing in between?

Ahh, but of course there is. The good folks at Putomayo have produced world music that is bound to appeal to both sophisticated parents and their gifted children. Which hasn`t yet made it on to the list of stuff white people like, but I am sure is bound to. To be fair, I certainly have more room in my heart for Putomayo Kids than I do anything in the Rockabye Baby collection, which "tranforms timelesss rock songs into beautiful instrumental lullabies". The sound is eerily reminiscent of a low-fi karaoke machine playing muted melodies in a bar on a passenger ship in the Phillipines where I once had the pleasure of passing time. Yes, its that good.

Thus far I have noticed one enduring theme of the modern parenting world, there is something for everything. Still, I have to admit the idea of making children's music that appeals to parents for more than nostalgic reasons is clever. But don't we already have music like this? Music that appeals to children and adults?

Oliver Sacks' new book Musicophilia explores the idea of humans as a uniquely musical species. Apparently chimpanzee's can't dance. Who knew? According to Sacks, music occupies "more areas of our brain than language does". Without getting too spiritual about it, I think music -- in one form or another -- resonates on a deeper level than most things. And as long as your name isn't Navin Johnson, you are bound to have at least a bit of rhythm somewhere inside you. So maybe it doesn't matter what type of music you listen to with your children.

From where I sit in my rookie season of fatherhood, it seems that much of the rest of my life will be about finding things to share with my son. He doesn't have to like the things I do, but still, there are any number of things we can enjoy together. I'm just glad one of those things doesn't have to be children's music.