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Bitch?

Emily started this blog, and she gave me permission to tell the story.  She was hustling out the porch door for a sleepover with Samantha, and I caught hold of her backpack to slip in her toothbrush.  “No!  Mom, I will put it in!” she insisted, and while she did, I noticed a copy of Bitch Magazine  in there with her footie pajamas.  She looked at me, worried about my reaction.  (Worried, mostly, that I would tell her she couldn’t take it.)  Hmmmm . . . I asked her to sit down and give me a minute to think.  Inhale.  Exhale.  (There are mommy moments when I use my Lamaze breathing well past the due date.)  I looked over the Smitten Kitten advertisements and decided they were too subtle for her to understand.  (That is a topic for another blog.)  Then, I read quickly again through a few articles, to make sure they were not more explicit than I had remembered.  Then, while staring into space, trying to decide what her friend’s mom would think, my eyes focused on several copies of Vogue that she and Rachel had been cutting up for collaging.  Vogue has anorexic, bored, zombie-looking girl-women, often sprawled on the floor in clothes that are impractical for walking across the room.  (Why do I allow such trash in my house?)  Bitch offers bold, lively essays on ways that we are snipped and clipped in pop-culture.  Maybe Em and Samantha could use a bit of “Bitch”?  I permitted Em her contraband, and texted Samantha’s mom a heads-up. Read more