Skip to main content

Is My Pediatrician Sexist; Is Yours?

UPDATE: On our most recent trip for flu shots, my son picked a sticker of a princess from the tub of stickers they offer patients.  As he picked it up, the nurse says to him... "oh, you don't want that one... that one is for your sister."

I was dumbfounded and not looking for a confrontation, but honestly, why would you say that to a three-year-old?  Let him have his sticker!

That comes on the heels of what is below, which I previously posted:

The triplets were in for their three-year-old annual a couple weeks ago.  The great news is that the triplets are healthy and happy.  And no shots.  The kids actually did great.  They listened and acted politely and were helpful with the exam.

Our pediatrician actually said they have the listening skills of 6 year olds, so yeah us!

And then, toward the end of the exam our pediatrician went through what I assume is a scripted speech about "private parts" and inappropriate touches and what to do if they get lost.  Her advice: go to a Mom or other woman.

Really?

In fairness, we love our pediatrician; absolutely lover her, and I'm sure she meant well.  But this stuck in my craw.  My wife kinda just rolled her eyes at me, as she knows I sometimes get riled about, and go on and on about, some peculiarly angled stuff.

Again, we love our pediatrician.  And I'm not saying our pediatrician is sexist, but... is she sexist?

I'm the type of Dad who has never missed one of our well visits.  I take my kids all over the place.  I have changed more than my fair share of the 16,428 diapers we have poo'd and pee'd through  in the last three years.  I'm the sole caregiver for my kids 3 hours or so per day.  And that hardly makes me unique.  I'm far from alone. Dads are taking over the world of parenting.  So I can care for triplets for hours per day, but I'm a male and thus sufficient a danger that we should steer a lost child away from seeking my help?

I'm sure in your heart or head you hear some voice saying, "yeah, but child molesters."  If this story about women molesting boys at a juvenile detention facility doesn't change your mind this should: FBI stats show children are almost always molested by someone they know.  The chance of your lost child stumbling upon someone whose intent is to molest them is vanishing small.  On the order of "don't let your child outside the house to avoid getting flattened by a meteor" rare; or "don't vaccinate your child because autism/disease/needles/ick" rare.

Maybe my wife is correct and I'm over thinking this.  Maybe; but this entire "males molest kids" thinking disparages Dads and makes it harder for them to be good Daddies.

You know what that type of thinking gets us?  It gets us a world where a Dad can't take pictures with his kids without someone at the Department of Homeland Security showing up and asking the kids if they are OK.  It gets us a situation where a Dad buying underwear for his daughter gets harassed for being a pervert, where Dads are asked to leave playgrounds, and where music teachers are no longer allowed to properly position the fingers of children playing the piano.

Ok, so that last one just makes sense.  There is no good reason for a piano teacher to touch a child's fingers.  You what they call people who play the piano, right.  Pianist.  That is right, pianist.  If that isn't sick, I don't know what it is.  I mean, these people intentionally call themselves this.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Parenting As A Two-Edged Sword

A) The other day I took time out of my schedule to play dolls with my daughter.

B) The other day, I took time away from playing dolls with my daughter to cook dinner.

Which really happened? A, or B?

From a certain perspective, both are true. As Obi wan Kenobi warned:


What I told you was true… from a certain point of view
In the moment, I considered myself a heroic Dad. Here I was, valiantly cooking dinner for the kids and their Mom while also managing to get in some one-on-one time with one of the kids. And playing one of her favorite things, too boot. That is perspective A. 
But it occurred to me that from her perspective (B), what I was saying might not be true. 
Instead of a Dad demonstrating superpowers of multi-tasking, she might simply be seeing me as too busy to really give her my full attention. 
When I look back in 10 years I might well remember the hectic but great times when I played dolls with her while cooking.
And as a teen, she may well look back as at a Dad too consumed with…

I Really Should...

... write an ode to Yunnan jig tea. It's great, honestly.  Smooth and delightful with just the right amount of punchy flavor.  Not coffee, but nicely caffeinated.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, find some loose leaf Yunnan jig and brew away.  May I suggest something from www.adagio.com?

... creatively write more.  I have a few story ideas.  At least 3, including the one I've already written and desperately need to edit and round out.  But its such a ... chore.  I really like reading, and I don't mind writing.  I actually enjoy writing one-off stuff like I do here.  But putting together 75k-100k in a complete order that makes sense and completes a story arc?  Ugh. Its all ... so much.  Blame my years in journalism, where I write tons of one-off stuff where the narrative is kind of half written for

(Speaking of this blog and writing)

... post more here.  As with all things, I guess, time is hard to find, whilst being a poor excuse.

... think before I agree…

The Dark Months

The holidays are over.  It only seems like life is over.

There is a solid three month period where holidays of various degrees are hitting you one-two-three style.  You have Halloween, which takes some of the sting out of the cooling temperatures and the disappearance of summer.  You have Thanksgiving, with rare foods and the promise of Christmas. 

Then you have a month of prepping and joy for Christmas.  You are so busy, you hardly notice how cold it has gotten.  And this year it got pretty darn cold.  And then Christmas itself.  My wife and I take a week off between Christmas and New Years, so we have that. 

Its a period so full of life.  And then the aforementioned NYE - when the cold decided to take it up a notch.

With triplets, its a little like being shot out of a cannon and taking three months to land.

But when you land, you land firmly in what I call the Dark Months.

There are no more holidays.  Yes, I realize MLK and Presidents Day are in January and February, and yes, I know…