Wioletta Komar, a 25-year-old mom of two, is demanding an apology from the retailer Sports Direct after she was forced from of their stores for breastfeeding her son. Komar was waiting for her father, who was to trying on a t-shirt, when she began to nurse her baby son, Daniel. “My son started crying, so I wanted to feed him. I sat on the bench near the shoe rack,” she told UK’s Daily Mail.
Then, an employee of the Nottingham, England shop approached Komar and told her that she could not nurse in the store due to “company policy.” The employee suggested she head to McDonald’s, which had a “baby and mother” room. Other customers were disturbed by the situation and helped Komar push her stroller outside. “It made me feel very upset. I was shaking and I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I was allowed to be there, but what could I do?” Komar said. I can’t help but think that any woman would react the same way to such a stressful situation! Komar made her way outside and into the rain to finish feeding Daniel, where she couldn’t help but cry. “I can’t understand why a baby has to be punished for being hungry and why I need to feel like a criminal when I just want to feed my baby son,” she said. Keep reading »
My seven-year-old son has hair that many people would kill … or at least pay an arm and a leg at the salon for: honey blonde with natural ombre highlights, ringlets that cascade down, skimming right above his shoulders. [I have seen photos of Avital's son and his hair is indeed glorious. -- Amelia]
To top it all off, he loves his curls. When he was younger I would trim them just a bit so that he could see (AKA shaggy dog syndrome). But as he grew older, he let it be known that he was super into his curls and refused to cut them. And to be honest? I was kind of thrilled. I loved his hair just as much as he did, and was happy that he wanted to keep it long. We only have a few simple rules if he wants to keep his hair long: It has to be up in a ponytail during hot/humid weather to avoid heat rash, it has to stay out of his eyes (which he accomplishes with various cloth headbands/sweatbands), and it has to be — relatively — knot free.
So, my rough and tumble, soccer playing, LEGO-obsessed, drum-playing seven-year-old still rocks his long curls. And for some reason, it completely throws everyone else off balance. At least once a day, ever since his hair started growing in earnest, my son gets mistaken for a girl without fail. As you can imagine, this causes a lot of feels. Keep reading »
Mother’s Day is still three weeks away, but the Internet is already getting started with weepy videos about our moms. And Buzzfeed’s video, “Things Moms Want Their Daughters To Know,” is up there on the weep-ster scale. From body confidence, fear of failure, and filling your life with love, the tips these mothers and soon-to-be-mothers will prick your eyes with daughterly tears. If only my own mother had participated, she could have taught everyone how to remember the proper way to set a table! (Fork on the left because both words have four letters, knife and spoon on the right because all the words have five letters. Huzzah!) [YouTube]
The Otherhood: a growing population of educated, professional women in their 30s and 40s who have yet to find love or start a family. In fact, statistics show that almost 50 percent of American women are childless — yet our society still isn’t quite sure how to treat these women, placing all sorts of assumptions and opinions on them without truly understanding their decisions.
Enter Melanie Notkin, the successful founder of Savvy Auntie and a vocal representation of this demographic. Melanie’s new book, Otherhood: Modern Women Finding A New Kind Of Happiness, is part memoir and part reflection, digging deep into world of these women and the challenges they face. Keep reading »
Show of hands: who else remembers roaming neighborhood streets unsupervised until dusk during your elementary school years?
I have crystal clear memories of being allowed to bike the three short blocks to my friend’s house (sans helmet!) after school for playdates —and not of the hyper-scheduled variety. We’d usually hang out in her backyard, poking sticks in holes or making forts with paint cloths we’d scavenge from her garage. Occasionally we’d run into the house for snacks, but if the weather was good, we’d most likely be found outside. Sometimes we’d make our way through the neighborhood, sneaking through backyards or meandering down sidewalks. We never got into any real trouble, and neither of us ever got seriously hurt beyond a skinned knee or two.
I’ve written before about how the childhood of my youth seems rather far removed from the one my son and his friends have. A combination of helicopter parenting, a lawsuit-happy society, and our growing withdrawal from a true neighborhood mentality seems to be fueling the more boxed-in and rigid rule-oriented childhoods we’re seeing. Keep reading »