I Work at a Toy Store. I’m Terrified By What Parents Keep Buying.

Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here.

Dear Care and Feeding,

I work in an independent toy store, a job that I deeply love. We have toys for all ages, but recently I have been having a big dilemma regarding toys for toddlers. At the store, we have many fantastic products for kids under 3 years old, all of which comply with U.S. safety standards (and many that comply with stricter European/U.K. safety standards). Of course, the biggest factor is that these toys don’t have small parts that could pose a choking hazard. But parents, grandparents, and friends of kids under 3 are often drawn to toys for slightly older kids—toys that don’t meet the same safety requirements regarding small pieces.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’m complicit in creating an unsafe and potentially deadly situation by knowingly selling these toys to families with kids under 3. I understand that many 2-year-olds are past the stage of putting everything in their mouths, and that ultimately, it’s the parents’ call whether they think something is safe for their particular kiddo. But sometimes folks with kids as young as 1 will buy toys with obvious small parts that have clear warnings on the labels. I never recommend these toys to these families. Following my boss’ lead, I usually gently point out that the toy has small parts and isn’t recommended for kids that young, but they almost always buy them anyway. I don’t know if the parents don’t understand, don’t care, or if they genuinely think their kid can handle these toys without trying to chew on them. I don’t want to insult anyone or imply they are a bad parent for giving these toys to their kids, so I drop the subject after one gently worded suggestion. But I want to scream at them that their baby could die if they choke on a tiny bead or screw!

I’m young and I don’t have a huge amount of experience with kids this age. But 1 seems awfully young to be taking your chances. What is my obligation here? Do I need to be more vigilant about warning these families about choking hazards? If it’s an aunt, uncle, or friend purchasing the toys, I’m a little more relaxed since I assume the parents will take a look at the toys before giving them to the kids. But with parents and grandparents, I’m more worried. There’s also the issue of the store’s bottom line—sales numbers aren’t amazing right now and I don’t want to lose sales or chase away customers by telling people not to buy things (I don’t work on commission but our team is small and we all care about keeping this toy store open for as long as possible). But obviously, children’s safety is more important than making the sale. What should I do here?

—Choking Back a Warning

Dear Choking,

I appreciate where your heart is with this question, but this is something you’re going to have to let go of. Assuming that these choke-able toys are indeed going to the tots you see in the store (in some cases a sibling or cousin may be the actual intended recipient), the unfortunate truth is that people are going to make all kinds of parenting decisions that you, the vendor, cannot control. And if you were more forceful in these situations, where would it end? Should you refuse to sell a bike if they aren’t also buying a helmet? Should a waiter stop a parent from ordering a soda for their toddler? Should action figures and marble sets be prohibited for kids with younger siblings? I think you see where I’m going here.

You’ve done your due diligence advising the parents about the toys’ relative appropriateness and danger. Hopefully, the children you’ve encountered will be fine with these toys; and if they experience a near-miss, then the parents will be more likely to heed your advice next time. Ultimately, you have to trust (or at least hope) that the majority of parents will make decisions in their children’s best interests. As unsettling as it may be, this is one of those times when you have to let it go, because you can’t control other people’s actions. As the saying goes, not my circus, not my monkeys…

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Dear Care and Feeding,

I’m genderfluid and pansexual, 17 years old, and currently dating a girl. My parents do not know, since the last time I suggested that I might be dating a girl, they flipped out, as I’m biologically female. How should I navigate this situation? When I bring up other friends I have that are LGBT, my parents are fine with it. But when I make the slightest hint that I’m not straight, both parents lecture me on how I am, despite the truth that I am pan and genderqueer. So how should I deal with this issue, respectfully, and without driving friends or family away?

—Please Help!

Dear Help,

The first question I’ll ask you, as you consider what to say to your parents, is: Are you safe? For some parents, it’s one thing to know gay people exist in the world and be OK with it, but it’s another thing to have an LGBTQIA+ child. So, I’m going to write my response assuming that coming out to your parents would be a safe option to consider—just know that you don’t have to come out if you feel it puts you at risk. It doesn’t make you any less authentic.

The next question I would ask you to consider is, naturally, whether you want to come out. If you’re not sure, I’d suggest starting with a conversation about their past reactions. “Mom, I was thinking about that conversation months ago where I suggested I might want to date women, and you and Dad seemed pretty certain that I was straight. I’m just wondering: Why was that was your reaction? You’re fine with my gay friends.” That kind of conversation doesn’t obligate you to disclose anything (even if they ask you point-blank, you can deflect), but it can give you some clues as to what they’re thinking. With that additional context, you may feel more equipped to devise a plan for coming out, or you might decide to just ask them to lay off the judgment and assumptions for now.

If you feel the time is right to come out to your parents, spend some time talking to others who have done this before. You might also check out PFLAG or the LGBT National Hotline, where you can talk through your questions with trained professionals. I also found this WikiHow article surprisingly insightful in coming out as pan (it’s written by a licensed social worker). It mentions that you might need to be prepared to explain (and re-explain) what pan and fluid mean. Queer terminology has changed and expanded a lot since your parents grew up, and they may not be fully aware of all the gender identities and sexual orientations there are. Be patient and don’t assume from the start that ignorance equals bigotry.

Ultimately, how much you disclose to your parents right now is entirely your call. There is no right or wrong way to do it. You can also ebb and flow with how transparent you are with your parents, regardless of whether you come out. This is about doing whatever will help you lead your safest and most fulfilling life.

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Dear Care and Feeding,

My husband and I have several children. We didn’t plan any, but we also didn’t try to prevent it. It was very “let life determine it.” We’re extremely happy with our family and our current situation, and he agreed he’d get a vasectomy when we were done. I didn’t realize when he went to his yearly that he was serious about getting a vasectomy referral. I was told it would be a few weeks for the consultation followed by a minimum week for the procedure. But for my husband, it went from discussion to done in under two weeks!

The thing is, we never truly had a conversation about being completely done having kids. I’m partially OK with this and knowing I’ll be able to focus on my career and whatnot. However, I feel I didn’t truly get a “vote” and he just decided for both of us that this was it. Although I understand his reasoning, I’m extremely upset and he doesn’t seem to understand my side. We never truly agreed this was our last baby and I honestly feel robbed in a lot of ways! I’m looking for any advice you’re willing to give!

—Miscommunicated or Misunderstood

Dear M or M,

Is the disagreement about his unilateral decision on timing, or is it about being officially done with kids? Those are related grievances, of course, but if the answer is “both,” then it’s no wonder you all are having trouble untangling the situation, because it’s really complicated—you’re fighting a battle on two fronts. And since you’d already informally discussed the vasectomy as a future step you’d take, that is probably adding to the confusion.

In these situations, I tend to advocate for writing a letter to your spouse. It allows you to share complex ideas and be vulnerable without feeling put on the spot with your partner. It’s too easy in a disagreement over hurt feelings to become defensive or feel like you need to prove your point. A letter removes that pressure. Plus, you can write and revise it over a few days, which not only ensures that you’re being clear, but also helps you process your feelings. Once you feel like the letter accurately conveys your feelings, ask your husband to read it. He might then be able to more fruitfully talk to you about the situation—or he might write his own letter about it!

If letter writing doesn’t help you two work things through, seek the help of a professional marriage counselor. They can guide you in rebuilding your communication and trust, and also help you grieve the end of childbearing, which is a real thing for many women! In fact, regardless of how you and your husband repair things, you still might want to find a professional to talk about this transition in your life. There’s no harm in that if it will help you feel at peace and prepared for your next chapter.

Dear Care and Feeding,

I am struggling a bit with how I’m “supposed” to handle custody, in light of my past experiences. I am now divorcing my second husband and we are great with custody! Literally, all the working-together boxes are checked off. I know this because I’ve already had an extremely contentious divorce that resulted in me being a single mom to two kids for eight years. Their dad saw them when I brought them to him and he had zero decision-making power, due to his own horrible decisions. Now I’m navigating the split custody with my recent ex, and he is great.

The dilemma I’m facing is that there isn’t one. I’m used to fighting tooth and nail for kids and feel kind of lacking now. Am I still a good mom if I spend half the week (we are 50/50) with my boyfriend and half the week with my daughter? It’s truly weird to feel like I’m looking for a problem, but I can’t help feeling like I’m skating off into the sunset half the time, when I’m used to doing 95 percent of the parenting. Is this being lazy? For the record, my daughter is happy with the arrangement so far. My ex is now seeing a family friend who has kids of her own and I like her just fine. My partner has no kids and doesn’t ever expect to. We are all in our late 30s to 40s. Is it just being paranoid to expect an eventual fight and worry about laying the groundwork to “win”? What does that even look like?

—Getting Along or Giving Up?

Dear Getting Along,

Divorces can be amiable! I’m sure it feels weird after a highly contentious one, but it is a gift to have a positive, respectful relationship with your ex (and their new partner, too!). Please don’t go looking for trouble and shoring up your “case” for whenever things get contentious—that is a surefire way to cause drama, not prevent it.

Regarding your daughter, you are not slacking as a parent if you only spend half your time with her and if you enjoy your “off” weeks. Enjoy away! My guess is that your first divorce and custody arrangement cemented your self-identify as a dedicated, committed provider to your kids. It was born of necessity, but probably later became a source of pride for you. Now that you don’t have to play that role for your daughter, you are scrambling to identify what kind of mom you are—because your past archetype is no longer needed. I totally get that. I’m not divorced, but I’m a widow, and there are times when I feel an intense determination—almost defiance—to give my kids my all, in spite of life’s circumstances. You almost feel like you have to prove that you don’t need your partner, and that you can do it all and be it all for your kids, and you’ll all triumph in the end. (Cue fist pumps.) It’s a compelling narrative, but it can quickly turn into martyrdom if you aren’t careful. Being fully present for our kids doesn’t mean being with them 100 percent of the time, and successful motherhood is not determined by what you sacrifice of yourself or what battles you wage for them. Yes, these can be ways we act on love, but they are not the only ways.

You are not in a battle this time around, and you don’t need to fight for your child. What if you decided that instead of laying the groundwork to win some mythical future fight, you would commit yourself to cultivating this blended family of love and support? In essence, you’d be fighting (metaphorically) to keep the peace and give your daughter a lasting example of the many ways to be a family. My fellow Slate-ster, Jamilah Lemieux, talks a lot about this kind of approach as a cohost of Slate’s Care and Feeding podcast, and you can get the feel of her 50/50 parenting style here. If you ask me—and you did!—that’s how you’re “supposed” to handle custody in a situation like yours.

—Allison

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