DADWAGON

I’m having a very hard time figuring out just how this all fits into the format of a dad-blog, so I’ll talk instead about a note I got from a very smart Russian-American writer I know about our baby-yoga ruckus. He was commenting that that one place where baby yoga didn’t seem to be tearing up the internet was in Moscow itself.

…the reason it’s not as big a deal in Russia is that it’s, well, not as big a deal in Russia – I mean, as you well know, 250 crazier things are happening there this very moment.

That was, of course, true in a general way last week (Snob.ru’s parenting blog, which interviewed me last week, has also been covering a much more pressing issue: scandals in Russian orphanages). But if there were 250 crazier things happening in Russia last week, there are 251 now: Moscow was attacked today. The apparent suicide bombing killed over 30 people waiting for arrivals at Domodedovo airport in Moscow.

This bombing felt a little close for me because I had Moscow penciled in on my calendar for mid-January. And though I usually fly into Sheremetyevo Airport, I could’ve been coming into Domodedovo (reportedly one of the international flights that was landing was from London, which is a common-enough stopping point for a Russia trip from NYC). The trip I was going to take was postponed, and will likely shift more (or less) because this attack itself is big news and changes a bit of any story planned for Russia.

But the thing about this terror attack is that it was designed to hit close to home. Not just in Moscow, but in the U.S. and everywhere there are people who fly for work or pleasure, anywhere there are parents who kiss their kids at night and say I’m leaving before you get up in the morning, I’ll see you in a couple days. The metro attacks in Moscow last year, which I wrote about for Time, didn’t quite achieve that universality, because the stage for the terror-theater was so quintessentially Russian–the baroque, cavernous Metro stations built by Stalin. But Domodedovo’s International Terminal, which used to be a sad, Soviet warren of smoke-filled halls and linoleum floors, has been upgraded with Russia’s new wealth, and looks much more like the airports that everyone everywhere uses.

You don’t have to watch this video if you don’t want to, but this clip from inside the smoke after the attack is striking because the waiting area looks so familiar. And not just to people who go to Moscow, but to anyone who goes to airports. The video isn’t graphic (there are bodies but no blood), just eerie.

And there you have it: a reminder that we can discuss baby-swinging and elimination communication all we want, but terrorists want us to think about them and their deeds instead. After this post, I promise to dishonor them by returning to our usual child-manic pablum.

Matt typically is the one to file the ain’t those foreign daddies something strange? posts, but I’ll give it a go anyway. I’m in Jerusalem for the week, doing research for a book I’m writing about, uh, Jews. (I pause because every time I write something about Judaism on this site we get a lot of “why are you singling out the Hebrews?” comments.)

I don’t know that I have much to say yet about the Jewish style of fathering. I’m spending some time later in the week with a couple of ultra-Orthodox families, and in case you didn’t know it—they make lots of babies. Perhaps I’ll have some insight after that, but for now, I’d like to focus on somewhat older Jewish babies: the soldiers.

I knew that there was compulsory military service in Israel, and I also knew that the soldiers are typically just out of high school. What I wasn’t prepared for was the sight of so many young people in uniform but in casual contexts: on the trains and buses, in cafes, wandering around the cities. There’s no real reason for it, but I was shocked to find myself seated next to what looked like a 10-year-old special forces corporal (probably 21) on the Tel Aviv–Jerusalem train, his iPhone in one hand, and a fricking automatic weapon in the other (and it was pointed at me—the ambivalent Jew)

Aren’t they supposed to keep those things down? No one else seemed to mind (maybe because their lives weren’t in danger), but it made me very uncomfortable.

So, my first sweeping generalization about Israeli parenting: they don’t teach their kids good lethal-weapon manners.

More to follow.

Just got back from a weeklong trip to Las Vegas, and all I have to say is this: There’s nothing like walking in the door to find an ecstatic toddler calling your name and giving you a big hug.

Don’t worry: This sappiness is just part of jetlag. I’ll be back to normal soon.

It can sometimes feel like a lot of parents these days follow the same script, with only tiny deviations. Perhaps it’s because we’ve all read the same books. We all had the same sense of indignation at Tiger Mom, the same vertigo while watching Russian Yoga Mom.

And then comes a comment like this from PrimalMama this weekend, in response to our Lena Fokina interview, a comment that glides in from an alien planet where babies are… well, read for yourself:

To all the horrified American mamas:

What about the terrible tradition of FORCING your baby to eliminate waste on themselves? Do you ever stop to consider how terrible and harmful that is to the baby?  You don’t think that the baby would be much happier and less stressed if you would communicate with your baby and allow them to eliminate waste away from themselves like any respectable human wants?

Should I go as far and say that any mother who forces her child, be them 1 day or 1 year, to wear a diaper should have her child taken away and charged with inhumane acts to a baby?

Get over yourselves and see the big picture….

My God. What I have been doing to my children?