kavanaugh avoidance theory parenting
You know how sometimes you’ll meet an absolute abomination of an adult human being and you automatically check the Venn diagram of that person and your child, to see if there’s anything you need to eradicate from your child while there’s still time?
I’m not the only one who does this, right?
Welcome to “Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory” Parenting.
For example, my husband used to work with a guy who got it into his head that I love chain department stores because I used to work at Nordstrom. So every time he went on a work trip, he’d find a local branch of Macy’s or Lord & Taylor, photograph it with his cell phone, and then when we’d bump into each other he’d be like, “KATIE! I know how much you love shopping. Oh man, you’re gonna love this,” and then scroll through like 47 pictures of the fucking architectural details of a goddamn Macy’s in Wichita.
I know.
Fast-forward to about a month ago when my 4-year-old, Buster, told a lady at the store that his Mommy loves laundry.
I had this image of a 6-foot-tall, 35-year-old Buster cornering an interesting woman at a party and whipping out his phone to show her pics of Tide pods. “I know how much you love laundry, Celeste. Check that out. Eh? Eh? That’s the 64-pack. That’s new. I knew you’d get a kick out of that. So how’s your lint trap these days?”
I checked the Venn diagram of that Macy’s dork and my son, and I discovered a tiny speck of common ground: they focused on the most uninteresting part of my daily routine, and defined me around that one shitty little thing.
NOT TODAY, MALL ARCHITECTURE PHOTO SATAN. NOT TODAY.
So yeah, I told my 4-year-old with disproportionately intense eye contact:
“Actually, kiddo, I don’t love laundry. I do laundry because I love YOU, not because I love laundry. I love writing, hiking, buffalo cauliflower, and carrot cake.”
All parents do this - your kid does something that reminds you of someone awful and you come down, yes, okay, a little hard on your kid. You know what they say: The sins of the father’s annoying co-worker and all that.
I know I’m not the only parent out there whose parenting has taken a hard right this week:
I’m not parenting according to my values. I’m not leading my children toward the light with patience, curiosity, and love.
I am parenting with a single, murderously intense goal: to surgically remove any Kavanaughisms from my sons. I am dragging them away from the dark pit of Tobin’s house, muttering, “Aw hell no, not today motherfucker, not on my watch.”
These hearings have been horrifying to watch, as a mother of sons. And I think you know why.
NO, IT WASN’T BECAUSE I’M TERRIFIED OF MY KIDS BEING FALSELY ACCUSED OF ASSAULT, MARY.
These hearings don’t make the specter of false accusations any more real than they were a month ago, so don’t claim that watching a grown-ass man baby snivel in his tap water struck fear into your heart on behalf of your young sons.
No, these hearings are awful as a mother of boys because I WILL NOT RAISE THE NEXT BRETT KAVANAUGH. And because my sons are 4 and 6, I see A LOT OF BRETT KAVANAUGH IN MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW.
Helping Chicken into the car, I asked him, “Did you remember your rain coat?” And he responded, “Did you remember YOUR rain coat?”
Standard Values-Based Response:
If you decide not to bring your rain coat, you’ll be wet and uncomfortable on the rainy playground.
Is that your choice?
Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory Response:
Wow, so that is not an answer!
We are talking about your rain coat, not mine, pal.
It sounds like you don’t want me to check into this rain coat situation. I think you’re hiding something. I think we need an investigation of the rain coat issue before we can decide if you’re ready to go to school. What do you think about that? Do you think we should investigate the rain coat issue? Would you support an investigation of whether you have remembered your rain coat? Just answer the question. If you remembered your rain coat why wouldn’t you want me to check?
So help me God, Amy Klobuchar and I deserve some goddamn respect and answers to our reasonable fucking questions about RELEVANT FUCKING RAIN COATS.
Chicken wanted a granola bar. I told him he needed to wait until I was done getting dressed. He started whining.
Standard Values-Based Response:
I hear that you’re hungry but I am getting dressed.
You need to wait and we’re done discussing it.
Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory Response:
Oh WOW, I’m so fucking sorry that you have to wait a minute and twelve seconds before you get exactly what you want, O Prince of New England.
You’re so right: it’s not a matter of whether or not a granola bar is the best thing for you to have in your possession; the fact that you WANT IT and feel you SHOULD HAVE IT is enough to make my delay in delivering your fucking granola bar a GODDAMN CRIME FOR WHICH I SHOULD BE PUBLICLY SHAMED
GOD, IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU HAD TO WAIT A WEEK FOR A HEARING THAT YOU WANTED TO HAVE THE NEXT DAY. One word, bro: EGREGIOUS.
IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU THOUGHT THAT BECAUSE YOU SHOWED UP YOU SHOULD JUST BE GIVEN, WITH NO INQUIRY WHATSOEVER INTO YOUR FUCKING CHARACTER, A GIFT-WRAPPED POSITION AT THE ABSOLUTE PINNACLE OF YOUR PROFESSION AND A CASE OF YOUR FAVORITE BREW. Three words, bro: SO. FUCKING. RUDE.
ARE YOU FUCKING OKAY? THAT SOUNDS AWFUL.
Buster called Chicken a Poopy Butt. When Chicken freaked out, Buster looked up at me with enormous brown eyes and said, “But Mommy, I love poopy butts! I was saying, oh, what a cute Poopy Butt!”
Standard Values-Based Response:
There will be no name-calling of body parts or poop.
If you name-call again you’re going to have to take a break from the Hot Wheels.
Got it?
Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory Response:
BULL
FUCKING
SHIT
BRETT
sorry
BUSTER
Literally nobody on Earth believes that you meant Poopy Butt as a compliment, a clumsy way of showing your brother that he’s one of the gang. YOU CALLED HIM A SHIT-COVERED ASS WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.
I asked Buster if he finished his dinner and he said yes. A few minutes later I found half a sandwich under the table.
Standard Values-Based Response:
I don’t want you to throw food on the ground, and I want you to be truthful with me.
Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory Response:
ALL I HEAR WHEN YOU TALK IS LIES
WHY WOULD YOU EVEN LIE ABOUT A SANDWICH
LIKE
IT’S SO OBVIOUS
NO STOP CRYING
YOU DID THIS
NO YOU CAN’T HAVE DESSERT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME
WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME YOUR CALENDAR
LIKE, I’M HOLDING YOUR SANDWICH
THE JIG IS UP
GO TO BED
Buster wanted to jump on my back while I was picking up laundry from the floor. I told him no. He jumped on my back.
Standard Values-Based Response:
I said no, sweetheart.
Please go read a book until I’m done and then we can snuggle.
Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory Response:
GET OFF ME NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW
ANYTHING EXCEPT YES IS NO
I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO BECOME AN OCTOPUS BEAST
NOT TODAY MOTHERFUCKER
NOT ON MY WATCH
Hopefully it goes without saying that I didn’t actually scream “Not today motherfucker,” at my 4-year-old.
I wrote this post about how my parenting has been rooted in a place of panicked Kavanaugh Avoidance because it was both 100% true and a full-blown farce, as has become the American Way. I have thought ALL of these Kavanaugh Avoidance Theory statements while parenting my children for the last week or so. I have said maybe 2 of them. I’ll let you guess which 2.
Yes, I’m calling my children out on their sense of entitlement, but they’re 4 and 6 and it’s a fucking process. Yes, I’m enforcing absolute zero-tolerance for physical boundaries and respect, but they’re 4 and 6 and it’s a fucking process.
And hey, listen, these behaviors are exactly as normal in a young child as they are HORRIFYING to witness in a SCOTUS nominee. What if Brett Kavanaugh tried to snatch food out of my mouth, clapped to let me know that he was ready for me to wipe his ass when he was done taking a shit, and dropped broccoli into my fine red wine at dinner time? I like to think you’d spot some red flags from your potential next Supreme Court Justice there as well. Probably not though. Grassley looks like he drops broc in Merlot nonstop.
To all the parents out there, I hope you laughed and recognized yourself here. I hope that you’re able to give yourself a bigass high five for giving enough of a shit about your kids that you find the idea of raising the next Brett Kavanaugh totally goddamn unacceptable.
I also hope that you see yourself in this pic of an Egyptian goose that I found while searching “anxious animals.”
shout out to Simon’s Birding Blog for my new Patronus
xoxo
Katie
Thanks for valuing women’s voices and women’s work!