Rockabye Baby HQ is based in Silver Lake, which is essentially Williamsburg West, or, in short, hipster central. So we know a thing or two what it means to be “with it” — we’re surrounded by cool parents — which is how we came up with this handy list of signs that you’re a hipster parent.
Take a look and see how you score on the hipster parent scale.
YOU KNOW YOU’RE A HIPSTER PARENT WHEN…
You live in Silver Lake or Williamsburg.
You gave your kid an unconventional name, or if you did give your kid a common name, you spelled it unconventionally.
You drive a Prius.
“Organic” is your unspoken middle name.
You, dear fathers, sport a biblical beard or well-groomed mustache.
This is where you shop in order of preference: farmers’ markets, Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods.
You’re a mother who breastfeeds proudly in public — with no cover.
Your kids wear Toms and so did you, before they became trendy. (Now you prefer moccasins.)
You or your spouse are or were in a band, filmmaker(s), writer(s) — possibly even all of the above.
Your or your partner/spouse or both of you have tattoos you don’t regret.
Your or your partner/spouse or both of you have piercings you don’t regret.
For your kid, clothing is optional.
You own at least 3 Rockabye Baby CDs!
If you checked up to 4, you’re definitely a hipster parent-in-training. Don’t worry, you can still change your son’s name and grow that beard.
If you checked up to 8, congratulations you’re absolutely a hipster parent! You can teach the people above a thing or two about being in the know!
If you checked 11 or more, you’re a whole different level. Perhaps hipster royalty — the equivalent of Brangelina. Perhaps a more fitting comparison would be “Mikeranda.” (If you get who we’re referring to, give yourself 4 free checks as you just moved up a level.
I’m a baby of the ’80s. During my childhood, MTV, CMT, radio and cassette tapes were in and vinyl was out. So out in fact that my parents gave away a huge percentage of their vinyl collection because it just wasn’t that cool anymore.
But as you all know, that has since changed. Vinyl has made a serious comeback in recent years, with sales skyrocketing to 6.1 million in 2013 (the highest since 1991). Even crazier is that Urban Outfitters is now the world’s largest seller of vinyl. Weird, right?!? Interestingly enough, it’s the kids who grew up being able to download music or stream via Pandora and Spotify who are the primary demographic buying vinyl now. And I am one of them (a passive collector, I might add, as I‘ll hunt down a vinyl release maybe twice a year).
My how the tables have turned (ha ha, get it)!
Since I had a late start, I got my first record at 19.
I have since added more (but not many more as both of my roommates have way larger collections than I do, so I just spin what they’ve got). But enough about me! Wouldn’t you say it’s high time to get your hands on baby’s first vinyl? Just tell us this to enter this week’s vinyl giveaway:
What was the first record you bought?
Tell us what your very first vinyl was in the comments by November 11, 8 pm PST to be automatically entered to win one (1) of these albums: Lullaby Renditions of Pearl Jam, The Flaming Lips or The White Stripes. Three (3) total winners will be selected in our random drawing.
Boy, did we ever stir it up with last month’s post about whether or not it was okay for the word “fat” to be included in a preschool lesson. (See all the blog comments and Facebook discussion.) Some said First-Time Mommy was right to be concerned, others said she was being overly sensitive and even censoring her kid.
Whatever your take on the matter, I think we can all agree that we live in a weight-obsessed culture, one where “fat” people get treated differently than thin ones. Kids—even ones as young as three- and four-year-olds—can already understand the pejorative connotations of this other F word. Even if they aren’t quite sure what “fat” means, they know it’s bad.
As someone who grew up close to someone with an eating disorder, I don’t want my daughters suffering the same fate. I watched a young woman waste away, riddled with self-hatred and a totally distorted view of her body that took years of therapy to heal. And I don’t want your sons or daughters or friends or anyone for that matter to have to go through that sh*t. But the message to be impossibly thin is all around them—and being fat, in our culture, means an association with being lazy or even evil.
Here’s a general rule I’ve learned the hard way to use around my kids: Don’t say anything around them you don’t want them to repeat. Because children are whip-smart, they hear everything, and are really good at whipping out the perfect word at the perfect moment for maximum parental embarrassment. And it’s not the curse words I’ve uttered that I’m ashamed of—it’s the time I asked my husband if a pair of jeans I had on made me look fat. My four-year-old was in the room and though I haven’t seen evidence of damage done (she hasn’t repeated the word in a degrading way), every time I think about it I wince. Because not only was it a total parental fail in promoting a healthy body image, it also contradicts everything I believe in, which is to treat people (including yourself!) respectfully. I used a word in a way that I definitely don’t want her to repeat.
Until we can stop putting a moral value on obesity and using the word “fat” to degrade and diminish people, I’m going to watch how the F word gets used in my house. That means first off censoring my own damn mouth—and then secondly, patrolling its use in books, movies, and magazines (just as I skip over the words “stupid,” “ugly,” and “hate” in stories, I’m skipping over “fat” unless it refers to cutting meat).
Words have power. As a parent, it’s my job to use them in a manner that empowers my kids and to teach them to love bodies of any shape and size. That means being careful—and sensitive—about the use of the F word. It’s not being oversensitive; it’s doing what we can to counter the way words are used to damage us.
It’s been a while since we’ve talked sh*t. But it’s not for lack of it! So we’re bringing sh*t back this summer starting with this conversation one of our mommy fans shared with us between her and her 6-year-old.
What kind of sh*t comes out of your kid’s mouth? We’d love to hear it! We may even run it on our blog in the future.
Does your baby think they were born to run? If your little Boss isn’t tired and wants to prove it all night, tuck them in with these blissful versions of Bruce Springsteen’s classic rock anthems. We promise there will be lots of sleeping in the dark.