Parent is a Verb

So, parenting. What a fraught-with-meaning word, eh?

You can give care to a child without giving birth. Plenty of adoptive parents do a phenomenal job. You can give birth to a child without giving care. Plenty of women make the decision to gift their baby to someone who can't have her own. But please, don't assume that just because you managed to squeeze a wriggling, slippery bowling ball from your hoo-ha, you automatically become worthy of the term 'parent'.

Parent is a Verb. Which means it takes action.

It does not mean having the latest OMG NO HE DI'INT! scream fest with your Total BFF on your brand-spanking new iPhone in the waiting room of the pediatrician's office while your progeny is dripping germy snot all over the chairs as he tries desperately to get a bit of a hug from Mommy because he feels like walking crud with a fever of at least 102' and you can't be bothered. If you can't be bothered to care for your child, you should not have one.

It does not mean you can leave your child strapped into their car seat in 95' weather, with the windows cracked (barely) and the car running (but no a/c) while you "just run in quick" to the 7-11 for a pack of Marlboros and a bag of Doritos. If you can't be bothered to care for your child, you should not have one.

It does not mean you can raise your child to ignore your direction because 'that would stifle her creativity' and so she learns that she's just the most Uber Special Snowflake In The Whole Wide World And Nobody Is More Important That Miss Pretty Princess and she can treat everybody like dirt because no one dares to tell her to knock it off. If you can't be bothered to care for your child, you should not have one.

Now, lest ye believe I'm stereotyping, I offer one more: It does not mean that you can foist off your child to a nanny for 20 hours a day while you get your hair and nails done, go shopping for hours for a to-die-for dress that will guarantee that witch Laura will absolutely turn GREEN over (she thinks she's so special because her boob job was done in Paris, the bitch) and then deign to make your appearance at the Parent-Teacher conference as if you actually know what your child's interests are. Say it with me, now: If you can't be bothered to care for your child, you should not have one.

Children have an infinite ability to give love. They have an infinite capacity to receive love. Loving them does not mean neglecting them. It does not mean making them the center of the Universe. It means making them listen. Making them obey. Giving them boundaries and instructions and expectations TO obey. It means being there.

It means Doing Something. Parent is a Verb.

Re-inventing the Phee

Ok so, I'm starting this blog on what would have been my 3rd anniversary of my second marriage. Guess you could say I still don't have it figured out yet. *sigh* Time to re-invent, re-package, re-purpose myself and my life.

I'm a Mom, first and foremost. I am raising a pack of boys (four teenagers, to be precise) along with the various friends and girlfriends they decide to bring home at any given time. Some days are challenging, some days are proud, some days are fun, but all days with my boys are precious.

I also am a Grammar Goddess, whose grammar and punctuation peeves are too numerous to list. I also write with a voice so if something is italicized, it means I meant to spell it that way. Although I'm not too terribly stuffy either...if the correct form seems snooty, I'll use the more socially acceptable form.

I am opinionated (hence the title) and don't much care whose toes I step on. (There's an snooty example for ya.) If you put it out there, you invite commentary. I have little patience for whiners, drama-queens, irresponsibility, blame-dodgers, and other various spineless personality traits. If you did it, own it. If you screwed up, say so and make amends. Passing blame is a 5 year-old's game. I'm talking to you, Lindsey Lohan.

I am Phoenix McHeit (aka Phee), a proud member of The International Wenches Guild. The IWG is kind-of a sorority of similar-minded, strong women who enjoy Renaissance Faires and Medieval re-enactments of various sorts. I am not in any way a spokesperson for the group; my opinions are Mine Alone.

This blog will cover a variety of topics, such as parenting (good and bad), Ren Faires, celebrity screw-ups, current events, pets, men, and anything else that catches my eye at any given time. If you have a topic you wish to see covered, leave me a note in the comments section. No promises.