Everything you always wanted to know about calling anonymous women sluts via Twitter but were afraid to ask

I'm pretty much just like celebrated Little League pitcher and female sports pioneer Mo'Ne Davis. Except I'm not good at playing baseball. Or 13 years old. Or ever included in the SportsCenter Top Ten. Or a paragon of moral rectitude. But she and I both got called whores on Twitter this week. There's that. And, yeah, that's pretty much all we have in common.

Point of clarification: I was called a whore. Bloomsburg University baseball player Joey Casselberry referred to Davis as a "slut," actually. He was reprimanded and even kicked off his college team for his tweet. Harsh, perhaps, but he was stupid and he made a choice. But of course, as the 24-hour news cycle collapsed around the story it quickly became Mo'Ne Davis' responsibility to fix the situation, even though she had no involvement whatsoever in either the tweet or the punishment. Davis contacted Bloomsburg University and asked officials to reconsider Casselberry's suspension. She publicly acknowledged that hey, people are sick of hearing about me and that is probably why this guy who doesn't know me felt it was okay to refer to me as a slut even though I am a mere child and he didn't mean it literally and I hope this doesn't affect the status of my Disney Channel biopic.

As I read the NPR story praising Davis for her benevolent actions, I honestly wanted to throw up. Not because I had any problem with what Mo'Ne Davis did or how she handled the situation, but because this is the messed-up way our society works. You're only allowed to be a little bit offended by misogyny (or racism or {{insert name of bad behavior here}}), and the responsibility always falls back on women (or people of color, or {{insert name of marginalized group here}}) to react in just the right way. It is NOT Mo'Ne Davis' responsibility to make Joey Casselberry feel better about acting like a jerk on the Internet. Except that it is.

The Internet is great for so many things -- getting life-changing information about how to peel a mango, for example. But it's also a great place to meet narcissistic psychopaths. I'm glad I'm not a famous female athlete or feminist author or movie star, because all those people get all day is Trolly McTrollerson Troll-Trolls. Despicable trolls. I would not even begin to try and compare what was said to me this week by an anonymous person with any of the abuse those aforementioned women have to endure just to be on Twitter.

But yes, this week I was told via Twitter to "Shut up, whore" for presumably no reason. I guess I was saying something annoying; I don't really know. I made a "sad trombone" joke about the NCAA tournament...? Four people favorited it. No one else complained. I dunno. The narcissistic psychopathic who contacted me, I think, believes he is funny. I didn't think he was. I blocked and reported him.

Do I think that, in referring to me as a whore, he is literally suggesting that I routinely sell sexual favors out of a minivan on the corner of 86th and Hickman? No. But that is completely NOT THE POINT. That's why he thought I was offended, though. Actually, it's why he thought my husband was offended; I had nothing to say about the matter, but my husband got a teeny tiny bit enraged. (God bless my husband, by the way, for things like this still bothering him; he has been living in a college-educated feminist man bubble for about 37 years. Also: Why am I putting all my family members in bubbles this week?). But of course the implication was obvious: I am the one who is supposed to tell my husband not to worry about it because if I am also offended by the "joke" then I'm just a crazy feminist.

Here's the thing about feminism and the Internet, though: Hardly anyone seems to understand what feminism actually is. (Thank you to The Onion for making this point hilariously last October.) I realize that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for podcasts about intersectional feminism or routinely studies up on infant feeding policy, but I do believe we all have a little bit of feminist inside of us. Today I call upon all citizens to embrace one simple piece of advice about relating to today's woman -- every woman, whether she's as nice as Mo'Ne Davis or as cranky as I am:

Don't call a woman you don't know a slut or a whore, even as a joke, even if anyone on Earth thinks it's even remotely funny.

And that is all. Have a nice weekend, everyone.

Deep thoughts from the innocence bubble

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon, and I was picking up my 3 1/2-year-old son from daycare. He got excited as soon as I walked in the room -- maybe because he was seeing me, maybe because he was now free to run about the building and break the rules; I'm not sure. But after offering me a glancing peck on the cheek he ran, as he always does, to his favorite "center:" the sprawling "large motor" area. He normally hops on a small plastic exercise bike and pedals for a personal record while I collect the papers and spare clothes from his locker and start the long process of begging him to come home with me now please can we get out of here don't you want to get home and help me start dinner now please just put your coat on so we can go. But this time he bypassed the bike and instead approached a large bin full of tangled plastic pipes in various primary colors. He grabbed a long, green one in his thick white fingers and smiled broadly. Then he took another piece of pipe -- a curved blue one -- and carefully pushed the end of it into the green pipe. He knew what he was doing.

"I'M GONNA MAKE A GUN, MOMMY."

My heart dropped. I knew the day was coming when he'd see something or hear something or learn something about guns, but I was hoping he would maybe please be 25 or 26 years old. I looked on in horrified silence as he circled the room, waving his creation in the air and aiming it toward doorways and piles of nap cots and construction paper-festooned bulletin boards.

"GUN! GUN! GUN! GUN! GUN!" he shouted enthusiastically.

As I sat there wishing I was a toddler whisperer or that I'd at least read some sort of book or article about how to talk to small children about guns, I told myself to say something productive that wouldn't make the situation worse. Finally, I willed my mouth to open and just form the simplest question I could muster:

Hmmmm. What's that for?

"FOR SQUIRTING APPLES," he replied gleefully. "SQUIRT, SQUIRT, SQUIRT."

My relief was immediate. I got in on the game, opening my mouth wide so he could launch imaginary apples into it. Posing questions about the variety of apple that was being "squirted" -- Are these Pink Ladies, Gala, or Honeycrisp? Laughing with my child at the thought of such a funny object. For my toddler, it turns out a gun can just be a silly toy that feeds hungry people a nutritious snack. I wanted to cry. I wanted to breathe a deep sign of relief. I wanted to take my little apple squirter and put him in a plastic time preservation bubble, crawl into it with him, and stay there forever.

I realized I'm starting to understand that horrible thing that nearly every parent hates and fears: my child's loss of innocence. I know he has to grow up and become worldly and learn to defend himself and develop deeper levels of empathy and read Kafka and get a driver's license, but there is just something so wonderful about innocence that makes my heart get big and my eyes get wet when I think about it. I love that he has it. I never want it to go away.

I love when my son waves hello to a passerby from his tricycle and later swells with pride in reporting how he met someone new. I don't want him to ever have to be afraid of saying hello to a neighbor on the sidewalk.

I love that my son gets genuinely enthusiastic about helping me bake cookies. I want him to always want to help me, and I never want anyone to tell him that cookies are bad for you or make you fat or tell him that it's not okay to be fat or to eat a cookie.

I love that my son loves things like popping soap bubbles, clearing the dinner table, and giving the contents of his piggy bank to sick children at the hospital because of how those acts make him or others feel inside. I never want him to not do those things, nor do I want him to ever do them for any other reason.

But I know all of these things will change, and probably sooner than I want them to. And in my mind, that's okay because those changes are part of growing up and becoming who you are.

But in my heart, I see the appeal of that bubble. I understand why helicopter parenting is so popular. Yes, it's overprotective. And yes, it's wrong. But maybe there's something admirable in wanting to preserve that childhood innocence for as long as possible. In covering their eyes during the scary scenes. In kissing their injuries. In believing that guns squirt apples.

Just give me a few more months of this, please?

Ode to Snow

It's March in Iowa, which means two things: winter is starting to wind down, and we're probably due for more snow. Like last year, a lot of this winter's snowfalls were followed by freezing temperatures that were a major disappointment to my 3-year-old son, who just wants to play in the snow.

But there was at least one perfect day for playing in the snow a few weeks ago -- though the snow was melting quickly in the warm sunshine. But we made it over to Wakonda Club for their sledding day event and had an absolute blast. Here are some pictures I finally snagged off my iPhone of the glorious morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 May your spring days be filled with sledding! Happy March from the Bruns family!

2014 Recap: Excessive Docu-Momming Edition!

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was May 2011 and I was traveling in Italy, five months pregnant with my son CJ. I thought it would be special to pick up a handmade paper book there and use it as my child's baby book. I would artistically mount photographs, I told myself, document every milestone in a beautiful calligraphic script, and treasure the book forever.

But looks like I just use Twitter to record stuff.

Last year, I posted a recap of 2013 in tweets about my child -- mostly his hilarious quotes, and it ended up being a really good way to document CJ's development. Well, it was superior by default because it's the only thing I've done. So a few weeks ago, I set out to create a similar recap for 2014. But Twitter only had my tweets back to March 16, and all attempts to request my archive have fallen on deaf ears. Turns out @Support isn't actually so at supportive.

So, I regret that I've lost two months of my son's life to the Twitter machine. But I'll pick it up with Georges Niang's bloody eye against Kansas in the Big 12 tournament, because that's really when life got good last year, anyway. No?

So here's 2014 in CJ:

March 16: @GeorgesNiang20 is now the poster child-slash-reference point for "owies" at our house. "JorgNan is feeling better," 2-yr-old CJ says.

March 16: CJ couldn't stay up last night, so we showed video this AM. "Eye-lones cut down the white part of the hoop with orange scissors." RIGHT ON.

March 18: CJ: "No, don't give me a kiss, Mommy. I'm already happy."

March 19: "Next week!" = CJ's way of saying farewell, even if it's just a 5-minute separation.

March 23: CJ this morning: "Mommy, take my picture." Me: "Okay. Smile!"

March 26: Kid always wants to wants to watch "Eyelones," so eyelones.tv always appeases. But tonight he's asking for "different Eyelones." So spoiled.

March 30: My dad was w/ my colicky niece last night. CJ: "Where's Grandpa?" Gma: "Everyone's taking a turn holding Whitney." CJ: "I don't want my turn."

April 2: CJ at 8 p.m.: “I don’t wanna wear a SleepSack.” Me: “OK, are you sure? You might get cold.” CJ at 2:30 a.m.: “PUT MY SLEEPSACK ON, MOMMY!”

April 6: CJ on his breakfast of blueberry pancakes and sausage: “I’m excited to eat pancakes, Mommy! And I’m happy to see some meat.”

April 10: Gma to CJ after he forbade her from “turning left:” “Aren’t you being a little bossy?” CJ: “No, Grandma. I’m being BIG bossy.” Fair enough.

April 16: CJ, describing his strawberry yogurt this morning: “It’s good. Just like fresh strawberries from a bowl.”

April 18: Parenting win: My 2 ½-year-old son says he wants to be like Hallie Christofferson when he grows up.

April 19: According to CJ, Ben has an NFC Championship Trophy, only in gold. It’s a plastic fantasy football trophy, but same difference.

April 19: CJ, yelling in Daddy’s backswing at the golf course: “I’M GONNA BE REAL QUIET FOR YOU, DADDY.” #golfetiquette #nailedit
 

May 2: CJ described his Easter candy as tasting “like European chocolate.”

May 4: CJ is in his crib chanting “LET’S GO STATE! LET’S GO STATE!” Guess it’s time to get up. #lovethatkid

May 4: CJ’s review of Sesame Street Live: “I liked it a little bit. It was a little bit too dark and a little bit too loud. Let’s not go to a show.”

May 7: My 2-year-old has started concluding all stories he tells with a singsong “ANY-way…”

May 7: That was my kid hollering “HERE FISHY FISHY” into the koi pond at the Ankeny Waterfront Seafood tonight. Cuz of this.

May 12: Brunch at Wakonda Club and Des Moines Symphony with my mom made for a great Mother’s Day. Also getting sprayed with a garden hose by my 2-year-old.

May 18: What color cars do you like to play with, Mommy? Me: Well, I like blue, black, and red best. CJ: Here. You have yellow and green, Mommy.

May 21: CJ on toast: “Mommy, take off the crunchy parts?” #maybemissingthepoint

May 22: After I turn out the lights at bedtime: “Mommy, I can’t see my tongue!” #toddlerproblems

June 4: Dear Nestle: If you print an upside-down rabbit on your milk bottle, an OCD 2-year-old WILL turn it over & spill the contents everywhere.

June 8: CJ at bedtime: “Mommy, I’m gonna tell you something. First, this is a point. Okay? Now I am pointing at a chair.” Okay, boss. Got it.

June 9: Listening to Alt Nation w/ CJ yesterday. Just a few bars into a song, he says: “Is this ‘Out of My League?’” Yes. Yes, it was. #altrockbaby

June 13: CJ on Father’s Day: “Is there gonna be a tree, like at Christmas?”

June 15: The other day, CJ, seemingly out of nowhere, busted out a “Light it up, up, up…I’m on FY-AHHHHH!” #fallouttoddler

June 25: Eavesdropping on the nursery monitor as CJ talks to his stuffed toy owl, post-nap: “I just picked my nose, Owl!” That’s DISGUSTING! Ahahahaha!”

July 1: Realized tonight that CJ thinks people fly ON, not in, airplanes. After I told him Daddy was flying tonight, CJ worried that he’d fall off.

July 7: CJ & Granny always tell me before I leave on Monday morning not to work too hard. Today Ceej added: “Work softly, Mommy.” #mykidlovesadverbs

July 9: CJ was just the quietest he’s been in 2+ hours – after about 10 seconds of not talking. Next thing out of his mouth? “Mommy, do you have a penis?”

July 10: CJ: “Is it July?” Me: “Yes.” CJ, 5 seconds later: “Is it July now?” “Yes.” Five seconds after that: “Is it still July?” #couldbealongmonth

July 10: CJ’s summer vocab: Pool noodle=“tool noodle” and playing tennis="playing Tennessee."

July 19: CJ, shopping for baby carrots today: “They’re babies? [pause, concerned look] Does that cucumber [next to the carrots] take care of them?”

July 23: Every time we pass the bulldozers & construction equipment razing buildings on Ingersoll, I have to reassure CJ that they won’t tear down our house.

July 23: CJ, after blasting a chip shot over the practice green tonight: “Oh, Lordy! What did I do? Jesus! JEEEE-SUS!” Too much golfing with @benbruns.

July 31: CJ saw a dead ant on the sidewalk 2 weeks ago. I’ve spent every bedtime since assuring him there’s “no dead ant” and that a “birdie ate it.”

August 21: Is there anything sweeter than your toddler telling you at the end of a trying day that you look pretty? The answer is no. There is not.

August 22: CJ: “What does that orange sign say?” Me: “It says road work.” CJ: “AHEAD. It says Road Work AHEAD, Mommy.” I have a Mini-Me on my hands.

August 23: B was just on a conference call in our house. Pretty sure there was at least one “Mommy, did you clog the toilet?” yelled in the background.

August 23: Isiserettes + music + pizza + froyo + fresh-squeezed lemonade + dunk tank + train rides + bouncy house + balloon ani-mannals=CJ loved his first Ingersoll Live!

August 25: CJ to @benbruns, after Daddy painted a spot on the kitchen ceiling: “Oh, Daddy! You did a gorgeous job with that!”

August 25: This morning CJ played a game of “trucks drink lemon beer” with some wooden pickups and cans of Leinie’s Summer Shandy from our mini fridge.

September 4: If CJ’s turning 3 tomorrow, why did I have to unbend his elbows for him at bedtime tonight?

September 17: “Mommy, sing me one song before bed.” (I start singing "Twinkle, Twinkle") “No, Mommy! A song about sanitation workers!”

October 1: The burning question that’s torturing my 3-year-old today is “Why don’t we own a dunk tank?”

October 4: Would love if 3-year-old could find happy medium between crying if I get up to pee and “Mommy, stay out of here while I’m playing trains!”

October 4: CJ on the baseball game he saw briefly on TV today: “That’s a funny way to play golf, Mommy.”

October 6: Made the mistake of saying one of my potted plants “looked sad.” CJ spent some time consoling it this weekend. He remains concerned.

October 8: I estimate that my 3-year-old asked me 120 questions, many of them starting with “why,” between 5:30-7:30 p.m. last night. Not exaggerating.

October 14: “Mommy, it looks pretty on your face.”

October 17: CJ, reading the end of “Clifford’s Animal Sounds:” What does Clifford say? Clifford says bow wow – yippy yo, yippy yay. #probablymyfault #snooppuppy

October 24: It was Halloween costume day at CJ’s school. We’re bringing back the beloved pumpkin this year.

October 29: CJ: “Abraham Lincoln!” Me: “How do you know about Abraham Lincoln?” CJ, in condescending tone: “Well, he WAS the president, Mommy.” #served

October 31: CJ enjoyed trick-or-treating last night, but also handing out candy at our house and tattling on the kids who didn’t say “thank you.” Sigh.

November 1: From roughly May-Oct., wearing flip-flops was the equivalent of Chinese water torture for CJ. Now on Nov. 1, he wants to wear them to bed.

November 2: Daddy didn’t advance in the human foosball tourney and the Packers are idle, so park it is.

November 2: CJ on the stripes on his track suit: “I look like I play for the Drake Bulldogs today.”

November 4: CJ’s favorite toy currently is a talking Taco Bell Chihuahua with a Y2K party hat that says “Happy New Year, Amigos.” #longstory

November 5: Thanks to @benbruns, CJ is roaming around the house singing “Pinball wizard, it has to be a trick…something, something, something…”

November 5: More “Pinball Wizard” from CJ this evening: “How do you think he does it? What makes him so good? CARROTS!”

November 5: Sitting at the dining room table sharing a yellow cake I made with my 3-year-old, he asked me if I like myself. #freetherapy

November 6: Since Ben was traveling, I let CJ be in charge of dinner last night. He served Annie’s boxed mac & cheese, corn, cuties, & boxed mix cake.

November 8: A street sweeper is on our corner picking up leaves and putting them in a dump truck. #greatestthingthathaseverhappened

November 8: CJ: “I don’t wanna wear jammies. I’ll just wear my skin.”

November 12: “Edward is chuffing happily into the tomatoes.”

November 14: “Why are you wearing Cyclones, Mommy?” Me: “We’re playing Oakland tonight.” Cue CJ running around the house chanting “BEAT THE RAIDERS.”

November 15: K, you try not to laugh when a 3-year-old in dino PJs & a pumpkin costume beret gets in your face and growls “I don’t like Rutherford B. Hayes.”

November 16: My 3-year-old on courtside seats: “Why do we have to sit ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE?!” #firstworldtoddlerproblems

November 17: CJ, on the baby whose picture is on the back of the package of baby wipes: “I don’t know him, but I don’t like that guy.”

November 19: Today CJ is starting every sentence with “I’m from Tidmouth Sheds.” As in, “I’m from Tidmouth Sheds, and I’ll finish my burger after my nap.”

November 23: Went to my awesome women’s book group tonight. CJ informed me there would be guys’ book club at home. They discussed “Rainforest Colors.”

November 25: If my 3-year-old is picking his boogers and eating them during a youth symphony performance, should I just be happy that he’s being quiet?

December 3: Ask a toddler to smile, and this is what you get. Every. Time.

December 4: “Mommy, what kind of a name for a song is ‘Spaghetti to Look a Lot Like Christmas?’”

December 7: My 3-year-old’s current obsession: the photocopier. Evidence all over his bedroom.

December 13: Listening to my 3-year-old try to sing “Say Geronimo” is maybe one of the cutest things ever.

December 15: The Dr. Suess book “Wacky Wednesday” sends my toddler into convulsions of laughter.

December 24: CJ on the smattering of snow we woke up to: “But we can still make a snow fort…”

December 29: CJ’s room, currently. The kid is in to puzzles.

December 31: My 3-year-old noticed Jameel McKay’s red and green shoes and speculated that he got them from Santa.

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ADDENDUM! Here are the tweets from Jan. 1- March 15, thanks to "AllMyTweets.net" and my friend Adam who told me about it.

January 4: CJ, talking to himself at dinner tonight: "Look at you, CJ! That's a hard job, peeling a Cutie.

January 5: CJ's wakeup babbling/imaginary play this morning, per monitor: "Go away, turtle! Don't bite Mommy!" Thanks for looking out for me, Buddy.

January 8: Got a back scratcher in our family's white elephant exchange this year. CJ is a big fan now of the "scratch backer."

January 15: That awkward moment when you realize you've accidentally done something helpful & caring for your fiercely independent 2-year-old & there's gonna be hell to pay

January 30: 2-yr-old made me play Capital Cities' "Center Stage" 5x in a row last night. Told me to "have a good time" in different rooms of the house. 

February 1: CJ just asked me why he didn't get to see Grandpa today. I told him Papa had to go to Waterloo. Pause. "Yeah," he nodded. "Water IS loose." 

February 6: At least one member of our family still has Broncos Fever. Two-year-old CJ woke up today chanting "Omaha, Omaha." 

February 8: Please someone offer to give me a dollar every time I say, "Please sit down in your car seat. Sit down. Sit. Sit down in your car seat NOW."

February 8: CJ just cheered on ISU during an instant replay and then, after Ejim sank the jumper, turned to me and said "I called it!" #thisismykid 

February 11: Explained to CJ how the Cyclones didn't win. "It's OK," he said. "Keep trying. Keep shooting." If Fred needs a motivational guest speaker...

February 12: Was listening to Jim James' A-E-I-O-U in the car. Pretty soon here comes a croon from the backseat: "And Bingo was his name-o. 

February 16: My 2-year-old told me my hair looks cute today. Feb 16, 2014

February 17: Nursery monitor this morning: Hey, Kate! KATE! KATE! HEY, KATE! Hey! Hey! Kaaaaaate! 

February 20: Soon as you finish food on your dinner plate, CJ scoops you some more. My 2-year-old son is an Italian grandmother. #youreskinandbones

February 20: Parent tip: Said goddammit in front of your 2-yr-old? You CAN convince him you actually said "got damaged." Not that I know from experience. 

February 25: CJ's & Ben's last 2 nights' evening activity has been watching Golf Channel while building a LEGO fire station. @benbruns is in Dad Heaven. 

March 2: Now that my husband's an uncle and my brother's a daddy, not sure to whom CJ is referring when he says "Uncle Daddy." But it's quite cute. 

March 5: My 2-year-old son and cyclones.tv devotee on Paul Rhoads: "That man makes loud noises, Mommy!" #Cyclones

March 6: My 2-year-old LOVES @FitzAndTantrums. Every time we get in the car he says, "Want Break Da Walls!" then is thrilled for "Walker Song" after 

March 7: Not sure there's anything left for me to teach my kid now that he can engage in a Hello, Newman/Hello, Jerry exchange w/ proper inflection.

March 8: CJ, counting backward with the book "Five Little Ladybugs:" 5, 4, 3, 2, Lowercase L. He's not sure what's a letter & what's a number yet. 

March 9: Reedy-raider=how CJ says the word "radiator."

March 15: My 2-year-old and I are stress eating a cheesecake like The Golden Girls. #Cyclones

March 15: Things I let my kid do tonight so I could watch #ISUvsKU: eat a napkin, play w/ my phone charger, consume copious amounts of M&Ms #parenting

Blueberry-Lemon Layer Cake

Last weekend I celebrated my 36th birthday. Which was great and all, but I will also admit that at this point in my life the main highlight of having a birthday is trying new cake recipes. And when you're looking for new cake recipes, there is no need to look any farther than the blog Sally's Baking Addiction, which has never let me down.

What didn't let me down last week was the recipe for Blueberry-Lemon Layer Cake, which was sheer, delicious perfection. It was pretty simple to make and got rave reviews from all who sampled it. Make sure you find the heaviest, juiciest lemons to maximize your "three lemons' worth of zest and juice" flavor punch, and be sure you garnish or decorate with fresh blueberries. Here's how to make:

BLUEBERRY-LEMON LAYER CAKE

For the cake:
1 c. unsalted butter, softened to room temp
1 1/4 c. granulated sugar
1/2 c. golden brown sugar
4 large eggs, room temp
1 T. vanilla extract
3 c. all-purpose flour
1 T. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 c. buttermilk
Zest & juice of 3 medium lemons
1 1/2 c. fresh blueberries
1 T. all-purpose flour

For the cream cheese frosting:
8 oz. full-fat cream cheese, softened to room temp
1/2 c. unsalted butter, softened to room temp
3 1/2 c. confectioners' sugar
1-2 T. heavy cream or milk
1 tsp. vanilla extract
pinch salt

Preheat oven to 350. Spray three 9-inch round cake pans with nonstick spray and set aside.

Beat butter on high until creamy, about 1 min. Add granulated and brown sugars and beat on medium-high until creamed, about 2-3 mins. Scrape bowl as needed. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat on medium speed until combined, about 2 mins. Scrape bowl as needed. Set aside.

In a large bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients. Beat on low speed for 5 secs., then add the buttermilk, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Remove mixer and stir lightly until just combined. Toss the blueberries in 1 T. flour and fold into the batter. Do not overmix.

Spoon batter evenly into prepared cake pans. Bake for about 21-26 mins. or ntil a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. (Mine took 23 mins.) Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely before frosting.

To make the frosting, beat cream cheese and butter on medium speed until smooth and creamy, about 3 mins. Add sugar, 1 T. cream/milk, vanilla extract, and salt while mixer remains on low. Increase to high speed and beat about 3 mins. Add 1 more T. cream/milk to thin out, if desired.

Stack cake layers and frost between and on top and sides. Frosting recipe makes just enough to do a light coat. Garnish with fresh blueberries. Refrigerate at least 45 mins. before cutting, and store in the refrigerator up to 3 days.

How parenthood and the Internet made me love science for the first time

I never particularly loved school (aside from the extracurricular activities, of course), but I was always a pretty good student. English and math were always right up my alley, and I even passed "hacky sack" in P.E. ca. 1994. But science and me? We've never been such great friends, I have to say. Admitting and embracing my intellectual limitations and right-brain-dominance, I have always been more than willing to blindly accept the fact that things like electricity just work, rather than having someone explain to me exactly how they work. (I kind of glaze over, to be honest. You should feel sorry for my poor engineer husband.) I appreciate that my attitude is pretty selfish and anti-intellectual. I will own that. I just wish that it made me the worst kind of unscientific person. But I'm not even close.

You see, I think I always took it for granted that most non-science-y people were inclined, like I am, to trust science-y people on issues of, well, science. But the modern prevalence of online communications has given us all a terrifying glimpse into how our fellow humans' brains actually work, and it's pretty ugly. Like, "I dislike facts" ugly. I may have gotten a C in high school chemistry, but I have always been a fan of facts and accepted them for what they are.

It was actually the simplest, dumbest thing in the world that sent me over the edge last week. Someone innocently posted a funny image on Facebook, a commenter linked to Snopes to show that the image is a hoax, and the original poster responded with an appropriate, "Oh, shoot. I'm sorry!" No problem. This kinda stuff happens all the time. The truth was documented, and we're all the wiser. End of the conversation, right? Wrong.

It's what happens next that always gets me. The fact-haters start speaking up in the comments:

Oh, come on -- it's funny! Seeing the humor makes life more pleasant.

I'm just going to go ahead and choose to believe this is true because it's so hilarious.

Why are you ruining the fun by pointing out that it's fake?

It's as though people now take it as a personal insult when others point out evidence, facts, or any of those other silly things that I used to think were universally valued. And the false-equivalency attitude that fact-free opinions deserve the same respect and attention as actual, factual evidence might be the thing that most makes me want to pull my lower lip over my skull and cry in a corner in the fetal position. Like when Bill Nye the Science Guy has to debate the creation museum dude. Or like when I was told in an online discussion group recently that I would have to "agree to disagree" with a woman who'd just implied that vaccines cause autism. Whatever happened to the notion of "You're entitled to your own opinion, but not your own facts?" That's apparently "out" now. We're living in the age in which people aren't held back by their own lack of knowledge.

Hey, I admit that I have made a conscious choice to be part of the online parenting community and that there are inherent risks in doing this. A lot of them, actually. I've privately lost my mind more than a few times dealing with discourteous people who think the world revolves around their children and activists who for some reason think it's a heroic cause to insert their noses into the issue of how other people feed their babies. Bottom line: There are certainly a lot of people out there raising their kids without facts. And while it makes me sad, I try not to make it my business. Until it is.

I am absolutely, 100% entitled to be angry with people who live in my community, don't vaccinate their children, spread their B.S. around, and then send their kids into public spaces with my kid, putting him and others at risk. I am absolutely, 100% entitled to be angry with Alicia Silverstone for using her celebrity status to write a book telling depressed new mothers that they wouldn't feel like committing suicide if they'd just eaten more vegetables.

These fact-free evangelists are actually killing people. And for what?

I guess that's why now, approximately three years into my adventure in the online parenting world, I have seen enough, am officially angry, and have taken it upon myself to learn more about scientific research methods, even if I am still not 100% sure how my blow dryer works. Because now that any person can be an amateur scientist or any celebrity mother can write a medical book, apparently, we all have to be armed with facts. Real, meaty, lovely facts. And we can't be afraid to share them with people.

Why, no. Having your pregnancy induced does not increase your chance of C-section.
Why, no. Breastfeeding your baby won't actually make his IQ higher.
Why, no. Herd immunity isn't a myth.
Why, no. Guns DO kill children.

For many years, it was considered bad practice for doctors to participate in social media. But staying away from the discussion may have been the worst practice of all. Today, when you search for parenting information online, most of it is bad information. If you need someone to tell you breastmilk cures cancer or how to sue the government because your child definitely developed autism from a vaccine, you can find him or her. What's really missing from the online discussion are the voices of evidence-based medicine. I'm glad more and more medical professionals are starting to insert themselves into the discussion -- including our own pediatrician, who recently started a blog to distribute accurate information for parents. The more we get, the more likely we'll be to heed it and ignore the crazy stuff.

Then maybe next time a father "googles vaccines" he won't get information that scares him out of a tetanus shot -- making a decision that nearly kills his son. In the battle between facts and the Internet, the Internet is winning in a big, scary way. But me? I'm cheering for science to become cool again.