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Welcome to Part 2 of my “I have no idea how may part” series on racism.  I know you are concerned about being a racist, and I am here to say that you are not racist.  No, seriously, you’re not racist.  However, you are biased.  As a matter of fact, we are all biased.  Whew, now don’t you feel better?  Well, you shouldn’t, because being biased can be just as damaging and in many ways, worse than being racist.

The problem with being biased is that it is pervasive and infects literally everything that we say and do.  The worse part is, we generally are not aware of our biases.  Actually, the worse, worse part is that we often don’t care about our biases and therefore make zero actions to improve our biases.  If you are reading this and thinking, I have no idea what you are talking about, then let me explain.  I mean, that’s why I am here.

It’s midnight, and you just left a friend’s house after a marathon game of Parcheesi (Google it).  You are walking down the street towards your car and you see three white kids sitting on the hood of your car.  They are looking at their phones and clearly playing Pokémon Go.  What do you do?  I am sure there are a variety of answers to this question, but I am sure most of you would respond in some form of “get them off my car and go home”.  If it were me, I would approach the car, and say, “Hey guys, this is my car.  You mind?”  And then I foresee that they would get off my car, I would get in, and drive home.  Simple.

Alternative:  It’s midnight, and you just left a friend’s house after a marathon game of Parcheesi (did you Google it yet?).  You are walking down the street towards your car and you see three black kids sitting on the hood of your car.  They are talking, loudly, and look like they just got done playing basketball.  You see that one of the kids has a basketball in his hands.  What do you do?

Before I continue, do me a favor.  Take a moment to think about the image of the two scenarios above.  How are they different?  How are they the same?  What is your reaction to the two scenarios above?

Here is my first honest truth of the blog; it never entered my head to write the two scenarios of BOTH sets of kids playing Pokémon Go.  I just can’t see three black kids playing Pokémon Go at midnight.  That’s my bias.  What’s yours?  In your mental image of the two scenarios, were both sets of kids the same age?  I bet they weren’t.  I bet the white kids were younger, maybe even in junior high.  I know, you think I biased you by making them playing Pokémon Go, but I also said it was midnight.  If young kids can play Pokémon Go at midnight, why can’t young kids play basketball at midnight?  What were the kids wearing?  Any wife beater t-shirts (Google it) in either scenario?  Or Nike gear?  Plaid shirts?  Welcome to the Brett Bias Show.  And finally, what about your reaction to the two scenarios?  Are you responding to both situations the same?  Here is my reaction, and it’s not the same:  “Hey fellas.  How’s it going?  Who won the game?  Cool.  I gotta run, you can come, but the ride might be bumpy from the hood of my car.  Thanks guys.”  I have no need to talk to the white kids, but I very much want to talk to the black kids.  It’s my bias.  It’s like I want to defuse a situation.  Or maybe I want to make sure the black kids know that I have nothing against them.  Or maybe I have a stronger desire to make a connection with the black kids.  I think any of the above reasons may be true, but it proves one thing, I have a bias in my reaction to the two scenarios.  What is your bias?

I know you might think this is silly, but I would guess that in many of your scenarios, your reaction to the black kids was more negative, more aggressive, or had more fear in its response.  At minimum, your image of the two scenarios was different based on your inherent bias.  What does this mean?  Well, it means that if you are a black kid, you have been reacted to in a certain way for most of your life.  And depending on how negative those reactions were will determine your attitude about life and how others perceive you.  I’m 45 years old and have a PhD, and my life experiences have shaped an image of myself that is not worthy of a PhD.  I attempt to shake it often, but it reveals itself more often than you would realize.

For example, several weeks ago, my wife, son and I went house hunting with our realtor.  While in a house, I heard a noise upstairs.  I was convinced that someone was in the house.  I assumed it was one of the owners that had not left the house before our arrival.  I asked our white female realtor to go upstairs to investigate.  I was not scared.  I was not trying to push her towards an intruder.  I was concerned that if whoever was upstairs ran into me, a big black man, the reaction would not be good.  It turned out to be the daughter of the owners who got her times wrong on the visit.  I stand by my decision of sending the realtor.  Let’s pretend our group had males and females, blacks and whites.  Here is the order I would have selected to go up those stairs, from least likely to most likely to scare the bejeesus of whoever was up there.  1.  Little white girl  2. Little black boy (because black boys are cute). 3 Little white boy 4. Little black girl  5. Adult white female. 6. Adult black female 7. Adult white male 8. Adult black male.  Do you agree with my order?  It’s based on bias and bias is real.  Bias determines whether you are more likely to call me Dr. Woods (which is my appropriate designation), whether or not I’m more likely to be pulled over by a policeman, or if you will be surprised when you find out what I do for a living.  Do you have any idea of what it feels like to be considered “lesser” by so many people on a regular basis for over 40 years?  Bias is a hell of a drug.

I was going to end it here, but than I had lunch with a friend.  She told me this story of how she has been grabbed by men so many times in her life that she has lost count.  It became so regular in her life, that if it happened during the day, when she got home, she saw no need to tell her husband.  This was not the first time I heard a story like this from a female.  Can you imagine, living your life in such a way that people grabbing you was so common place that you internalize it as normal?  You see, biases are so common place, that they make people believe things that they should never believe.  If you are reading this and you still don’t get it, then here is my advice:  Examine your actions and try to identify your own behaviors that might be adjusted because of who you are interacting with, males, females, black or white.  If that doesn’t help, ask your wife, or friend what biases you have, because they WILL know.


Insert bad transition here …

I dropped my kids off at daycare this morning.  The two high school? college? kids that were in “charge” could not have had a more disinterested look on their faces if they tried.  If they were in a corner smoking cigarettes, I would not have been surprised.  If there was an electric fence around the perimeter, I would not have been surprised.  They didn’t even try to look engaged upon my arrival.  Sheesh!  Oh well, my kids are safe and out of my hair.  Yeah, I’m disgusted with my self too.  Maybe I’ll catch Pikachu today.  That’ll make me feel better.  Ugh!

 

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So, my son was reading a book online about winter activities.  Keep in mind, we are not those kind of parents.  We don’t have a family where the son is reading a book online and the daughter is in her room playing with dolls.  Of course, at this time, that was exactly what was happening.  Even a blind squirrel finds a nut.  Anyhoo, my son reads a book online, then listens to the program narrator read the book, and then takes a quiz on the book.  I know.  Kind of nerdy, right?  He loves it!  He gets points for books read and quizzes correctly answered.  It is called Raz Kids.  I highly recommend it.  Besides, if you met my son, you would know, he is anything but a nerd, not that there is anything wrong with that.

In the book, the narrator kept referring to building a snow person.  A snow person?  You mean building a snowman?  I am not exactly anti political correctness, but sometimes I think we go a little overboard with being politically correct.  Are people truly offended by the term, snowman?  Are little girls not growing up to their full potential because of the lack of snowwomen examples in their lives?  Give me a freakin’ break!

I believe in gender issues.  I will be the first person to tell you that images on TV and movies are ridiculous.  I hate the fact that any girl clothing I buy for my daughter is pink.  My daughter doesn’t like pink, and that should be OK.  I think it is disappointing that the only images of women on TV are thin blonde, overly ethnic aggressive, or too jolly fat women.  The reality is that people like female stereotypes.  If you don’t believe me, look at the money made by movies in which women are not played as stereotypes, i.e., Princess and the Frog (see previous blog on this subject).  My three-year-old daughter wanted a doll house for Christmas.  The doll house options made me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit.  You know what I got her?  Scratch that.  You know what Santa brought to our house?  My daughter received a Doc McStuffins Clinic.

Best dollhouse EVER!

Best dollhouse EVER!

It looks just like a house, but it is really a doctor’s house with a female black doctor.  You can’t beat that!  My point is that I believe in gender equality, but I refuse to support the term, snow person.  Why?  Because of the simple fact that all snow beings are male.  How do I know?  Snow balls. I rest my case.

 

 

 

 

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Can you imagine if we take this to the next level?  Hey everyone, let’s go outside and have a snow genitals fight!  Talk about a sign of the apocalypse.  I’m just sayin’ …

Then again, maybe they are gender neutral.  Anatomically correct?

Then again, maybe they are gender neutral. Anatomically correct?  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!

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So, about a year ago I wrote a blog called the Power of Words.  In that blog I discussed how words can be offensive to some and not to others.  Here is an excerpt from that blog:

“The response is also important in the power of words.  If I make a joke, or use a word that I do not think is offensive, but you are offended/hurt, does it really matter if I think you over-reacted?  This is a line you will have to draw for yourself, but for me it matters, especially for those I care about.  It is rarely my intention to offend, so yes, I think it matters a lot.  But, if you are easily offended, I would caution you to not GIVE power to so many things.  It is not a good life to lead.”

As a result of comments received on my previous blog “Mindreading 101”  I am inspired to write this blog.  It is interesting, because I am often surprised what elicits comments to my blogs.  Most people who comment on my blogs do so directly.  In other words, they do not use the comment box on the blog, but will post to me directly.  Overall comments are positive, but every so often, I get comments from readers that clearly did not like my blog.

The first blog to receive a negative comment was my blog where I discussed naked old dudes in the gym.  The negative response I received on that blog was shocking.  Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought a discussion of naked fat old dudes at the Y would be offensive to anyone.  I was simply relaying an experience that I have on a regular basis at the gym.  An experience that I find humorous, but clearly not everyone thought it was funny.

The second blog to receive a surprising number of negative comments was my blog on how I believed it was wrong to poop in public.  As a matter of fact, this person in response to my blog called me a “moron”.  I was shocked!  I of course responded to his comment, and then read their blog, on … you guessed it, pooping and farting.  The blog is called, He Shat She Shat and I actually recommend it.  The positive thing that came out of this altercation, is that we actually discussed the disagreement in a civil manner, and although I still disagree with pooping in public, I would have a beer or coffee with this person anytime.  I would never share a bathroom with them, but coffee, yes.  The bottom line is that disagreements are healthy, and should never be shied away from.  It is how we grow as human beings.

The latest blog to receive negative comments was Mindreading 101.  Again, I was shocked.  I think I was shocked because in that blog (and I had to read it again to remember what I said) I did not say anything new or anything beyond what you would see or hear in a sitcom or comedy show.  As a matter of fact, one commenter compared it to race stereotypes, which I do not agree with, but you can read their commentary for yourself and decide.  The reality is that we all have our buttons.  As I tried to point out in the first Power of Words, and I reiterate here, is that we often find things offensive that are most personal to ourselves.  I will give you an example:  A person I know has a family member with severe autism.  This person used to listen and love the comedy of Carlos Mencia.  If you have never heard Carlos Mencia, I will tell you that this comedian has a lot of jokes about races.  Many of the jokes are quite offensive.  Now my friend, who is smart, a wonderful person, and is in my opinion NOT a racist, had no problem with the race jokes, but did have a problem with a joke told about an autistic person.  My friend now no longer listens to Carlos Mencia.  Why didn’t my friend stop listening to Mencia after the race jokes?  Simple, the race jokes were not a personal issue to them, autism was.

Mindreading 101 was never meant to be taken seriously.  Like most of my blogs, they are for entertainment purposes only.  It is a common thing that we do, play on stereotypes.  It is probably not a good thing, but it is common.  Chick flicks rarely paint men in positive lights.  And this brings me to a very SERIOUS point about selective offense.  I think we all have to be careful to what we openly complain or show uproar about.  I would bet every dime in my bank account, that if I had written the second blog (Mindreading 251 which is about men being stupid: Coming Soon)  first, I would not have received a single negative comment about making fun of men.  My point is this:  Pointing out the wrong in writing, or speech, or behavior as offensive is a good thing, and I truly appreciate it.  But don’t be selective, and overlook other offenses, such as race, sexual preference, religion, or political viewpoints.  Wouldn’t that be the definition of hypocrisy?  To be offended by a gender stereotype, but not be offended when someone calls a Democrat a Godless tree hugger or a Republican a racist.  Or even learning about the Indian race from the TV show, Outsourced on NBC.  Something to think about.

As side note, what does it mean for society when we can no longer laugh at ourselves?  Are we becoming too serious as society where everything must be politically correct and have zero offense to all people?  I don’t have the answer to these questions, but I do think about it a lot.

So, where does that leave us?  For me, it is a formal apology to all my readers that were offended by my last or any blog that I have written, maybe this one.  I am sorry.  As I stated before, I care about my readers, and have no desire to offend you.  And I thank you for commenting and speaking to me openly and honestly.  I can’t promise that you will never be offended again, but I can promise, I will continue to try to be sensitive to my audience.  Nonetheless, I am glad you are reading, I am glad you are thinking, and I hope you are growing.

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This blog was supposed to be Mindreading 251, but based on reading the latest comments, I felt the need to write this one.  So stay tuned for the next gender-biased blog.  Hopefully it will stir up laughter rather than anger, but you never know.  I will say this, I can’t wait until I am an old retired guy on the golf course.  Because if the guys I play with (most over 70) at my home course are any indication, I have a care-free, say-whatever-the-hell-I-feel-like life in store for me.  Awesome!  I’m just sayin …

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So, I am not an overly emotional person.   Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not a robot, but I just don’t find most emotions all that useful.  The biggest issue I have with them is that they rarely solve problems.  If emotions did solve anything I think I would be in favor of them, but 9 times out of 10 it’s just noise.  Emotions are also rarely planned out.  In other words people generally don’t plan to be angry, or schedule a time to cry, it just comes out, usually uncontrollably.   What’s up with that?  What this means is that most emotions are irrational and without control.  What areas of ones life is it acceptable to be irrational and out of control?  No one would recommend this as a proper way to live, yet millions of people claim that it is OK to be emotional.  They will make statements like, “Sorry I hit your headlights with a bat, but it’s OK, because I am just an emotional person.”

I have written several blogs that discuss things that are culturally acceptable, but have no support in logic or reason.  Emotions, add it to the list.  (Warning: Sexist comment imminent)

Wait for it …

The emotional “problem” is never more evident than in women.  There I said it.  “If momma’s not happy, then nobody is happy.”  Why is this acceptable?  I have an idea, if mommy ain’t happy, how about momma get happy, or if momma ain’t happy, momma goes somewhere and comes back when she is happy, or better yet, if momma ain’t happy, then momma ain’t happy and don’t put that $#*! on everyone else.  Are there emotional men?  Of course there are, but like most stereotypes they are based on number of experiences.  If I told you that there was a couple talking in the park and one of them was crying uncontrollably, but did not tell you who was crying, based on experience who would you guess was doing the crying?  And 9 times out of 10 you’d be right.

My least favorite emotion is anger.  When was the last time you got angry and it made the problem go away, or made you feel better.  Anger almost always makes the person who is angry feel worse as well as the person they are angry with, it is the one emotion that has the most collateral damage.  I also find that most people get angry at things that do not warrant anger.  For example, the plane is late (this is especially true in winter when wings need to be de-iced, or there is a blizzard.  Really?  Are you so concerned about taking off that you are willing to risk death?  Trust me, pay attention, EVERY time you are on a plane that is delayed due to weather, at least one person will complain… guaranteed.  Here are a list of things that I believe it is OK to be angry at:

  1. War
  2. Child abuse (any  negative action toward children as far as I am concerned)
  3. Injustice, including obvious human rights violations (this does not include political rights, such as voting, while sad, not warranted of anger)
  4. Animal and/or nature cruelty
  5. Freedom Violations – this is different from human rights as it includes any situation in which a person is forced to do something that causes harm in which they had no possible recourse to do the contrary
  6. Hugh Jackman (Scrubs reference)

Obviously the above list may not be complete, but I hope you get my point.  I see people get angry at the dumbest things, most of which is inconsequential, irrelevant, and completely a waste of time and energy.  I just wish emotions helped, at least the negative ones.  Obviously laughing, smiling, joy, ecstasy (not the drug) are awesome emotions, but even they can be a problem if not kept under control.  Have you ever met someone who was happy ALL the time.  Yeah, annoying right?  Apple pie is great, at least my mom’s apple pie is great, but apple pie for every meal and every day is not healthy.

Unfortunately we are not Vulcans, we are humans.  As humans we are emotional beings.  At the end of the day, at least for me, it is about control.  Are you in control of your emotions or are they in control of you?  If every time you get emotional, you expect everyone to just understand, then that is a YOU problem.  No one should expect others to bend to their will or change so that you can be happy.  The problem with the saying “If momma ain’t happy then no one is happy” is that it places the burden of solution on everyone, but the person who is not happy.  This brings me to my final point.  At some point we have been taught that when we are not doing well, than it is someone else’s responsibility to fix it.  This is never more evident than in relationships.  Here is a tip for happy and healthy relationships:  Love the other person and take care of your own emotional crap.  Do NOT require the other person to make you happy.  Will they make you happy?  Of course they will, at least I hope so, but as soon as you get mad at them for not fulfilling their supposed responsibility of making you happy, it is the beginning to the end.

One of my most hated phrases is, “You make me angry!”  Here is a fact of life, no one makes you angry.  Anger is choice that you have made as a response to a particular situation.  I am not saying ignore your partner’s problems, but I am saying do not take responsibility for them, unless they are the direct result of something that you did, i.e., left the seat up (although I am not sure why this is such a big deal.  Look. Lower. Sit.  How hard is that?  But I digress).  For example, listening to your partner’s problems is important. 

My sister sent me a chapter from a book called, The Twelve Laws of Life.  The chapter was called “You cannot motivate anyone else.”  The title of the chapter alone made me want to read it.  I will most likely get the rest of the book, because of what I have read so far.  In this chapter, the author writes “In fact, listening alone may be enough to encourage the person to act!”  I love this!  Yes, maybe your partner needs to take action, but you can not force them to.  You can however, encourage and provide an environment that supports change.  Granted, I feel I may be straying from the original topic, so I will end with this:  Emotion is good, but only in control, and although your partner may be emotional, you can’t change them, nor can you “fix” them.  Let their $#*! be their #*!, and your be yours.

Live long and prosper.

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My last blog was on politics.  I hope to rarely if ever write on politics again.  But I ended that blog with a commentary on beauty and how it seems to prevent you from having bad jobs.  My brother pointed out, (in my opinion, rightfully), that beautiful people also are never seen at the bus stop.  Which makes me beg the question: Does poverty reduce beauty? Or are the non-beautiful more likely to be poor?  Or both?  All I know is that if you are a 10, you ain’t ridin’ the bus.  I’m just sayin …

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So, I have decided that I love old dudes.  I don’t love naked old dudes (see Old, Fat and NUDE), but I do love old dudes.

It all started with a golf course.  I took golf lessons from a guy from a pro at a local 9-hole golf course about two years ago.  It is about 10 minutes from my house.  I enjoyed taking lessons from this guy so much, whenever I get a chance to play golf, I play at his course.  I have played there so much over the past two years that I am officially a regular.  When I enter the pro shop, I am greeted with a “Hey Brett, how is the new little girl?  Sleeping at night?”  As a matter of fact, before Violet was born, for two to three weeks I could not set foot on the course without someone driving their golf cart from another hole after seeing me from a distance (I am not difficult to spot from a distance on a golf course.  It’s like a Where’s Waldo for the blind.) just to ask if my daughter was born yet.  I never pay full price, and sometimes the pro will play a round with me just for fun and I get a free cart.  I am thinking about having my 40th birthday at this course.  I asked the manager about it, and he gave me my favorite line “It is normally 3-4 hundred bucks, but for you, 250.”

Is there a better sentence than one that ends in “…for you, we can do better.”  I love the hook up.  The bottom line is that I love special attention.  The cool thing is, I never ask for it.  If you know me, you know I would never walk into a place and ask everyone to be friends with me, but it just happens.  Interestingly, it happens for my son, Brett Jr. as well.  He hates talking to strangers, but everyone loves him.  It must be a gene.

I digress.  Now, prior to Violet being born, I made one promise to myself: To play as much golf as possible before her arrival.  Because I play on weekdays and usually early mornings, I played golf with a lot of old dudes.  Their average age is probably around 70.  I was even invited to play in their senior league on Wednesday mornings.  I could not commit every Wednesday, but on the days that I showed up, they placed me on a team that needed a player and I was welcomed with open, wrinkly arms.

As a result of my summer experiences and as recent as last week playing with an 80-year-old man, I have come to learn a few things about older men; not only do I love them, but old dudes don’t give a shit.

I am officially looking forward to turning 40 next year and beyond.  Oh to be as relaxed as an 80-year-old on a golf course.  Now that is something to wish for.  They just don’t care.  They are happy to be alive and happy to be playing golf.  They tell great stories and tell the truth about life in the most enjoyable way.  There is no doubt in my mind that I have played with some guys that used to be rich business men, CEOs, criminals, partially and/or fully racists, veterans, and in general crazy dudes when they were younger, but they have drunk the chill Kool-Aid and no longer give a care.  I love ‘em.

What is my favorite thing about them? They love to bad mouth women.  I don’t mean bad names, or degrading words, but the typical stereotypes of men versus women stories are classic.  I am not condoning bad mouthing women, but it is the freedom that they all share about their conversations.  It has made me come to one simple conclusion:  With freedom comes a cost.  You have got to be done with sex.  If you had no desire to ever have sex again, what thoughts in your head would you allow to see the light of day?  Think about it.  I love my wife, and I have a healthy fear of her on a regular basis, but I would never, ever let every thought that crosses my mind out of my head.  I am not stupid.  But what if I was done F#@king?  That’s right, freedom.  Welcome to the world of the old dude.  Say whatever the hell you want plus golf.  It doesn’t get any better than that.  Old age here I come.

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One night I went to the fridge for milk and we were dangerously low.  We did have breast milk though.  Would it have been wrong?  I was also thinking, if I created a drink, like rum, whiskey and breast milk, who would drink it?  You know it would be a popular drink somewhere on this planet.  A weird twisted part of the planet, but it would be popular.  I’m just sayin …

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So, if you are a regular reader of my blog you know that we just had a daughter.  My wife had a very long arduous pregnancy and we are so glad that it is over.  Besides the end of pregnancy we have our wonderful new daughter, Violet.  Violet is currently sleeping next to me as I type this, and hopefully she will let me finish it before the night is done.  Her mom is sleeping and getting some needed rest.  If you still haven’t read the detailed adventure of my daughter’s birth, I encourage you to do so (https://sincejuniorhigh.wordpress.com/2010/08/07/pregnant-no-mo/).

I love this picture of Violet. I think she has beautiful eyes.

While they were still in the hospital, recovering, my oldest son, Brett asked if we could celebrate the arrival of Violet.  I told him that is an awesome idea.  We bought flowers, cupcakes, and Violet had presents for the boys.  We decided to have a REAL birthday party.  A party to celebrate the birth of Violet.

I don’t know if other people throw birthday parties at someone’s birth, but they should.  I think this should become the cultural norm.  Our two boys open up presents.  Brett also opened an envelope containing ten dollars for winning the bet of when Violet would actually be born.  We all sang happy birthday and had a great time eating cupcakes.  And instead of the birthday girl getting gifts, since she is technically zero, her brothers get gifts from her.
Isaac receives a Batman and Sandman from his new sister.

It is kind of like a reverse birthday, but I think it is more of a birthday than a traditional one because someone was actually born.  It was very cool.

With the arrival of my daughter I am also struck by how soon personality seems to be evident.  She is already clearly different from her two brothers, and I know it is early, but I am certain that she is strong.  Another strong-willed person in our family may make the teenage years unbearable.  It will be very important to practice my good guy routine.  You know, me and her versus mommy.  That sounds right.  But it is got me thinking, how much of who we are is set at day one?
This is an old argument, right?  Nature versus nurture?  However, if you have kids, I am sure you will agree with me, personality began to show itself super early, maybe as early as day one.  It is also no surprise to me that girls are different from boys, something I plan on posting about in the future.  But for now, I will just say that we treat girls different from the get go.  For example, literally 95% of my daughter’s clothing is pink.  Who made this choice?  Why does a girl have to wear pink?  I am sick of pink already and she is only three days old.  I love my boys, but my daughter already gets more attention then they ever got.  Say what you want about gender issues, but we begin the process of differentiation as soon as we can.  I promise you this, if I buy clothes for my daughter, it will NOT be pink.
Well, I better go, she is beginning to stir.  I will leave you with this.  I love my daughter, but if you are reading this and you are considering having three or more kids, even a little thought that might be in your brain, believe me when I say this — “DON’T DO IT! IT’S TOO MANY KIDS!!!”  We no longer have one-on-one, but we are playing zone.  It’s crazy, but I love her.
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Every person that sees me has asked about the birth.  I’m at least glad she is born so I no longer get, “Is the baby here yet?”  But why are the details sooo important and why must we talk for five minutes about the birth?  I don’t know you and you want to know how long the labor was, how much she weighed, how long was she, did my wife tear during the birthing process.  OK, I made up the last one, (She did not by the way), but I am surprised at how much information people think they are entitled to when it comes to babies.  What’s up with that?  Oh and by the way, 7pm-3:13am, 8lbs and 11oz, 19.5 inches long.  You happy? I’m just sayin …

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