the mummy's curse

We don't do days, but this mother's day article is worth a peek: Free us from the curse of the yummy mummy
"On this special day, shouldn't we seize the opportunity to kill off the myth of the Yummy Mummy once and for all and perhaps replace her with the far more realistic Bummed Mummy? [...]
What else could explain the bizarre trend, started by celebrities, for women to slim back down to the size of a Twiglet straight afterbirth or how the fact that they've managed to get back into 'those pre-pregnancy jeans' is routinely perceived as far more marvellous, much more of a 'miracle', than giving birth itself?
[...]Despite society's best efforts, parenting has not turned into a Boden catalogue, so, arguably, neither should we[...] maybe it's time women stopped envying the Yummy Mummy and started seeing her for what she is - just another tiresome fiction of perfection that no sane person has got time for.
Do the women of today really want to be remembered as the Yummy Mummy wannabe generation that cried their eyes out because they weren't Posh Spice? Do they really want inscribed on their tombstones: 'Her greatest achievement was to get back into her jeans quickly'?
Thought so. In fact, to any mother reading this: just for one day, forget all about trying to be 'yummy'. Instead, relax...and spend the rest of the day barking instructions at your progeny to attend to your every need. Isn't this what Mother's Day is all about?"

How to deal with Halloween

alhamdulillaah, we don't have to deal with Halloween at all, but there are Muslim parents and kids out there for whom it is a concern, so I thought we'd share this article (if you haven't seen it already) : Dealing with Halloween: 13 Tips for Parents.

stories that linger a lifetime

The Times has been asking several 'well-known names' to recall the books that they enjoyed the most when they were young... to kick off a charitable programme called 'BookStart' that involves donating 3 packs of free books to every child under 3 in the Uk.

It makes me wish there was something like this in Muslim countries (God knows they have the resources to do this). Besides weaning children off tv, computer and gaming screens, a programme like this would develop their minds, language skills, world awareness and emotional intelligence...and most importantly give everyone something more substantial and interesting to talk about than sales!

Personally, I find reminiscing about books a great ice-breaker and in a funny way, one feels a strange sort of bonding with people who enjoy/have enjoyed the same books. I think I've bought nearly all the books I've enjoyed as a child for my own children, subconsciously recreating my own old library, and it still feels wonderful to be surrounded by all those stories and sharing them with all the Rs.

Like me, they enjoy stories from the seerah, all the Enid Blyton school series, Famous Five and Secret Seven, The Magic Faraway Tree and the Adventures of the Wishing Chair.I was a trifle surprised though when they weren't as enamoured by Nancy Drew as I used to be, perhaps because the newer books are quite insipid and not as enagaging/informative as the old ones.

Like me, they liked Oliver Twist, Charlie and the Chocolate factory, Jane Eyre, My family and other animals and (surprisingly) Pride & Prejudice, which was a book that always exasperated me.

However, they haven't yet laid their hands on the one book that defined growing up for me, and which I loved beyond anything else: Catcher in the Rye.

40 reasons to be a "me-me" instead of mummy

Would your life be better without children?

Corinne Maier says yes in her new book called No Kid: 40 Reasons Not to Have Children (No Kid: Quarante raisons de ne pas avoir d’enfant, by Corinne Maier, published by Michalon, €14 (£9.50) which has scandalised the parents of France.

In an interview with a Times journalist, she explains her reasons why, which include:“Children are there to stop you enjoying yourself. It’s a child’s hidden face. Believe me, he will be very inventive in this area. He will be ill when you (finally) arrange a night out, he will bug you when you celebrate your birthday with your friends, he will hate it if you bring someone he’s never met back for the night, and beyond that you won’t dare tread for fear of traumatising him for life.”

She goes on to list the things you will almost certainly have to give up after having children. They include: a full night’s sleep, a lie-in, deciding to go to the cinema on the spur of the moment, staying out later than midnight (babysitters have to be relieved), visiting a museum or exhibition (children start mucking about after five mintues), taking your holiday anywhere other than destinations where there is a beach and a kids’ club, taking a holiday during term-time and smoking in front of your children, now deemed a “crime against humanity”."

All of which seem like pretty good reasons to me to have children...children are perhaps Allaah's way of preventing human beings from being consumed by their own selfishness.

The journalist, it seems, was inspired by the author and came up with her own 20 reasons not to have kids at the end of the article:

-- Childbirth is torture
— You will become a mobile feeding bottle
— You will struggle to continue having fun yourself
— You will lose touch with your friends
— You will have to learn a language of idiots to communicate with your children
— Your children will kill your desire
— Children sound the death knell of the couple
— Having children is conformist
— Children are expensive
— You will be duped into thinking that there is such a thing as a perfect child
— You will inevitably be disappointed by your own child
— You will be expected to be a mother before you are a professional and a woman
— Families are a nightmare
— Children will put the seal on your childhood dreams
— You can’t stop yourself wanting complete happiness for your progeny
— Staying at home to look after children is breathtakingly dull
— You have to choose between motherhood and professional success
— When a child appears, the father disappears (subhaanallaah...sign of the times or what?!)
— There are already too many children on the planet Children are dangerous. They will take you to court without a second thought

This list, even if it's tongue-in-cheek, is a really sad reflection on the popular perception of parenthood...(it's not even an East v/s West, Muslim v/s non-Muslim thing...I've heard of similar stuff from people of all cultures and religious persuasions.)

All I have to say is "innamal 'aamaalu bin niyyah" (every action is judged by its underlying intention)...may Allaah raise our children to righteousness, make them the coolness of our eyes and a source of reward in this world and the next. Aaameen.

only in America!

Outsourcing parenthood
from: Evening Standard via GulfNews

The new trend in American parenting is to outsource the job. This takes nannying to the highest possible art form: all the stuff that bores you rigid can now be subcontracted out to someone else.

It started when American working mothers realised they were spending an average of 18 more hours a week at work than they did in 1965, leaving less time for housework. Some genius hit on the fact that they could corner the market in getting some sap to do boring household chores.

So now, someone else can make your child's lunchbox. A firm based in Virginia, Health-e-Lunch Kids, has found a niche supplying brownbag lunches to children on their way to school. Other firms have sprouted up across the country.
You can also pay someone to take your child not only to school, giving you a few extra minutes in bed every day, but also to football practice and to the dentist.

You can also hire someone to come and comb the lice out of your child's hair. A couple in Houston spent months washing their child's head with olive oil and finally, in desperation, hired a woman called Penny Warner, who owns a firm called the Texas Lice Squad.
Penny's job is to go from house to house in her minivan with a bottle of Nix and a comb. She charges $55 (Dh202) per hour. She has done so well with frustrated parents that in the autumn she is swapping her minivan for a real office, with a shopfront and staff.
What does this all mean to the future of parenting? Last year, an American journalist based in London wrote about how bored she was with her children.

The article caused a furore in America, where people wanted to lynch her. But the truth was that, on some levels, she was right -- it is not fun to read Thomas the Tank Engine 500 times, or to smear sunblock on a wriggling toddler, or to make small talk with people you ordinarily would not be caught dead with on children's playdates. But when it comes to children, these tasks should be done out of duty, obligation, and yes, love.

The farming-out of parenthood is all in the interest of helping exhausted mothers and fathers achieve that perfect state of lifework balance. The truth is: there is no balance.
Whenever I try to complain to my mother about how tired I am, she - a mother of seven - snaps: "You're a mother. You're supposed to be tired."

But not in America, where everything can be perfected.

There is so much I miss about my home country. The energy and that corny Hollywood-themed inspiration that everyone can achieve their dream if they want to. But not the notion that anything can be bought: youth with an injection of Botox; status with a membership to the right club - and parenthood by merely finding the right staff.

The Real Toy Story

Ever wondered how happy are the people who make the cheap 'Made-in-China' toys that come with your children's "Happy Meals" and "Kiddie Meals" at fast food restaurants?

Here's your chance to find out:"Happy Meal" Toys Made by Sad Sweatshop Workers

I got thinking about this b/z of the recent ruckus regarding Mattel's recall of nearly two million Chinese-made toys over concerns they contain excessive levels of lead paint and loose parts.

An extract from 'The Real Toy Story' by Eric Clark (published by Black Swan at £8.99) reveals the real cost of cheap toys from China:

"The dominance of China in toy production is staggering.
There are about 8,000 factories employing some three million workers spread over six areas, of which the Pearl River Delta is by far the largest. Virtually all the familiar Western toy names - led by U.S. giants Mattel and Hasbro - are made here. These workers make 80 per cent of all America's toys.
In children's picture books, Santa's beaming elves may still be making the toys, but the reality is that for elves we should read migrants - millions of them who have travelled by bus from rural areas up to three days' journey away, part of the biggest movement of people in human history.
Since the migration began, more than 50 million have passed through the factories of Guangdong province, where the Pearl River Delta lies.
If it is almost impossible to comprehend the scale of the movement of people, it is even more difficult for a Westerner to imagine the daily life of one of these toy workers.
Conditions obviously vary, from the acceptable to the unimaginably awful, but it is possible, from a host of reports and interviews conducted well away from factory premises, to construct a composite of the life and working conditions of one of the workers.

Li Mei is worn out, so she looks older than her 18 years.
Her skin is bad from too little daylight and she has many healing and still-open cuts on her hands.
Her neck, chest and forearms are heavily mottled with the raised red patches of allergy caused by toxic chemicals, which she scratches as she speaks.
She coughs a lot, and has chronic aches and pains, frequent headaches and blurred vision.
All these ailments have appeared during the past two years. Li Mei is a migrant from the rural province of Western Sichuan. At first, she is thrilled to be one of the dagongmei - the working girls - and to leave the hamlet where there are no roads and only limited electricity. But she is frightened because the factories have a reputation as sweatshops. Many return with disfigurements and illnesses.

And there was the fate of Li Chunmei.
Lin Chunmei, 19, was a 'runner' in the Bainan Toy Factory, rushing stuffed animals from one worker to the next for each step in production.
Mattel recalled thousands of toys over choking fearsIt was said she ran 16 hours a day, seven days a week, for two solid months.
Lin Chunmei was paid the equivalent of 7 pence an hour.
She collapsed one night, bleeding from nose and mouth, and was found hours later. She died before the ambulance arrived. Her parents were told it was an 'unknown death' and received a small sum in compensation.

But the villagers said it was the new disease, death from overwork.
Li Mei is certain nothing like this will happen to her: she is strong, accustomed to physically demanding tasks such as drawing water and cutting wood.
Her parents have borrowed heavily to buy the various personal documents she needs.
In four or five years, she plans to go home, buy a house and get married. She thinks about this all the time.

The factory where she toils is one of three buildings in a compound with high fences and a sliding metal gate, where two guards check everyone going in and out.
Beside it stands a warehouse and dormitory block. Li Mei's dormitory is on the eighth floor, a small room about 12 by 23 feet.
There are 32 rooms like it on this floor.
It is lit by a single fluorescent bar - her wages have the electricity costs docked - and the floor is concrete.
Double and triple bunk beds made of metal take up every inch of wall space.
During peak periods, when the factory takes on extra staff, girls often sleep two to a single bed.
Under the window, a grubby sink has a single tap. A notice is stuck to the wall, rules which another girl reads to her.

There are many, so she can remember only a few: 'No step on grass, offenders will be fined 50 yuan (£3.30).' 'No male or female staff going to the other gender's dormitory. The offender will be fired.'

Li Mei waits in a long queue of girls for the bathroom that two dozen people use to shower and wash their clothes. She is still there at midnight, when everyone in the village has long been asleep, but the workers are only just off shift, too tired even to grumble as they wait in line. Sometimes, the girl beside her says, 'there is no water even to brush your teeth, and the toilet is horrible.' The water (which, like lavatory paper, Li Mei is charged for) is cold. By 2am she is finally in her lower bunk bed, separated from the hard surface by a straw mat even thinner than the one she uses at home. Next morning she has no breakfast, for it is a meal she has to buy and prepare herself.

At 7.30am, in factory uniform of blue blouse with a white collar over trousers with her ID card displayed (she would be fined two days' wages if it was lost), she follows her guide through passages lined with cardboard boxes.
The air in the spraying and colouring department is filled with paint dust and smells sourly of chemicals -acetone, ethylene, trichloride, benzene.
The windows are fitted with wire mesh, the exits locked to prevent pilfering.
Noisy ventilators add to the din of the machines so the team leader has to shout to be heard.
Li Mei is given a blue apron and shown how to paint the eyes of the dolls with four pens of different sizes: she has to paint one every 7.2 seconds - 4,000 a day.
By the end of the second day, Li Mei's cotton mask and gloves are thick with paint particles and difficult to use. She asks for new ones but is refused. During the first few days, she finds the heat combined with the smell of chemicals repulsive.
She feels sick, has stomach-aches and is dizzy. Once, when she faints, her section leader tells her to rest, rub on some herbal ointment then return to work. Li Mei sneezes constantly and her eyes stream.

The bosses move her to the moulding department. She feels a blast of heat - she is told later it rises to 104F - when the door is opened. She is told to watch the other workers and then begins to stamp out parts of plastic dolls with repetitive movements performed many times a minute, 3,000 times a day. Gloves are issued but no one can wear them - it is unbearably hot and they make it difficult to handle the tiny plastic parts: once the production line starts, her hands and eyes cannot stop for a minute.
Li Mei has to learn a lot of rules because she will be fined for any infringement.
Her section leader tells her there is to be no chatting, joking, laughing or quarrelling.
She must not disturb anyone's work, nap, or read a newspaper.
She must not fail to punch her work card, nor must she punch in for another worker.
She will lose two hours' wages for each minute she is late, and for half an hour she will lose a day's pay. For poor quality work, she may be dismissed or fined.
So she works carefully - and that means too slowly, so she is fined two days' pay.
Like most workers, Li Mei knows within a month that she is being unlawfully exploited.
She soon has wounds on her hands and elbows, and burn marks on her uniform.
When she is moved to a job trimming the plastic toys with small sharp knives, she often cuts herself, once so badly that her hand bleeds heavily - but the medical box is locked. So she binds the wound up in cloth. Worse things happen: workers in the die-casting and moulding departments lose fingers and even arms, while hole-making workers often have their hands punctured and crushed because they have no reinforced gloves.

With her tiny pay and all her debts, Li Mei cannot save. She cannot resign from the factory but must apply for 'voluntary automatic leave'. This means she would be severing the 'work contract' at her request. As punishment she must forfeit one-and-a-half months' wages. Without that, she does not have enough for the fare home. Li Mei says: "I'm tired to death and I don't earn much. "It makes everything meaningless." All she can do is go on. "When we are working at the factory, we belong to the factory."

The American toy industry dominates the whole of the globe. It is a $22 billion business. Every year it puts almost 3.6 billion toys into the home market alone, including 76 million dolls, 349 million plush toys, 125 million action figures, 279 million Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars.

Yet the toy business is no longer fun and games. It's a harsh, corporate world, driven by social and demographic changes, concerns about stock prices and fierce battles between global brands. By law, the maximum any Chinese worker should be on the assembly line is 53 hours per week.
But the China Labour Bulletin, a Hong Kong-based journal supporting independent unions and workers' rights, says 80 hours is common.
"Mattel has no way to know the truth about what really goes on here," said one worker. "Every time there is an inspection, the bosses tell us what lies to say."
This was supported by others who said that managers promised them extra pay if they pretended that they worked only eight hours a day, six days a week.
One government official, speaking on condition of anonymity, revealed that when government officers or foreign business executives visit the factories, the managers are tipped off beforehand and under-age workers are sent home.

In August 2006, the Chinese press carried the story of a female migrant worker who died from brain-stem bleeding after reportedly working non-stop for 21 hours in a toy factory in Zengzheng county in Guangzhou. But it is unrealistic to expect that Chinese manufacturers will voluntarily improve conditions for workers.

The crux of the problem is this: by demanding that their suppliers produce goods at ever cheaper prices and demanding deadlines, the toy industry is almost forcing them to act illegally, despite the codes of practice it struggles to impose on them.
For consumers, this presents a dilemma which was neatly summed up for me by a couple pushing a loaded trolley down the toy aisles of a large superstore last Christmas.
"They're probably made under awful conditions but what do you do?" they asked.
"Accept it, or leave the kids with nothing."

the sweetest links

just sharing the love...some links I've been sent and looked up recently...

My *absolute* personal favourite: The Official Large Families FAQ (with suggested replies)
...includes the all-time FAQest FAQs of all:
"Are they all yours?"
"I can't believe how you do it, I cannot even handle my two!"
"How can you afford having so many?"
"Are you planning to have any more?"
"I hope you aren't planning to have anymore?!?"

I also liked: Mikvah: Jewish perspectives on childbirth...very interesting and well produced site...I'm hoping to organise something like this for Muslims, in shaa Allaah, b/z most Muslim childbirth resources on the net are rather scattered and sketchy.

And a site that has all the nitty gritty about lactation: KellyMom : for the seriously scientifically inclined...has details on anatomy and physiology and hormones and graphs...all the stuff that I *really* enjoy...look it up!

sermons in stones and good in everything

I find The Lion King disturbing...besides the usual reasons that people cite for avoiding Disney movies, I find the sequence where little Simba's uncle Scar traps him right in the path of a wildebeest stampede he engineers himself (by promising him a "surprise to die for"), disturbingly realistic...how often do we hear of adults wilfully preying on vulnerable, trusting little minds!

still...one positive thing I got out of that movie was the need for life to be kept real for kids...it's absurd (and potentially dangerous) to shelter children to the extent that they start looking at everything/everyone with rose-tinted glasses.

I'm not saying that we should encourage children to grow into paranoid/non-trusting people, but yes, they definitely need to be aware of how there are people out there who could take unfair advantage of their naivete/vulnerability/trust.

What made me think of this was a report in The Times about a cartoon character called Dot: "...an imaginary nine-year-old girl called Miss Dorothy.Com – known to fans as Dot. Dot started as the main character on the site where children could log on for information on how to recognise and avoid danger. But she became central to a series of books for teachers, community leaders and pupils.

Dot is accompanied by a cast of characters including Wizard the dog, Cursor the Cat and Mister Mouse, who travel the virtual world and real schools teaching children.

“You can’t wrap your kids up in cotton wool and you can’t watch over them all the time,” says Sharon [Ed:the creator of Dot]. “Parents and schoolteachers often tell children off if they do something wrong, but really the best time to teach lessons in personal safety is beforehand in a safe environment. Prevention is better than cure.

“Dot is intentionally an out-of-the-ordinary kind of girl. She’s striking but not conventionally attractive. She’s got red hair and wears glasses. She has the problems we all have but she has bags of self-esteem and compassion. The children start by learning about Dot. They are shown by her example how to value their own feelings. Most importantly, they are taught to recognise the red flags that signal dangerous situations and how to blow the whistle.”

Lessons, which can be incorporated into the national curriculum for PSHE (personal, social and health education) and citizenship, ICT (information and communication technology) and literacy, are sometimes very specific such as the ones on internet safety. Sometimes they are in sensitive areas such as how to recognise and disclose adult behaviour.

Occasionally lessons are less easy to define – how to deal with anger or understand the difference between good and bad secrets. But they are always taught in the same structured and creative way. There is an introduction, objectives and a main activity where the topic is discussed through a creative exercise such as drawing or acting.

The lessons can be testing for young children but, according to Gill Frances, the director of children’s development at the National Children’s Bureau, they are crucial. “This programme is well-thought-out and children find it captivating. We all want our children to carry the baton forward – this is an excellent way to stop them dropping it.” Once children reach secondary school they move onto the second stage, a teen soap called Watch Over Me.

There are three series, each of nine episodes. The first is for 11-13s, the second for 13-15s and the last for those in their final years at school. Each episode is used as the stimulus for discussion on abuse, bullying, drugs, road safety, guns and knife crimes and racism.

can't fool all the people, all the time

Given that the overwhelming majority of self-described "Potter-maniacs" believe it's only uber-religious nuts who find fault with Harry Potter books and the premise they are based on, I found this book review refreshing... alhamdulillaah for the occasional triumph of common sense in popular media.

Harry Potter's big con is the prose

"It is time to make a stand against Harry Potter. A futile stand, no death or glory involved: just popping my head over the trenches so it can be mowed off by the vast, unstoppable juggernaut of popular acclaim before I have begun to open my mouth.
[...]

I have come, with some regret, to this conclusion: their style is toxic. And this is Rowling's fault. I know that I am anticipating what the style of the latest book will be in advance of actually seeing it, but really, I don't think I'm going out on a limb here. Of course, if she has turned into a first-class writer with her forthcoming Potter book, I will happily, no, joyously, eat my words.

But until then, we have to swallow hers. And for all that she is gifted enough in devising popular scenarios, the words on the page are flat. I think it was Verlaine who said that he could never write a novel because he would have to write, at some point, something like "the count walked into the drawing-room" - not a scruple that can have bothered JK Rowling, who is happy enough writing the most pedestrian descriptive prose.
Here, from page 324 of The Order of the Phoenix, to give you a typical example, are six consecutive descriptions of the way people speak. "...said Snape maliciously," "... said Harry furiously", " ... he said glumly", "... said Hermione severely", "... said Ron indignantly", " ... said Hermione loftily". Do I need to explain why that is such second-rate writing?

If I do, then that means you're one of the many adults who don't have a problem with the retreat into infantilism that your willing immersion in the Potter books represents. It doesn't make you a bad or silly person. But if you have the patience to read it without noticing how plodding it is, then you are self-evidently someone on whom the possibilities of the English language are largely lost.

This is the kind of prose that reasonably intelligent nine-year-olds consider pretty hot stuff, if they're producing it themselves; for a highly-educated woman like Rowling to knock out the same kind of material is, shall we say, somewhat disappointing.

Children exposed to this kind of writing aren't learning anything new about words, or being stretched in any way; as Harold Bloom said, they're not going to be inspired to go off and read the Alice books, or any other enduring classic.

People go hoopla because they're delighted that Rowling has got children reading books - big, fat books without pictures at that. Can't argue with that: and maybe they will learn something about sheer reading stamina in the process. But it's all too easy.
The popular writer whose style is most similar is, it suddenly occurs to me, Jeffrey Archer (all those dead adverbs). All that paper, all those trees felled, all those words ... surely Rowling could have chosen some better ones, or put them together in a more exciting way?

okay, couldn't resist posting one last thing..

Beauty v/s Babies and Beards

By: Rabbi Shmuley Boteach
courtesy: Beliefnet

(excerpt)

Have you ever tried to infiltrate business class holding a baby? Had I arrived with something actually ticking that said “BOMB” in big, bold letters, I would have been accorded a more pleasant reception. Everyone looked at me as if I had boarded with an obvious contagious disease.

The baby, coupled with the fact that the guy bringing “it” on board had a yarmulke and an unruly beard (i.e., obviously one of those religious fanatics who is far too fertile by half), had most of the passengers ready to trade in their expensive business-class tickets to fly cargo.

Next, the official persecution began. After great efforts on my part to get settled with my baby into my seat, while maintaining access to the thirty books that I needed to research my next book, the flight attendant walked over.

“Is that your seat?” she asked, skepticism oozing out of every well-powdered pore.
I confirmed that it was.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I confirmed that I was.
“I’m going to have to see your boarding pass.” I was indignant. “Let me get this straight,” I said to her. “There are thirty passengers in business, and you single me out and demand my boarding pass?”
“If you don’t immediately present your boarding pass, I will have you removed from the airplane.” I picked up the baby, removed the library from my lap, reached into the overhead compartment, rummaged through my bag, found the boarding pass, presented it to the stewardess, and took a deep breath.

She looked it over. There it was, in black and white, Seat 2F. “Wait here,” she said. She went to the front of the aircraft, returning a few minutes later. “Were you upgraded on this flight?” “No,” I said, “I was booked in business from the outset.” Foiled in her mission to rid business class of beards and babies, she retreated to the other well-coiffed stewardess, and spent the next ten hours whispering and pointing, even after the baby was transferred to to my wife who was sitting with the common folks.

Fast forward, two weeks. I am now traveling first class on a flight from Newark to Dallas, courtesy of a TV station. I have no baby, just a laptop. They announce that First Class passengers may board. I start ambling forward when, pushing through the crowd, I am scuttled aside by a very tall, leggy blonde. Her arrogant demeanor says one thing: model.
Within a few minutes she is ensconced in her bulkhead seat, a pristine white poodle by her side, which she hugs and kisses and shares her drink with. First I have to witness the nauseating spectacle of all of the female flight attendants queuing up to pet the dog. “Oh, is this yours? She’s just gorgeous. Oh, Stacy, come and look at this beautiful little furry thing.” How my baby and I had earlier been treated immediately comes to mind.
Later I notice that the flight attendants pretend not to see when Missy Long Legs holds the pooch during landing when “it” should have been put in its container.
The hypothetical scoreboard high in the clouds reads,
Beauty: One, Beard: Zero.
Dog: One. Baby: Zero.
I was frankly flummoxed by the degree of attention that was heaped upon this passenger, and how the other women treated her as their natural superior. In 1996, nearly 700,000 Americans underwent plastic surgery for aesthetic purposes. In the U.S. people spend more money on beauty than they do on education or social services—a good illustration of our priorities.

There is something seriously wrong in the world when children are treated as a nuisance while dogs are treated as love objects. And there is something seriously amiss when appearance, rather than actions, can dictate likeability. There is something dangerously off track when men and women who love children, and aren't afraid to have large families, must feel apologetic and guilty for doing so.
To paraphrase Martin Luther King, we await the day when our children will be judged by the content of their character rather than the comeliness of their skin. And we await the day when the fact of our children’s existence is not judged at all, but seen as the embodiment of infinite blessing .