My home's art has themes of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll: is that okay if I have a child?

I love the artwork in my home, and I've never given a second thought to the themes of sex, drugs, and rock and roll in my collection until having a child. Now that my husband and I have welcomed a little one into the world, I give more pause to the content of our collection and future art purchases.

Will the large print of Brigitte Bardot with a cigarette carelessly dangling from her mouth make my son more likely to take up smoking? Could the Mcbess drawings of scantily-clad ladies lead him to objectify women?

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Future apologies from the first generation of parents with a digital paper trail

Dear sons: it has occurred to me that I am the first generation of those who will leave a digital paper trail. This means that every withering status I've posted about parenthood, every unflattering baby photo of a catastrophic nappy explosion, every snigger posted online about a missing tooth, or eating your Halloween sweets after you'd gone to bed (major dick move, genuinely sorry), or self-deprecating comment about it all just being too damn much will be available to you some day. Your IT skills already intuitively surpass my own. So in advance, I am sorry.

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How the Aziz Ansari accusation highlights differences in consent among the generations

I've been a fan of Aziz Ansari for years. So when I saw his name pop up in the headlines attached to a sexual encounter, my heart dropped. The issue wasn't whether she was believed or "right" for me, it was how responses in the media seemed very much divided by age. And where we go from here when it's not a cut and dry issue of power structures, but rather how consent is dealt with between all of us. Here's how I'm seeing responses in the different generations…

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Fairy princesses can be mighty girls, as long as we don't shame them first

My daughter wanted a "fairy princess birthday party," so I was making wands out pink glitter-glue and pipe cleaners and cutting the crusts off fairy bread while obsessively refreshing my Twitter feed for more news about the extent of Weinstein's depravity. The invitation to her party was a photo of my daughter wearing a tutu and crown, Photoshopped to make it look like it appeared in the pages of a storybook. She loved it.

After the invitation went out, I received messages RSVPing to the party, but they also asked a question, the same one over again: "Are you okay with this?"