Daniel isn’t circumcised, for no other reason than this: when I was half-crazed with post-birth hormones in my hospital bed, the idea of causing any more pain to the little guy was enough for me to say “No” to circumcision.
I felt pretty good about that decision, until this past week when my mom, who babysat the little guy while I was stuck in a late evening faculty meeting, said when I came to pick him up, “He’s not circumcised? Oh, no, that’s not good.” And then she began to regale me with how difficult it would be for me (and then, later, Daniel) to keep his parts clean and not infected.
I got paranoid enough that I started to regret my decision of over two years ago — that is, until — YAY, Internet! — I found plenty of information that personal hygiene for an uncircumcised little boy is really no big deal. Since all of my male family members got the surgery done as babies, I had no way of knowing otherwise, good or bad.
I know my mom means well — having raised four kids and doting on her two grandsons — but this is absolutely the case where I should trust my own mother’s intuition.