You’ve got WHAT in your nappy?

I should start off saying that the nappy making business has GOT to be lucrative! I have a 19 month old and reckon I’ve spent at least $1,000 on nappies so far. Maybe more, and that doesn’t include the wipes or little bags to put them in.

Nappies are like everything else – they’re constantly being upgraded. Better design, better fit, better absorption…. So it’s really no surprise that nappies change colour from white. Last weekend, the new denim look nappies were launched by Huggies in the US.


Stuart Schneider, Snr Brand Director at Huggies said this:

“Jeans have always been a Mommy fashion must-have, but now it’s time for their little ones to steal the style.  The design helps babies stay trendy while keeping dry with the same revolutionary design and proven leakage protection that moms have come to know and trust from the Huggies brand.”

What I don’t understand behind this marketing is the fact that nappies are supposed to be like the baby’s underwear… covered up and receptacles of waste.

Is this a gimmick used by Huggies to cash in on the “Why Bother With Clothing – Underwear Is Plenty” movement that seems to be taking hold of everyone from Lady Gaga to Miley Cyrus?

Is this a way to make parents think its ok to let their kid go out in public showing their nappy? Isn’t this a bit ‘white trash?’ 

I mean, once they hit a certain age it’s highly inappropriate. You wouldn’t let your 5 year old go shopping with you at Coles wearing just his Ben Ten underpants… would you?  Maybe I’m pedantic, but any time my daughter has worn a skirt, I make sure the nappy is covered over with a frilly pair of what I call over-pants. It’s like bloomers for babies.

So anyway the denim diaper story somewhat made news. Well, let’s just say that earlier in the week, numerous bloggers took note.


I on the other hand, thought nappies probably weren’t worth discussing. Maybe because I’m still very much in the routine of changing them, so nappies to me are like laundry powder. “New brand? Oh, that’s nice. It’s still washing and not that exciting.”  Except cleaning clothes is WAY more pleasant than changing nappies, so my conclusion was to leave Huggies and their denim diapers well alone.

But things just got weird. I’ll be filing this one under “What were they thinking!” because check out this TV ad.

Incase you can’t understand the voice over; this is what he actually says:

My diaper is full
Full of chic
When it’s a number 2
I look like number 1
I poo in blue

I don’t know what’s freakier… a nappy full of chic, (hmm that kind of rhymes with another 4 letter word) or the tag line “The coolest you’ll look pooping your pants.”

I wonder if the ad execs have ever seen a baby pooping. It’s actually quite disturbing, especially if their diet’s been a bit short on fibre.

My little girl hides, has done for months.  Even in strange places, she’ll find a corner somewhere and get down to business. On the odd occasion where I can see her face, I feel as though I’m violating her privacy, and turn away. Because babies faces look like ours do when we’re ‘releasing a demon. ‘

It’s not pretty, and it most certainly is not cool.

But nappy ad creators seem to be hell bent on making us think babies wearing their brand of nappies are one step ahead of us. Cooler than us, smarter than us, and always having the last laugh.

Actually now that I consider that…maybe they are.

Here are a couple of other ads that despite their obvious humour, still make me squirm and grateful my first baby came without a pointer. The whole experience was shocking enough without getting pissed on, thanks.

Anyway, I’ll be looking out to see if the denim diaper’s make their way to Australia. Not that I’ll be purchasing. Until they come up with a way to completely cover a nappy with sparkles or bling while keeping the price affordable, I’ll stick with the always-in-fashion-classic-white.


When HATE takes hold

Have you ever hated someone? Like – really hated. I’m not talking about the dick head that pulls out in front of you and makes you slam on your brakes that have just been realigned, or when the silly person in front of you at the check-out is questioning the cost of every item that scans, always when you’re in a huge hurry. 

No. Wanting to scream out loud, “Would you get on with it!” is not hating someone. Neither is pulling a middle finger at the rev head who thinks his spoiler and mag wheels entitle him to front position on the road.

No no. Let me explain hate.

Hate is when you want to take someone’s face in your hands, find a big nasty patch of rough and jagged gravel, and rub their face into that gravel hard until it bleeds. And when they look at you with mercy, do you pass them a tissue so they can wipe the blood out of their eye? No. You spit in their blood soaked face and walk away laughing thinking to yourself…. You haven’t even seen the start of it…

Hate comes from an ugly place. I’m not sure where it’s located…   Maybe in the same part of the brain that recognises offensive smells, the same part that makes us vomit at the thought of handling a dead rat, and the same part of the brain that warns you NOT to go and see that Adam Sandler film.

Actually, to be honest, I don’t think hate comes from our brains at all. I think it comes from our hearts – which is strange isn’t it? That an organ we associate with love could make us so angry and spiteful?

 The thing is this yesterday I had a visit from hate. Luckily, it didn’t hang around too long, I sent it running as soon as I realised it had hold of me.

But while I was being visited, and feeling all this hate, and marinating in bitterness and dreaming of vengeance, I had to put my 1 year old daughter to bed. As I read her usual bed time book, I could feel my heart pounding. I wasn’t thinking about Grandpa or Thomas or their Green Umbrella… I was dwelling on things that had been said to make me feel so hateful. Then as I sang her bed time song and cuddled her before laying her in the cot, I became so overwhelmed with emotion that I couldn’t sing. I was warbling and fighting back tears.

It’s as though my heart was totally confused.

Because how can you feel so much unconditional love and adoration for someone, yet so much anger and   yuk for someone else?

I came downstairs and cried (silly me) and decided that I have more important people to use up my emotion on. And that it’s so not worth harbouring all this extreme hate when I actually feel like the luckiest person in the world when I’m holding my daughter in my arms.

 So what had happened to make me feel to angry and hateful?


I’m doing some other writing work at the moment. Work that I actually get paid for so I kind of have to make it a priority. The thing is it involves working with other people which I’m normally very good at, in fact I miss it.

But I find it really hard to get along with Fascist Gutter Pig Slappers.

(wow, it comes so easily) Anyway, not counting past crimes and without giving away too much information.. we had words. Actually she had orders. For me. And they weren’t requests or suggestions… orders.


I usually try my hardest to avoid this person. That’s what I do when I dislike someone. I pretend their invisible to me so I don’t have to feel this horrid feeling. It’s so oppressive and unhealthy.

“You’re not the boss of me! Got it bitch?” Is what I SHOULD HAVE said.

Instead, I gave her my emptiest smile and said, “No frickin’ worries.”

Except I didn’t say frickin.

Then I wreaked havoc on her and all of her future endeavours in my head until I was so enraged and so furious and so filled with contempt and hate and anger until… well, like I said I broke down.

And that’s what hate does. Besides giving you perspective eventually, it doesn’t actually help. 

People say hate is the same as love, but I think it’s the opposite of love, because love is unselfish.

Hate is such a self indulgent and self centred emotion for another human being. It’s like infatuation and lust. You get obsessed with hating the person and say or do crazy things. Sometimes you forget why you hate them. And now even just thinking about yesterday, my hatred seems so out of context and really not necessary.

AGES ago I went out with a boy who had family in the mafia. I dated him on and off for 6 years. While we no longer speak, I certainly learnt a lot from him. Mainly… How To Be Sicilian.  He instilled in me a great sense of justice and hatred and vengeance. And boy oh boy, was I was the brunt of it one time too. I was telling a table full of young men at a bar that Cindy wasn’t my real name, but in fact just my stage name. (And that’s a true story by the way). What kind of stage? Well I made them guess didn’t I… and that was about as much as my 22 year old hot headed Sicilian fianzata could take. I got dragged out of there faster than you can say, “No, I’m not a stripper!”

 Anyway, I got out of that controlling relationship. Which makes me wonder..

Is that what leads people to hate. Having no control over something ? And they hate the lack of control so they blame whoever’s in their face?

I do that.

Or is it genetic? Man I’ve seen both of my parents angry. A little scary either way, though for different reasons. In fact after updating my facebook status yesterday with a comment that I would like to throw something – my sister made the comment, “Ah there’s that charming family rage.” I ask about the genetic factor because some people just don’t have hate within them. Some people really are sweet to the core.

I’m not.  Clearly…. and I think the ‘face-into-gravel’ story really illustrated that well.

This particular girl that I claim to hate?  Maybe I’m misinterpreting where she was coming from. Maybe. She was probably trying to be helpful and perhaps doesn’t understand what I consider proper social ettiquette and politeness. HARDLY hate-worthy behaviour.

But I can’t help that just hearing her name makes my heart race. I feel my muscles tense up and my eyes get all shifty like I want to pounce and attack. Like the Leo that I am. ROOOOAAAR!!!

What am I trying to protect?

Probably just myself and my own ego.

I can’t imagine what I’d be like if I was famous, and copped the brunt of my own narky statements sometimes. Diva? I reckon I’d be a living nightmare!

I can’t imagine how hateful I’d feel towards someone who wrote a letter to my daughter that made fun of my husband and suggested she make me smile and get a tan. (Sorry Katie Holmes).

And boy would I HATE HATE HATE someone who totally ridiculed me for writing a book – and sticking a few crystals on my hoo ha. (Sorry Jennifer Love).

As for my comments on being a Skank  McSkankity  Skank – No Michelle McGee. I am NOT SORRY you disgusting shameless piece of trash. You and Jesse James can rot in Nazi hell for all I care. Seriosuly you moron, why would I apologise to your pathetic, homewrecking excuse for a brain. Go back to whatever disgusting, diseased filled crawlspace you came from and STFU, you worthless hack!

And THAT, boys and girls – is what you call HATE.

A letter I doubt I’ll be sending… to the Blue Wiggle

Dear Anthony

I’ve noticed you’ve been bleaching your teeth. Or maybe you just got a whole new set?  Hell we all know you can afford it. Whatever, they’re very white now aren’t they?

I noticed this morning – when I glanced at the tv and was nearly blinded. Is this an ongoing thing? Or was it a one off dental treatment? Either way – it’s time to lay off.

Actually – you could do that, or the other option is that next time you and the other wiggles get together; you all discuss the issue of your teeth. You all have matching outfits, so perhaps you could put it to the other wiggles, Murray in particular who has a mouth that looks like a can of kidney beans, that they consider bleaching too, you know, so you all have matching smiles.

Here are some before and after shots I found of your teeth.


If you’re going to recommend your dentist to them, perhaps give them a heads up and tell them to ask your dentist to go easy. Because Anthony, your glowing smile is…. well let’s just say in the event of a black out you could reflect light off your chompers and lead the children and animals to safety.

It might also be worth mentioning to Sam that if he doesn’t want to, no drama. Not only because he’s only been a wiggle for a little while, and might not have the cash flow the rest of you have, but also – he’s WAY younger and so his teeth aren’t so bad, but he will have to keep a close watch given that his shirt will only bring out the yellow in his teeth. If you don’t believe me, see Greg’s teeth in the before shot.

And look while we’re on the subject of uniforms, can you possibly mention to the wardrobe department, it’s time to lose the big belt buckles featuring the wiggles logo. It’s on your shirts, it’s in practically every song – we know who you are, I don’t need to read it above your crotch as well.

A wiggly wiggly thanks,

PS – I know he’s your special friend, but could you please also ask the script writers to kill off Henry the Octopus? Or at least make him mute? Please? I mean, come on. Watch this and tell me it’s bearable.

A letter I doubt I’ll be sending….to Suri Cruise.

Dear Suri

I don’t know if you can read yet, I know you go to scientology school. I have a feeling you might know more about Zenu and the alien beings that are trapped inside human bodies called Thetans than you do about the alphabet…. So I’ve included lots of pictures for you.

Just incase you can read,  I wanted to tell you that all the people who are saying you should not still be drinking from a bottle  at 4 years old don’t mean to pick on you.  You ignore them ok?

They are just upset with your dad. Mainly since Vanilla Sky, but also for a string of distractingly bad movies that they would like their money back for. Well the movies, and the couch jumping that you will probably cringe at one day like we all did, except that it’s your father so it’s worse for you, (sorry about that.)

Also – when you’re older you might start seeing pictures of yourself getting in and out of helicopters, going back stage at broadways productions, or pictures like the ones I’ve included below wearing Dolce & Gabbana trench coats, carrying designer handbags, and buying lipstick… and these photos will be accompanied by headlines like, “Suri Cruise’s Spoilt Life” or “Suri Cruise: Proud Owner of a $30,000 Toy Car.”

There may be some other funny things you come across too. Like that your father isn’t your father; or that your father shortlisted a bunch of women to be your mother; or that you’re your father has sucked the life out of Joey Potter good and proper.

Look the stuff about you – just ignore. In a few years everyone will forget about you until you’re 16 years old and discovering boys, drugs and what it feels like to wear no underpants.  If your mum gets knocked up again you might even get a break sooner than you think.  The stuff about your parents though, that will probably persist.

Here’s my suggestion. Lay low.  Quit with the designer threads and the high heels and stop flaunting your fabulous lifestyle all over town. Normally I’d be writing to your mother about this, but she told everyone YOU’RE the one who chooses your clothes, and YOU decide what time to go to bed, and now we see YOU decide what to drink from.  So the ball is in your court.  Despite what granma told you, you can’t have your cupcake and lick the icing too.

If you don’t want the headlines to continue – stop now.  Put away your flamingo number and start dressing like Violet Affleck.  Nobody accuses her of anything but being happy.

I tell you what though Suri, you are one very stylish little girl, and given the selection of clothing you have chosen for yourself,  I’d say you should be knocking on Anna Wintour’s door for a job!

I hope you know how lucky you are that your parents give you US$3 million to spend on your wardrobe. Maybe some time I can come and visit you, and you can choose some clothes for me too.

Anyway, remember what I said. Now you be a good girl and go and tell your mum to make herself a strong cup of coffee. And maybe suggest she gets a spray tan, and for goodness sake… do something cute so she’ll smile.

Lots of love

PS – Also – if you get a quiet moment with your dad, can you ask him to stop doing anything in front of a camera for a while. Like forever?

Pregnancy & Motherhood – a prescription for perfection?


So I’m reading through yesterdays blog, and am alarmed at something I’ve written.

Speaking on Jennifer Love Hewitt’s new dating book, and referring to this statement:  From the list of  What A Man Should Know: How to pick a diamond, and To always have a coat for you.

I responded with:  WOW. You’ve never had a baby with a guy have you? Have a baby and you’ll see how ridiculously RUBBISH that statement is.

While I maintain that Jen and I don’t share the same ideals vis-à-vis regarding dating situations and what a man REALLY ought to know,  I was thinking how incredibly pretentious it might sound to those who have never had a baby. Having a baby with your partner does not automatically mean your list of “what a man should know” is more noble, and I certainly made it sound that way.

I wrote it only with the intention of giving my perspective which is – since having a third person enter the relationship (the baby), it has made getting along so much harder. It has made compromising more difficult, it has reduced my amount of sleep and made both of us less tolerant in stressful situations. And so – my list of ‘desirable traits’ sure has changed, which no doubt explains why so many couples split after children.  But I am also FULLY aware that there are a lot of WAY more important attributes a man should have besides providing you with a warm protective covering – with or WITHOUT a child.

The truth is though, there are women out there who feel they are more qualified to dish out advice on life and love because they have children, and are therefore SUPERIOR HUMAN BEINGS; physically, mentally, spiritually, just about every way possible.

I remember conversations I had with these women when I was without child. Here’s an example..

ME: I would NEVER NOT have sex just because I’m a bit tired.
THEM: You can say that now because you don’t have a baby or children… you just wait. You’ll see.

I DID see and they WERE right. But it was the tone.

I have overheard hundreds of harrowing stories regarding motherhood and how it affects your sleep, sex, eating, love life, etc…  and when one mother is telling another mother I think it’s ok. But when you’re telling someone who hasn’t had a child, it can come across completely holier-than-thou.

It starts during pregnancy, when every fibre of your being is changing so quickly it’s just all so overwhelming. You find yourself telling the waiter in a restaurant: Can I have my Wagyu rump cooked medium to well? Then they tell you all the reasons this is silly, and you reply ever so self righteously:  Yes, but I’m actually pregnant!!!  I need my meat cooked!!!

Or how about at the airport checking in: I’m pregnant! Are there any seats left at the emergency exit?

Or in a line to use the ladies loos, you look down the line and do a big loud sigh so everyone can hear you… then a little jiggle on the spot which implies you are about to have a bit of drizzle hit the knickers… knowing FULL WELL some nice lady who’s had a child herself will let you go ahead of her… “Oh you’re pregnant – you go before me.” “Really, that’s ok?” you ask thinking it was about time someone noticed!

Then I remembered something I once saw on YouTube which made me laugh but also made me feel completely ludicrous because I realised I was a tad guilty!

Here it is.

So I would like to apologise now to anyone whose opinion I’ve belittled because they are sans-baby. The thing is – PREGNANCY and BABIES do change you. And you can tell yourself that you’re not going to let this baby change anything (or much) but it absolutely changes your world. I’m in the boxing ring with myself constantly over this.

SMACK – take that you selfish, single girl who wants to stay out til 2am dancing.
PUNCH – well how about that you boring stay-at-home “my baby is so much more important” wiggles watcher. 
WHACK – how ‘bout this then you shallow, “Oh my bag doesn’t match my outfit” career focussed flibberty-gibbit.
LEFT HOOK – you ain’t seen nothin’ yet you mess-maker-every-where-you-go, “I’m so over that part of my life” pumpkin-patch purchaser.

It’s true. I miss my old life all the time. I even cried for a while after my baby was born becuase I missed it so much. But as I’m sure you’ve heard A MILLION mothers and mothers-to-be say… I wouldn’t have it any other way!  And maybe that’s why we can be smug. Because our lives have changed and we have given up on so many FUN, INTERESTING and RELEVANT  aspects of life – yet we are still deeply satisfied and gratified. Is it that satisfaction that makes us pompous and smug?

I’m thinking yes. And I know I’m right when I say that. You know, I must be!

I have a baby!

I CAN read your poker face Lady Gaga, and it’s saying… “*#@!%*~#$&*”

So I just finished watching Lady Gaga’s uncensored version of Telephone, featuring Beyonce. It was crude, vulgar, and very strange – usually everything I dislike. But it was BRILLIANT! I LOVED it.

Generally I don’t like Lady Gaga for all those former reasons. She’s sick and wrong. She’s… well let’s use the words of Frank Sinatra…. The Lady is a Tramp.

Look, here’s the thing with Lady Gaga. Her songs are friggin’ genius. Everything a song should be. And the clip for Telephone? Yes like I said it’s sick and wrong, but kind of clever and so entertaining. And somehow Gaga has managed to promote the movies Kill Bill, Pulp Fiction and Thelma & Louise…. Actually now that I think of it, she must’ve watched the entire first and second season of the Aussie Drama PRISONER. But anyway more on that clip soon.

Since her inception into popular culture with a very positive review from celebrity blogger Perez Hilton (who is so delusional he holds himself responsible for her fame, and refers to her still as wifey), she has taken over the charts with her music, the media with her bizarre outfits (remember her Kermit the frog coat?) and has taken over Britney as the Princess of Pop. (Apparently, but if you ask me the jury’s still out on that one).

Not only is Lady Gaga a master at manipulating media, she causes a storm in her very own teacup everywhere she goes. Because she likes to carry it around with her… literally – her tea cup. You know, to keep her grounded. I know a nice cup of tea always makes me feel at one with normalcy…??? And I’ve been trying so hard to fight this urge to like her. Not only because she calls her fans ‘monsters’, but also because I don’t want to like someone who got ridiculously famous overnight by being ridiculous.

Ooh but she is talented. And now she is causing more controversy – this time with her live shows. Sydney’s Daily Telegraph – (News Limited naturally, you wouldn’t catch Fairfax bothering with this piece) reported the following last Friday.

BLOOD, sex, gore, eating disorders and so much more – all in a day’s work for singer Lady Gaga.

But when her Australian tour kicked off this week, using elements of bulimia, binge drinking and expletives as props, the chaperoning parents in the audience were not dancing to the same beat as other fans. They are asking why no Australian concert is obliged to carry a classification to warn them, say, that a woman in a G-string might ask a kid to “get their c. . . out”?

There has never been a body set up to regulate the material featured in live performances in this country or force them to disclose warnings. In her Monster Ball show, Gaga takes the audience into a gothic Wizard Of Oz land, where a video of a model making herself vomit onto Gaga is shown on a film loop.

“This is a place where you can be free. A place where all the freaks are outside and I locked the f. . .ing door,” Gaga said during her show.

Linda Fitzsimmons took her nine-year-old daughter Jessica to the debut show on Wednesday and said that she was “shocked and surprised” by it. “I couldn’t believe it. (Jessica) likes her songs and I’m OK with her listening to them. There’s no swearing in them and she’s too young to understand the hidden meaning,” she said. “But if I tried to take her to an MA 15+ movie someone would stop me at the counter. Why not with concerts?”

Promoter Michael Coppel said it is almost impossible to classify a concert and the responsibility lies with the parent. “It’s hard to rate a show. What someone might see as risque differs from person to person,” he said.

The Classification Review Board said it was not their area to comment on. Family First Senator Steve Fielding similarly refused to weigh in on the debate. 

Coppel said he doubted that Australian tours would ever carry classifications, because most promoters do not see the show before they book it.

Funnily enough, the website for News Limited conducted a poll and here are the results…

Should we have a ratings system for live concerts?
• Yes 65.62% (313 votes)
• No 34.38% (164 votes)

Okay, so only 477 people voted, but still, that’s 313 people that think YES, concerts should be censored. Are they stupid?

So I’ll start with the LOGICAL argument for this, and (for now) leave my personal opinion out of it.

So, you have a promoter, who has decided to give say, Black Eyed Peas a PG rating because not only do some of their songs contain low level profanities, but we all know what Fergie was on about when she sang,

What you gon’ do with all that junk? All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk, Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon’ do with all that ass? All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream. Make you scream, make you scream.

Even if all the nine year olds girls that sing along, don’t.

So the promoter has to get the Black Eyed Peas to sign an agreement that they will not DO or SAY anything that would lift that rating from a PG to an M15+. Riiiiight. I can see Will-i-Am agreeing to that. It’s a LIVE SHOW. Um, sorry, but I thought touring and being a rock or pop star automatically meant you have to drop the F bomb on stage. Even the Veronicas and Kylie Minogue say it up there. And the crowd always cheer so loud when they do. Not sure why, perhaps I can analyse that another day…..

It just would NEVER happen because no artist wants to compromise their artistic integrity by being told what to do, how to act, what to say or even how they’re allowed to dance. We all remember Madonna’s solo number for Like A Virgin back in 1990 for her Blonde Ambition tour. Sometimes the dance moves are more explicit than any swear words.

And – hello? Are these parents NOT watching Video Hits? Just check out the film clip, and then decide if you think a live show would be suitable for your nine year old. Lady Gaga’s film clips are not suitable for children. So why would a live show? (Stupid much?)

And why are parents once again putting the responsibility onto someone else to monitor what their children are exposed to. YOU’RE the parent… YOU work it out!!! Grrr. If you think I’m being a bit harsh on the 313 people that voted yes…. How about this. When you buy a CD, check out the lyrics, and then the pictures that the artist includes of themselves. Look at how they pose for the camera and let THAT be your rating system. Here’s an example.


Not that I’m saying Jess’s concert is necessarily suitable either. I mean I’m sure it would be tame in comparison, but she is 20 year old woman who wants to sing about what she’s experiencing in life… boys, sex, partying, drinking…

And now, true to her provocative ways, Lady Gaga is making headlines for swearing like she’s the first one to ever do it up there. Trail blazer she may well be, but sorry, Gaga isn’t doing anything unusual here. Parents who take their nine year old daughters to a concert like that? THEY are unusual. Pop stars haven’t changed. Society has.

And so – I say leave Gaga alone for her profanity. Leave her to concentrate on more important things. Like transgender sexuality. Like I said, I really thought I disliked Gaga but now, after watching that film clip? Well if I liked that then I must like her music? And if it was her psyche that dreamt up such an entertaining film clip, then I must like her psyche too? Which means… I like her. I am a monster.

Here is the link for the film clip. So good. (Tried to put it actually IN the blog but it was taking FOREVER) Probably not one to play at work. Unless you work at an Institution for Women or a Trannie bar.


Damn you Gaga! Damn you to ****** hell!

Shock, horror! Shiloh had a haircut!

This just makes me mad!
Let the poor thing have short hair or be a tomboy if she wants. Move on – she’s 3 years old!

Magazines reduce their street cred even more when they make this crap front page. Shiloh is this week’s target. Next week it’ll be back to Suri Cruise, and why her wearing ballroom dancing shoes with a little heel is so wrong and so damaging. Contradictory… I know.

Life & Style even quoted a parenting “expert” with this rubbish…

“Little girls have never been women before,” says Glenn Stanton, director of Family Formation Studies at the conservative organization Focus on the Family. “They need help, they need guidance of what that looks like. It’s important to teach our children that gender distinction is very healthy.”

Blah Blah Blah Blah….
Geez, and we wonder why so many girls feel inadequate and feel they need to conform?

UNLESS… She asked for a trim. If she asked for a trim, and the hairdresser did that. Well yes, this haircut is quite a cause for concern. I’ve been there. I know.