When its too hot to think

So we have the air conditioner on. But it's still stuffy in the house. And humid.

Window units just don't feel like central air. They don't work. They simply keep you sane. But you can't cook inside with them on. You can't drink a cup of tea. You can't sleep with a blanket. You simply can sit and listen to them hum. You can't watch tv because they are too loud and you can't hear yourself think.

If it wasn't for the wee one we would just sweat it out and at least hear the night crickets...but its just a tad bit cooler with them on, so we sweat.

She's asleep. Daddy's asleep. The dog and cat are asleep. And I'm awake. It's just not comfortable. So I came downstairs to write, to think, to read a bit of Heidegger before bed. And I realized that Heidegger is just too much when it is too hot. He makes my head hot.

So I poured some old wine over some ice cubes with a lemon twist. It's like a bad sangria...and I sewed some pants that needed hemming. And now I'm back on the computer. And I'm thinking.

I'm thinking its a bit too hot to think...but I have to use this time, when I'm relaxed and the house (except for the hum of the window units) is quiet.

Blissfully quiet.

Ok Mr. Heidegger, whatz ya got?

A Judgement

I try not to judge mothers. Motherhood is challenging and however one gets through the day with the child safe and happy, I'm all for it. That may mean that some mothers stay at home with their children all day long and do nothing but cuddle with them. It may mean that another mother goes on mommy and me trips all week long to Yoga, to Swimming, To Music. For some mothers it may mean handing the baby over to Daddy as soon as he comes home from work.
And for some mothers it means scooping the child up as soon as she gets home from work and giving her a nanny a big hug as well. And for some it means hiring a nanny so that she can up to her home office and write her article or finish her artwork or file a legal complaint.
And for some mothers it means hiring a cook or a housekeeper so that she feels sane. Whatever works.
For me, it means trying to juggle a lot of that myself and cuddle as much as possible!

HOWEVER... and I realize that this is an opinion:

I do not understand how a mother can hire a housekeeper, a nanny, a gardener, a cook, and a driver and still consider herself A STAY AT HOME MOM. Yes, she can consider herself stay at home...but a stay at home MOM! You do have to do SOME parenting at SOME point during the say.....I continue with the conversation that sparked this recent judgement:

Fiona and I often walk up to the nearby Starbucks when the thermometer goes above 86 (that seems to be our house breaking point).

Yesterday, FATHER"S DAY, we overheard some lovely dressed woman coming back from YOGA class. They were lamenting about how they didn't have the TIME to find a new housekeeper and driver for their young children. I put some of the conversation down here:

"I mean, last week, I had to skip both Yoga and Cardio to schedule two different interviews. And I was planning to go to the summer house in Vermont next week, you know, a week without the stress of the children, but I think that if I can't find a driver I just won't be able to go!"
The woman next to her replied, "I know, it takes so much time, and you really have to be careful about who you let DRIVE YOUR CHILDREN!" (my bold face)
She continued, "I had to fire my last housekeeper because she was getting her PhD and I really think that she put more effort into that work than my house."

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!!!

Fiona and I had to leave and brave the elements before mommy whipped out her sarcasm in a public place which currently employs the breadwinner of the house.

Seriously, parent as you will....but if you decide to have a child...please spend at least a few moments a day with them!

Work

I read this blog called, dig this chick, thanks for the recommendation KB. I like it. I like her pictures, I like that she has her business and considers herself a working mom at home. She recently posted an entry about how her house is never picked up, she always has 8000 things going at once. So she decided to post pictures of how her life/job/kids/home all mesh together. Her pics are better but here's my entry:



A pile of laundry, a cooing baby, a computer cord, my cereal bowl, and a bathtowel from trying to dry my hair that never got put away.

In any case, I've been going back and forth about thinking that parenting is a job and how I also have another job of writing this dang dissertation (I need a name for that thing!).

I think however, that I'm going to come down on the side that parenting is not a job. GASP! Can I dare say this, just after the night where I accused (wrongfully) Daniel of not pulling his weight? (he so does, I was just exhausted and the little one just wanted to lay on mommy and make her hot and it really didn't make sense for her to cry for mommy while I went to Home Depot and dropped off a propane tank too heavy for me to lift, so he went out and I stayed in and whined a bit with her)

ANYWAY, I DIGRESS.

But it can't be a job. It can't be about divvying up chores and sides and mornings. I've been trying to squeeze in writing time between Fiona time and it wasn't working because it made Fiona a chore. It made parenting a job-something to get paid for.

But we aren't paid for it. Writing is the job. Parenting is my life (or at least an aspect of it). I'm still not sure how it all fits together. But I do know that I can't squeeze her in or squeeze in writing. It has to be about having a job (writing) and then coming home or coming back to my life, a new one, this parenting one, but MY LIFE.

And it means I can't accuse anyone of not "doing" something because I can't make a chart out of it. I can't manage it. I can't simply hire an employee to do it for me. It's not a job.

Oh yeah...I'm 30!

I just wanted to say that this marks blogging for me for one year! Which means I'm 30. Wow.

I just read this letter I wrote to a scholarship committee for undergrad at Transy (side note: Daniel and I just cleaned out a BUNCH of papers that we had been lugging around for 7 years...lots of recycling opportunities).

ANYWAY

In that letter I said that I wanted (mind you that I wanted to do all this before I was 30)

-discover a cure for heart disease
-save wild dolphins
-earn a degree in biology
-live in a foreign country
-have a family

1 out of 5 isn't bad, right? (and please don't laugh at the cliches, I grew up in suburban Ohio -I'm lucky to have survived with any imagination whatsoever and I credit that to my parents who forced me outside to play).

It is so very funny how our "so called bucket lists" change as we grow....I do still want to live in a foreign land though -one with health care, vacation days, and access to good wine!

In any case this is all really a lead into a priority that I always had but never really understood the practical consequences of until experiencing them. I've always believed -without understanding- simply intuiting- that there is a place for being a woman who has a family, who falls in love, who giggles in dresses but who also thinks and does things.

Which means it's not about whether one works at home cleaning the laundry or writing a dissertation or whether one goes to an office. For me, it is about how one's doing and thinking and children and dressing and giggling are all part of a person who has to -for her sanity- make sense of it as one person, one human being.

It's not a project that one can check of a list. Feminism can't be achieved -it is a life long journey- a practice.

Back to Work

Hello Fragment 54!

Back to work. Fiona and I left you at 2 weeks because...well, Fiona decided that life was more important than a blog. But now she's almost 9 weeks old, practically grown up (or at least grown out of her newborn clothes) :)

I can't imagine only having had 6 weeks to learn how to do this thing called, parenthood and specifically for me, mommyhood. At that point I was just finally feeling recovered physcially, we were just starting to go to bed at a regular time, and there wasn't even a glimmer of routine to our days.

It amazes me that children and parents aren't afforded more together time in our society. We place so much emphasis on our children getting a good education, finding the right home in the right place, making sure that they hang out with the 'proper' people....but childhood itself isn't prioritized in our country. We simply are making sure that our children progress quickly into adulthood which means, at 6 weeks, forcing moms back into the workforce, forcing 6 -week babies into a childcare routine, and forget about what we do to daddies...who are forced back to work before the baby has barely opened her eyes (so he gets baby time when mommy is exhausted, baby is tired of mommy, and daddy is stressed from work)!

Instead of finding a place for childhood routines in our lives we are forced to put childhood into our economic routines of livelihood.

Last week I was stressed. Fiona doesn't take a bottle, refuses a pacifier, and (last week) was just barely pushing 3 hours between feedings). I was so overwhelmed because I just felt that at 7 weeks she should be doing all this stuff....I mean, what if I were forced to leave the house to go out for work.....

And then I snapped out of it (after some hours/days of worrying on some phone calls)... Because I am lucky, I don't have to go away to work...my work is here, writing. So, I took away the bottles and made the pacifier simply an option. I focused on pushing her a bit between feedings (because its good for her) but we followed her naptime schedule.

And lo and behold, this week we are onto a routine. Not every day and not perfect and there has definitely been some screaming and crying (and not only by the baby) But she's happy. And believe it or not, I worked on the freaking dissertation....and I'm happy. We go on walks in the morning, we sweat it out under the air conditioner and do yoga in the afternoon. I write when she is playing by herself. I check email and blog when she needs me to entertain her.

(the dog is getting a little bit ignored...I'm not perfect yet...and Daniel still comes home to a messy house and sometimes little in the way of dinner...but that's getting better)

But gosh we are so darn lucky....because we are going back to work on our own terms....and not some arbitrary 6 weeks decided by government committee.

Now, if only daddy could join us!