16 Oct

I admit it.  I believe in censorship. Free speech, blah blah blah… yes, I’m all for it; EXCEPT, apparently, in children’s books and movies.

I regularly find myself cringing during kid’s movies.  Lucas generally doesn’t have an interest in them, but every so often, I’ll try a new kid’s movie to see if it will hold his attention (thus far: only Winnie the Pooh has passed muster), and more often than not, I abandon ship within twenty minutes while grumbling under my breath about “nasty language,” or “inappropriate themes.”  I’m all of the sudden an old fuddy duddy.

I’m just as bad with books.  Even mild choices like “Oscar’s Rotten Birthday” — I find myself changing things like “I hate birthday cakes” to “I don’t like birthday cakes.” As I read the pages, I have visions of my overly precocious two year old shouting “I hate…” while we are out in public, and the vision includes me stuttering and stammering about “inappropriate kid’s books” or “it’s all Oscar the Grouch’s fault”  to people staring at us in awe.

Luke’s recent favorite book “What Baby Needs” details life with a new baby.  Written by the Dr. Sears folks, it has a slant towards attachment parenting — showing pictures of babywearing, co-sleeping, breast feeding and other relatively “crunchy, granola” parenting styles.  There is a full page dedicated to breast feeding with lots of positive language around baby getting milk from mommy’s breast.  I watch when Tim reads him that page and always giggle when he shoots me uncomfortable looks over Luke’s head as he says “breast” aloud to our toddler.  I giggle because I never read that sentence — editing as I read to say “baby gets milk from his mommy.”

It isn’t that I’m against him knowing proper labels for body parts.  I’m all for that… in a year or two.  For the same reason detailed above, I have visions of us out and about in the grocery store and Lucas shouting “that lady has big breasts” or “why that lady have no breasts” … those visions also include me melting into a puddle on the floor or trying to hide behind a display of canned vegetables.  Until he has better self control, I’m all for censorship.

But, clearly, he prefers Tim’s version of the book.  We were reading it last week and I skimmed over the parts that make me squirm, editing with a more mundane version of the source of baby’s milk.  We got to the next page and he stopped me saying, “wait mommy, you forgot breasts.  baby gets milk from breasts.  say it.”

Guess he likes Tim’s rendition more.


One Response to “Censor”

  1. Marjorie Seamans October 16, 2013 at 10:31 am #

    Censorship is a lost art Used properly it is a valuable tool. Enjoyed our meeting on Sunday. Grampy

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