In this day and age children are a hobby. They are part of a bucket list…something to do before we die.
Get a high paying job – CHECK
Visit another country – CHECK
Have a baby – CHECK
Eventually, they are relegated to the status of “pet”, we put them in “quality kennels”, pat ourselves on the back for making such sound decisions, and head off to pursue the next thing on the list.
The hand that rocks the cradle, truly does rule the world. But guess who is rocking the cradle? Not mama.
Oh sure, she spends the evening hours and weekends rocking the cradle–that is, if her children aren’t spending their evening hours immersed in homework and their weekend hours immersed in ballgames. But, truth be told, she cannot compete with the 14,000+ hours the government spends “rocking the cradle” during her offspring’s childhood.
Recently, I saw how different our world has become due to government intervention in the raising of our children. A couple of friends of mine were drug through the mud due to their choice to breastfeed past infancy. They were told their toddlers were nearly “school-age” and how unacceptable breastfeeding at that age was. I had a hard time figuring out why someone would think these children were “school-age”; until one of the moms pointed out to me that children now enter school at age 3.
We’ve gone from ROCKING the cradle to ROBBING the cradle!
Earlier and earlier our children become wards of the state. Oh sure, the motives of the government seem pure. Things like early intervention for poverty-stricken families and the need to raise test scores to be able to compete in the global market are touted as good reasons to snatch children from their homes in toddlerhood, but have we seen any positive effects from all of this?
If anything, we’ve seen parents gladly give up their parental rights to strangers who “know better” how to raise youngsters. Does no one see a problem with this? Somehow a teaching certificate or a government title makes a total stranger better equipped to teach (and essentially raise) a child I physically gave birth to? What kind of outlandish logic is that?
Call me a control freak. Call me a radical conservative. Call me subversive. Call me an overprotective mama.
Call me what you will…
I’ll do the rocking myself, thank you very much.