I’d be one of the first to say that the New York Times has been hitting some nails smack on the head lately. Some articles have jumped into juicy topics highlighting real and honest challenges around parenting and, by extension, how we interact with each other that have prompted great conversation — something I maintain is taking its last gasps — and countless blog “here’s my take” posts.
Last weekend was no exception: read this meaty story called In Defense of Single Motherhood by Katie Roiphe. It’s an education for some — did you know that “53 percent of the babies born to women under 30 are born to unmarried mothers”? — and an affirmation for many, many others who are living this reality, not just reading about it. (I’m actually planning to write a post on single motherhood. On the lookout for a solo mama to interview.)
But, of course, every hit ain’t going to be a home run.
I read this story in Sunday’s paper and the only thing it prompted was an eye-roll. The piece tries to streeeeeeeetch and make a connection between parents — especially fathers — calling their kids “Buddy” and signs of a shift in parenting styles. Basically, calling your kid buddy may be “emblematic” of your desire to be pals with your child instead of the grown-up and the guide.
Maybe I’m giving it the “Get Outta Here With That” look because we call our son Buddy all the time. I also call him Peanut, BumBum, Sweet Potatuh, HoneyDoo, Dumpling — you get the idea. Buddy is just one on a long list. Are those nicknames saying something deeper about my parenting style? Please.
What say you? Do you call your kid Buddy? Do you think it says anything about your parenting style?