#StandWithPP

I-stand

I’m not here to get into a debate about life versus choice. My friends and family know my views on the subject of abortion and I have no interest getting into a relatively pointless internet argument with the pro-life movement. However, I will make my case to the internet because it helps illustrate the importance of this issue. There has been major debate in the U.S. lately about a potential decision to defund Planned Parenthood, and most of the debate has been surrounded and overwhelmed with rampant misogyny. There have been so-called “discussions” where men have done nothing but interrupt and talk over female PP representatives, and where people have blatantly ignored certain facts and statistics about PP because those facts did not suit their argument. I’m here because I’m fucking angry. And to paraphrase one of my favourite professors, I’m now going to offer a robust defence of Planned Parenthood.

Here are some facts about Planned Parenthood:

  1. Planned Parenthood does not solely offer safe abortions.
  2. Planned Parenthood also offers: anonymous STI/STD testing, Mental Health Services, Immunization, Nutritional Services, and help finding employment and housing opportunities.
  3. They also offer birth control and contraception at a reduced rate. As it is – in America anyway – if you do not have access to insurance you pay full price for birth control – and Men of the world, female contraception is expensive as fuck. (Sexism in men vs. women’s contraception options Exhibit A: Box of condoms = $10 CAN. One month Birth Control Pill prescription = $15 – $50 CAN).
  4. The mission statement of Planned Parenthood: “We are a pro-choice community health centre that advances and advocates for the sexual health, health, and well being of youth.”
  5. Their principles and values include but are not limited to: “Providing accurate and understandable information empowers individuals to make informed choices” and “Individuals have the right to control their lives and to make informed choices regarding their sexuality and reproduction.”
  6. Planned Parenthood also offers SAFE abortions.

First thing’s first, everything else aside, etcetera etcetera, taking away women’s opportunity to have a safe and healthy abortion will not stop the practice of abortion. It will only serve to make abortions more dangerous. It amazes me that people haven’t figured that out yet. I think almost every man and woman on earth knows a woman who has had a pregnancy scare. I’ve heard stories from women who drove or flew to Mexico, before abortions were practiced safely, to abort their unwanted pregnancy. Judy Garland, America’s Sweetheart, Dorothy Gale, the Perpetual Little Girl, had a back-alley abortion at the age of nineteen years. It’s never been as uncommon a thing as most of the Republican Male population of America might think.

Hannah Goff says something great and concise about bodily autonomy and abortion:

There is a concept called body autonomy. It’s generally considered a human right. Bodily autonomy means a person has control over who or what uses their body, for what, and for how long. It’s why you can’t be forced to donate blood, tissue, or organs. Even if you are dead. Even if you’d save or improve 20 lives. It’s why someone can’t touch you, have sex with you, or use your body in any way without your continuous consent.

A fetus is using someone’s body parts. Therefore under bodily autonomy, it is there by permission, not by right. It needs a person’s continuous consent. If they deny and withdraw their consent, the pregnant person has the right to remove them from that moment. A fetus is equal in this regard because if I need someone else’s body parts to live, they can also legally deny me their use.

By saying a fetus has a right to someone’s body parts until it’s born, despite the pregnant person’s wishes, you are doing two things.

1. Granting a fetus more rights to other people’s bodies than any born person.
2. Awarding a pregnant person less rights to their body than a corpse.

I think this ties in rather well with Planned Parenthood’s idea that “individuals have the right to control their lives and to make informed choices regarding their sexuality and reproduction.” The defunding of Planned Parenthood because of the pro-life argument seems to suggest that everyone has a right to bodily autonomy – unless of course, you’re a pregnant female.

All abortion arguments aside, as a woman, I need an institution like Planned Parenthood. I cannot possibly begin to imagine what life was like before the existence of such a place. Men seem to constantly tell us just how “sacred” our life-bearing ability is while essentially telling us what we can and cannot do with that ability and squashing any attempt to properly learn about our bodies and our options. Simply knowing that there is an accessible place where myself and other women can learn about our own reproductive and sexual health in as non-judgemental and open a manner as men may discuss their own health makes me feel safer. Understanding that there is a support system out there for me, my friends and my family if we ever find ourselves in trouble is immensely helpful. Planned Parenthood is not only a place where women go to abort unwanted pregnancies. It is an institution where women can find refuge from a world in which it is embarrassing to talk about something as simple as mammograms and menstruation. Men who cannot possibly fully understand the effort that goes into taking proper care of our oh-so-precious life-bearing bodies – sorry guys, but you don’t and you never will – should not (now or ever) be allowed to make decisions for women regarding our own bodies. So I stand with Planned Parenthood.

Tired Of Your Shit, Mannequins

My mom and I were in Old Navy about a week ago – note to everyone: retail therapy and a movie with your mother is often the best recipe for a perfect day. In Old Navy I discovered a little thing that got me all riled up – what else is new? I think almost every person in the world will back me up when I say we’ve all been in a clothing store, looked in the mirror at an outfit, and said “why the fuck doesn’t this look like it does on the mannequin?” or something along those lines. Many people might find this post ridiculous – obviously nobody (that I know of) is made of plastic, and mannequins are shaped to a supposed “ideal form” by machines in factories. So obviously nobody is going to look the same as mannequins do in store clothes. I get it, but hold up. Just in case anybody needs more confirmation that clothing is essentially only built for a very specific type of body, I’ll show you what I saw:

IMG_1124This is a shirt. It’s in Old Navy. It looks cute. Maybe I’ll try it on!

IMG_1125

OH WAIT. That, kids, is when I got irritated. Look how much fabric is back there! Look at it! I’m pretty sure you can hear my voice rising multiple octaves through my computer screen. There’s more:

IMG_1126

It’s. A. Small. Already. That flowy-but-flattering pink tank top is already on the “small” end of the spectrum. I’m sure that Old Navy carries sizes extra-small through extra-large, but that’s not my point. My point is mannequins are made – and this includes every mannequin I’ve ever seen in a chain clothing store – to mimic the way models are built. That is fine, because models are people and there are people who are size 00 and extra-small. But not all people are models. Not all people have the time/energy/professional ability/body type to be models. So why does every mannequin have to mimic a single and occasionally unrealistic body type? Mannequins should be an accurate representation of how clothes look on a human being.

So here’s what I’m saying: do I want mannequins displaying clothes in chain stores to go from size zero to size whatever-the-largest-size-offered-in-the-store is? Yeah. Yeah I do. Do I want clothes to look flattering on mannequins, as they should on humans, minus the clip pulling back extra fabric? Hells yes, as the kids say. Just so everyone knows, I’m absolutely bitter about this because I’m not a size zero. I’ll never be a size zero, my body is not built that way. And I should not have a teeny tiny plastic template of a single female body type drowning in a tank top as my only point of reference for how a piece of clothing is going to look on me. Thank you and goodbye.

5 Things Cis People Can Actually Do For Trans People (Now That You Care About Us)

I have no thoughts. Just need to pass this along to everyone I know.

The (Trans)cendental Tourist

It’s been a weird year for trans people.

Allow me to be more specific: It’s been a heated, daring, tumultuous, graphic, specularizing, aggressive, pointed,contentious, highlyfatal, and really, really complicated year for trans people.

Here are a few examples: Kristina Gomez Reinwald, Ty Underwood, Lamia Beard, and many othertranswomen of color have been brutally murdered at the hands of lovers, family members, and strangers.Meanwhile,Laverne Cox and Janet Mock have come to fame and exhibited incrediblefeats of grace, articulation, and poignancy under the gaze ofan eager media. Blake Brockington, Leelah Alcorn, Taylor Alesana, and many other transgender youth have committed suicide afterenduring endless bullying and systematic brutality. Meanwhile, Jazz Jennings became the new face of Clean & Clear and published a children’s picture book about her life, and teen trans couple Arin Andrews and KatieHill (best known for “Can You Even Believe They’re Trans?!” types of headlines) wrote and published individual books…

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What the Fuck is Fuckable

Heather Matarazzo being absolutely perfect.

Heather Matarazzo

Seriously? What the fuck is fuckable?? I don’t know if I can answer that question for you, but I can share my own experience.

When I was 19 or so, I was standing in a Starbucks in West Hollywood with a director, talking about the upcoming film we were about to shoot. It had been a long road, but we had finally made it. Waiting for our coffee, I could see that he seemed a bit uneasy. I asked him if everything was ok. He said yes. I didn’t believe him, so I asked him again. He looked at me and said “Heather, I’m sorry, we have to give your role to another actor. The producers don’t want you.” I didn’t understand. I had been attached to this project for two years, and now two weeks before filming, I’m being let go. I asked him why. He looked me dead…

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A Reply to Lauren Southern’s “Why I’m Not a Feminist”

Everyday Geopolitics Houston

Dear Lauren,

In the last couple days, I have seen your video “Why I’m Not a Feminist” pop up a few times. In the video, you describe why you are not a feminist. At the heart of your message is the assertion, “I am not a feminist because I believe both genders should be treated equally.” Setting aside for a moment the problems with your assumption that gender can be reduced to a binary of male/female (here’s a decent introduction to that if you want), I want to talk about the misinformation you offer in your video: misinformation about feminist activism and scholarship, and misinformation about domestic violence and rape. I don’t often find engaging in these types debates online to be the most fruitful use of my energies, since people that produce anti-feminist content generally are not very open to meaningful engagement with feminist thought, however I’ve been stewing over your…

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Many Thoughts On Body Image

Campaign for Real BeautyI’m taking the plunge.

Body image has been a near-constant struggle for me throughout my life. I am just now, as a 20 year old female, beginning to feel confident and secure in the way I look and I’m still nowhere near comfortable with myself. Insecurity has been my worst enemy from the first time my dance teacher called me “fat” and the first time a boy in the playground told me I was ugly. I have been born into a society where I do not and most likely never will fit the “norm”, at least in terms of aesthetics. What is the “norm”? Why do we even have a norm? Why must we squeeze ourselves into conventions when we belong to such a diverse species as the human one? Before you read any more of my post, please read this essay. I’ve posted it before, but I think that it’s very relevant to the discussion on which I am about to embark. The girl who wrote it is also fucking right. About everything.

And now that you’ve educated yourselves, more about me. I’m not thin by any stretch. I have fluctuated between curvy and overweight/”chubby” my whole damn life. On the other hand though, I’m not “fat.” I can go into a store and find clothing in my size with relatively no trouble. However, I’m always the last size. It’s always the will-they-still-have-it-in-a-large question when I walk into a store. This in-betweenness of my body type is, in a way, frightening for me. I’m not skinny, therefore I’m not accepted or placed in the realm of “conventionally/societally/obviously/insert-substitute-word-for-normal-here beautiful”.  At the same time, I’m not “fat” so it feels awkward and unjustified when I complain about the oppression that I do experience.

There has been a shitstorm of body image-related topics trending on the beloved Interweb recently. The French government recently approved a regulation stating that models need a BMI of at least 18 in order to work. My opinion on this is somewhat ambivalent. I’m all for cracking down on eating disorders, which is really what these regulations are about. On the flip side: models are supposed to do exactly that – model. The clothes are supposed to be the focus, not the bodies of the model’s on which they appear, which is why (I think) models are classically thin and androgynous-looking. In addition to this, these regulations are still about telling women how they should look. Instead, I think the fashion industry should be more inclusive of all body types in their designs themselves – i.e. don’t just make clothes that look good on skinny people, please and thanks.

My wonderful mother posted this video on Facebook today. Dove’s new campaign entitled #OneBeautifulThought is about, at its core, being kinder to our minds and bodies. It is about stepping back, thinking about what we’re saying to ourselves, and perhaps checking the language we use in reference to our own bodies. Let me just preface my critique by saying that I’m all for this. I love it. My mom reminds me all the time to be kind to myself and I love her for it and I thank Dove for jumping on the “love yourself no matter what” bandwagon. I still have a bit of a problem with this commercial and most other popular body positive campaigns. Not one woman in that commercial is outside the realm of socially acceptable beauty. Nobody is even remotely close to fat, nobody has skin problems, not one has any sort of physical disability. The complete lack of any actress with an alternate body type/beauty that differs from the norm does a couple things: It excludes these women, even subconsciously. It makes us feel like we aren’t supposed to subscribe to that “love yourself” message. Not only does that just plain suck, but it also negates the message itself. The message is “no matter what we look like.”

What does it mean when people with a physical appearance different from what is socially acceptable are excluded? Well friends, it means that we are not socially acceptable, and that is really hard to hear. Until the media starts to include diverse types of female (and male, for that matter) bodies, these “love yourself” campaigns will indeed fail to work their proposed magic on the world.

Defending Hannah Horvath

Hannah_horvath_1In light of a recent Vanity Fair article, and the season 4 finale of Girls yesterday evening, I felt the need to (again, I know, I’m not sorry) defend my favourite TV show to the world.

Firstly, I agree with most of the VF article (link above). I have not been too pleased with the writing on the past season, and the complete lack of change or growth in any of the characters is getting hella old.

Nobody actually likes Hannah Horvath. I’m not sure that anyone who watches Girls likes any of the people depicted in the series. Maybe Shoshanna. However, the only reason Shoshanna is well-liked is because she happens to be the biggest caricature. We like Shosh like we like Daffy Duck. The aim of the show is to portray real life, yes. A friend once described it to me as “what Sex and the City would have been without the fantasy” – there is no Mr. Big, Carrie Bradshaw does not step off the bus and go buy a pair of Jimmy Choo’s. Shoshanna screams Sex and the City more than anyone else on the show. However at the same time, all the “girls” are over-the-top. It’s a double-edged sword, criticizing Shoshanna because of her cartoony nature. And regardless of what the character is “supposed to be”, Zosia Mamet makes me believe everything about Shosh.

Each character, in their own right, is an over-the-top-yet-accurate-as-fuck portrayal of North American twentysomething women today. We are living in a generation of narcissism. Social media (although I hail it as a tool rather than a hindrance), is used by our generation to tell the world what show we binge-watched this weekend (mine was True Detective, I even tweeted about that one), and to measure how much people love us. This blog? I created it so that I could make my voice heard, instead of writing in my journal where nobody but myself will ever listen to or care about my thoughts. It’s pure narcissism. My twitter feed is full of “It’s a snow day at Uni! Guess who’s making #cupcakes?” type tweets. Subsequently, I will Instagram a photo of said cupcakes and also (in most cases) Facebook message my best friend while she’s probably wandering around Seville just to say “hey I made cupcakes! Look at me!”

Hannah Horvath – and I guess Lena Dunham, being her creator – simultaneously champions her generation’s obsession with itself (there’s an episode where she actually says: “I think that I may be the voice of my generation. Or a voice. Of a generation”), and calls it out (because I don’t really think anyone would appreciate a genuine comparison of themselves to Hannah Horvath). Hannah Horvath and her “girls” represent the selfish, shallow, celebrity-obsessed, participation-trophy-receiving person in all of us. We like to make fun of her, we like to appreciate that we are nowhere near as crazy as she is, but we must admit that she comes out in our own personalities sometimes. I mean, I don’t think I’m the voice of my generation, but I sure as hell would like to to be.

That isn’t the only reason I love Hannah Horvath. Hannah Horvath is the first character I’ve seen that has looked like me, talked like me, been interested in the same things as me, and echoed my emotions in a relevant way. Not in a fat-girl-fall-down-go-boom way. Not in a campy way. For example: weird writing this season aside, when – SPOILER ALERT, GO NO FURTHER – Hannah and Adam break up *choked sobbing*, Hannah walks out into the hallway of her old apartment building (after hiding in his and his new girlfriend’s room for 48 hours, but that’s a detail) and just stands there, looking utterly alone and lost. And I cried people. Really cried. This has been four seasons of “I like this boy. He’s good looking. Will he like me back? Is he using me? He loves me?! He LOVES me?! Why me? My friends are hotter. I’m awkward and shy and weird. He loves me! *much rejoicing.*” And then it doesn’t work, as happens with some relationships, but Hannah gets back up and back out. And the best part? In the finale – SPOILER #2 – Adam asks her to take him back, and she refuses. She can’t do it to herself. I cried there too. Partially because I’ll always want my Disney ending, and partially because I have been in a position where I’ve had to say no for my own well-being, despite wanting the opposite. And that has never once been portrayed on a screen by someone who looks like me. There are some valid criticisms of Hannah and Adam’s relationship out on the internet. At the base of everything though, there is a girl-likes-boy-boy-likes-girl mentality that I’ve only ever seen before with skinny, conventionally attractive characters. Before the internet goes all “are you saying Lena Dunham isn’t attractive” let me stop you. Lena Dunham is attractive. She’s a stunning human being. There’s a great essay, called “Let’s Talk About Thin Privilege.” Read it. Read the whole thing. I’m not saying Lena Dunham isn’t pretty. I’m saying the media deems people like Lena Dunham (and me) unattractive. People like me watch the Adam’s fall for the Marnie’s and the Jessa’s on screen and we say “of course he loves you. Look at you. How could he not?” For years and years the media has been telling women “you must look like this to have this.” Hannah Horvath is the first girl who has come even remotely close to getting the guy without having what the media “says you have to have.” And I will fight for life to have characters like this on television, for me and every single woman in the world who has ever felt even slightly inadequate.

Baked Mac & Cheese, 15 Minutes of Fame, and Proof that Hegel Was a Racist

Hegel looking severeI’ve been an extremely lazy blogger these past few weeks. Among other boring school-related things, I got an awful cold and did nothing but remain curled up in my bed, watching Gilmore Girls for two straight days. I’ve been in desperate need of comfort food the past few days, and so tonight I made my aunt’s infamous and unprecedented baked macaroni and cheese. Well, obviously I’ve fully recovered and now there’s no excuse for lazy blogging.

Yesterday, two or three people sought me out at school in order for me to recount the story of my “altercation” with one of my profs*. In our tutorial, the professor posed this question: Why do we read Heidegger/give any credence to his works when we know he was an unrepentant Nazi? This question intrigues me, because it is one of the main focuses of another course I’m taking, called “The Idea of Race.” We constantly ask this question in the context of various other philosophers that we read and study in my program. I find it difficult to reconcile agreeing with Heidegger in this sense. No matter how great I think he is, I often close his essays and think to myself “Yep. You’ve just agreed with a Nazi.” Similarly, I kick myself when I come out of a Woody Allen movie thinking about how brilliant he is, and then remember that he had an affair with his adoptive daughter. I can’t ever imagine getting behind Stephen Harper’s politics, but I’m sure I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with him on every platform. The point of all this being that I get frustrated with myself and society for holding these philosophers in such high esteem, but also that I recognize the merit they possess as essential thinkers, I thrust my hand in the air, Hermione Granger style, and say: “well Hegel was a racist, but we still read him.” I have to give my professor due credit for allowing me to finish my point (stated above) before he interjected, but I lost momentum as soon as I hit the first sentence, due to the commencement of violent head-shaking when the words “Hegel” and “racist” were mentioned in reference to each other.

Once I finished speaking, all my professor said was “Hegel wasn’t a racist.” Yes. Yes he was. I am sorry to disappoint you Doctor, but he was definitely racist. Another point I raised in my argument was that the more damning texts by these philosophers are often effectively removed from our curriculum and shoved under the rug with all the other nasty stuff people think, which is evidenced further by the fact that my prof had no idea what I was talking about when I said Hegel was racist. Now, Hegel might not be as overtly racist as Heidegger was a Nazi, and political incorrectness does not necessarily a racist make, but there are certain things in a specific essay entitled “Anthropology” that would today be considered incredibly offensive and – dare I say it – racist. But, after ten minutes of listening to my professor spout “Hegel believed that every being was inherently equal,” I gave up the argument and asked if we could move on to something relevant to the rest of the tutorial, which should have been about Heidegger.

I’m going to preface the remainder of this post with a disclaimer: I am not a Hegel scholar. I’m sure you could find one that would completely blow my argument here out of the water. Part of the reason I argued so ineffectively in class was that my professor was confronting me with an “I know much more about this than you, you silly child” attitude, which is true. He does know more than I do about Hegel. My argument is based on the limited understanding I have of Hegel as a whole, and the specific essay that I will quote.

The premise of this essay, much like Kant’s essay “Of The Different Human Races” is an attempt to classify different races in a biological/geographical study.  In the first page, Hegel says: “Man is implicitly rational; herein lies the possibility of equal justice for all men and the futility of a rigid distinction between races which have rights and those which have none.” So far so good, right? I mean, the whole “man is implicitly rational, equal justice for all men” part doesn’t seem so bad. He then moves on to talk about what he calls “the Old World and the New World”, briefly his notion of World History (too lengthy to explain here), and the Blumenbach theory of skull shape determining aesthetic perfection of a human and distinguishing humans from animals (Blumenbach thought that the White European skull shape was the most aesthetically perfect – while this is perhaps not inherently racist, it is 100% Eurocentric and I would go as far as to say ignorant and disgusting). Hegel’s use of language here gives him away a little. In describing the White European skull shape he uses phrases like “gently arched” and “soft and long.” When describing an African skull shape he uses phrases like “bulging” and “juts out.” Hegel, your Eurocentrism is showing.

And now we get to the pièce de résistance. In his essay, entitled “Anthropology,” G.W.F. Hegel says, and I quote: “Negroes are to be regarded as a race of children who remain immersed in their state of uninterested naïveté. They are sold, and let themselves be sold, without any reflection on the rights or wrongs of the matter.” Excuse me while I go and vomit. Am I to understand by this quote that Hegel means Black slaves allowed themselves to be sold, making it their fault slavery exists? What, like white people didn’t kidnap, torture, and buy and sell other human beings on the grounds that they were an inherently lesser race? Not only is Hegel saying it is essentially not the White race’s fault that slavery was ever an issue (which, by the way, it was) he is assuming that Black people did not have the level of intelligence to reflect on the wrongs of being enslaved. Are you kidding me? A note to Hegel⁺: They reflected. Let me tell you, they reflected. They reflected on the wrongs of enslavement every time a black person was purchased, raped, tortured, lynched, or had their identity stripped from them by a white person. They reflected right up to the modern day, where a white police officer can shoot an unarmed black man who has committed no crime and get away with it. They are still reflecting, while white people like you show an uncommon level of ignorance unworthy of the enlightened race you suppose the White European race to be. And you sir, were a racist.


*Important info because there were only six people in the tutorial at the time, which means that news still travels fast and I was famous for a bit.

⁺You know you’re a philosophy student when you are ranting and writing notes directly to dead philosophers.

10 Things I Wish I Could Re-Experience For The First Time

We all have them – whether it be the birth of your child (I don’t have kids, but personally – that is something I feel like I’d only be down to go through once), or reading a great book. Here are mine.

1. The Harry Potter Series – these books were arguably the largest part of my childhood. They fed an appetite for reading (and writing) that has only grown since the end of the series. I would kill (okay, perhaps not kill) to once again experience reading them for the first time.

2. Listening to Dancing Barefoot – for those of you that don’t know: here is the greatest song you will ever hear. You might not know it, but it is. You’re welcome.

3. On that note, meeting Patti Smith – even if all I could get out was “I like your boots.”

4. The TIFF premiere of Ginger and Rosa – it’s not every day you get to witness the premiere of a piece of art like that. Yes, I’m talking about Elle Fanning’s pantsuit. Also the movie. I’m also talking about the movie.

5. My first concert – it was Savage Garden. I’m okay with it.

6. The moment I realized high school didn’t matter – You don’t find relief like that anywhere else.

7. The Dante Party – This one’s for Genny. At my University, we have a Divine Comedy themed residence party every year. My year’s party was lame, to say the least, because the year before (being Genny’s year) got so out-of-hand that the university put a bunch of regulations in place. But I was at that out-of-hand Dante party (which did not seem so out of hand to me, but apparently a security guard got punched in the face. I was just having a good time), with Genny and a few of my soon-to-be friends. There were three levels of the residence, and they were all decked out like the sections of The Divine Comedy, level one being Inferno, level two being purgatory, and level three being Paradise. The whole thing was genius.

8. FYP – More formally known as “The Foundation Year Programme.” A university course which traces the trajectory of Western thought, and blew my mind so far open that, on occasion, my roommate would find me in my bedroom just lying on my bed, feeling overwhelmed. Although I must credit my current level of intelligence in large part to that program, having my mind blown on a daily basis was perhaps the greatest thing. I used to walk around all day every day feeling like the world was a totally new place.

9. The moment my parents walked in the door with my sister – to this day, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. She was this squirmy, pudgy little thing with abnormally strong legs (no, really, I had bruises from her kicking me) and a penchant for screaming bloody murder when she was hungry. She was maybe the cutest baby I’ve ever seen, even to this day. I used to watch her sleep in her crib with her little fists squashed together, or her face mashed into the mattress (she is the only baby I’ve ever seen that slept on her stomach). I distinctly remember my six year old self thinking “I’m gonna be the best big sister you’ll ever have.”

10. Expressing (out loud, I might add) my general surprise that Princess Jasmine (a la Disney World) had breasts – I don’t remember this story. I only remember being told about it afterwards.