Karma, baby!!

There is no escaping it, not for any of us.

I hope you've read my post on Feminism. It mentioned Madonna's influence on what an entire generation of near sighted, admittedly self-medicated women decided to call "liberation".  Where all you ever had to think about was yourself and what you felt like at that very moment.  You were worth it.......etc. Not to look at it as a systematic destabilization of the world as we knew it, but as blazing new paths into the world of working, and leaving your children with, well, your mother.  Or someone.  Someone you would pay to watch your children so you could get a job and make some money.

Shortsightedness is the first thing you give up when you become a parent.  Also, selfishness, sleep and gray areas, but I'm wandering again.  These things will be stolen from you in the night when you sleep.  You don't even realize they are gone until you start to throttle someone who doesn't sterilize the pacifier/bottle/toy properly before they give it to your newborn baby.  And it only gets worse from there.

I, being just a little younger than Madonna, was over her after I tuned into her HBO Special for her Blonde Ambition tour. I had just become a mother, and found myself, for the first time, on the side of the "parents" instead of the "children".  It was horrible, but it was also one of the necessary steps into parenthood.

Even though I only had an infant, I could not abide having him in the same room where an American woman would subject her viewers to simulated ( I think it was simulated) masturbation, let alone accept the fact that I would pay to see it. Frankly, I simply didn't feel that I had ever done anything to deserve being treated in such a way. To take that thought just a bit further, I was hard pressed to imagine what could have happened to Madonna in her life that would make her have to stoop to such levels. I knew her mother was dead, but still wondered what kind of family would be able to brazen this kind of thing out. It cannot be denied: no matter what they had or had not done within their family, it didn't look good.  I pitied them. I pity them still.

Consequently, it was also the end of my HBO subscription. I've never looked back. I don't spend a lot of time doing that. It's kind of a rule of mine.

I couldn't help but share this, which caught my eye today:

Madonna Feels the Same Intrusion She Foisted on Parents for Years

Now, I can vividly remember learning that Madonna was pregnant. I was standing in Trenton Missouri's Hy-Vee and saw it on a magazine cover. I immediately laughed out loud. The lady in front of me, a stranger, looked around to see what had caught my eye and we had the funniest conversation about how poor Madonna was probably frantically trying to buy up copies of books, magazines, CD's, you name it, in preparation for becoming a mother. "How would you explain that??!!" we howled. The clerk chimed in that there was no way she would ever get it all back.  

Obviously, that was true.  What she did instead was try to isolate her children from the world.

When I think of her these days, I wonder if, like all parents, she thinks far enough down the road to wonder at what kind of positions her own children will put her in?  How much responsibility does she take for the world they live in?  I pity her.  I pity them.  The circle is complete, but circles never end.

Resume? Seriously? I'm a mother--I can do it all

I am so excited that Mrs. G commented on my blog that I'm floating. 
She is a very savvy woman, and she brought up the supreme point that her years spent mothering make a crappy resume for employers.
I know where she is coming from.
But the employers are wrong.
I've had three paying jobs since becoming a mother, and let's just say that while the titles were different the jobs are all about the same.
All the jobs have required me to be pleasant, whether I feel pleasant or not, organization, decision-making, and drudgery.  Most importantly, though, all the jobs have required my mothering skills, especially that last one.
The most valuable skills I learned being a mother were these: distraction, negotiation,and re-direction.
These skills are in constant use due to the simple fact that I work with other people.
I work for one of the few places left in America where you get a real person to answer the phone.  We pride ourselves on this when it's a customer that calls.
Sadly, about 30% of the calls I answer these days are from recordings.  This is not a good plan from a practical standpoint if you want people to listen to you. Most of them come from collection agencies who have been smacked down (by yours truly) for calling a business phone during business hours and don't want to get fined again.  Apparently there is some loop hole that makes it not count if it's a recording that violates that rule again and again.  The others are seasonal and usually from political candidates.  Of both parties.  I have sent all offenders strongly worded e mails.  They haven't seemed to notice.  Yet.  The money spent of these calls and the trash they send through the mail is one of my personal targets to de-fund.  But I digress.

So, with all these calls ringing in, none of which are usually for me (just like home) things can get kind of hectic.  If I hadn't been following up on all those kids all those years, I would never remember to nag remind my "people" of all the appointments they need to keep and calls they may not have remembered to return.
I also try to keep some candy around all the time.  Guess where I learned this?  This way, if someone comes up and is having a hard day you can listen quickly, throw some chocolate at them, and send them on their way.  They are usually so happy to see the chocolate they don't realize you are hurrying them on their way, and if they do, well, the chocolate serves as a happy distraction and they forgive you.  They will be back, it should go without saying, but you are there everyday anyway and you just never know what a day will bring.  Chocolate is never inappropriate.
Also, people sometimes come in the front door.  Not a lot of people who shouldn't but the occasional new salesman.  To my eternal consternation, we now have companies who send people out to find new customers in areas that are already serviced by these same companies.  It is pretty hard to be the one to break it to the enthusiastic new recruit that we already have a representative, yes, from your same company.  It's very embarrassing for them. I have to help them through the moment when they realize they have wasted their time, energy, and possibly money to work for a company who either doesn't know, or doesn't care that they are sending them on a fool's errand.  It's not easy.  Kind of like the first time your child figures out they have been played for a fool.  By a jerk.  Chocolate does not hurt in this situation, but you have to walk a tightrope because clearly you are not being paid to comfort strange salespersons.  A cheerful tone of voice and the assumption that there must have been a mistake is the quickest way to get them moving right back out the door again, hopefull with their pride intact.  The repeat offenders I give the old "firing lasers out of my eyes" look.  I assume you remember this look from your own mother and it need not be explained further here.  It is a universal look recognized by all, not least traveling salespersons.  Hilariously, this works much better on men than women.  Women think they can see my laser eyed look and raise me a business card.  I take it, give them my steel door look and ask if they have anything they would like to leave.  They fold, but not because they are weak, because they are smart, and recognize steel when they see it.  That may just be the last dregs of my hope for women not to embarrass me anymore talking right there.  So be it.  I grew up nurturing that dream and I'll go down nurturing that same dream.  Along the way maybe someone will notice.

With all that going on, I am also expected to do actual work, fitting it in around the phone and various and sundry persons coming through the front door.
Now, anywhere you have people you have personalities.  These are not carefully examined and matched before you go to work (although that is a great idea), so you have to muddle through the best way you can.  My method is to try to just skip along the tops of the waves and not get too involved.  Failing that, I try to keep my mouth shut and keep working.  This is not a hugely popular choice, except for with the people who actually pay you.  I take it as a mark of my mothering skills that I can get up and walk down the hallway, sending people skittering back to their desks behind me.  This is a most valuable skill, and one that all mothers have.
Recently we had someone fall on the ice in the parking lot.  Every mother in the place went to see the victim, checked their eyes, asked if they felt nauseous and warned them to tell us if they felt sleepy.  There was no need to consult a book, we mothers knew what to do.  The victim recovered just fine.
One day the toner broke all over the floor.  Did I stand around and wait for a janitor to clean it up?  Don't be silly, I am well acquainted with the business end of a shop vac.  Years of cleaning floors qualified me to take control of the situation immediately.  It was less mess, if you can believe it, than most of the meals my children flung to the floor.  And I got paid to clean the toner up!  Win-win.
Somebody's in a bad mood, somebody's sick, somebody's sad, somebody's excited and can't concentrate.  Am I talking about my own breakfast table in the morning or work?  What's the difference?  One I not only get paid to deal with--I am not emotionally involved in!

I am telling you, if you want a good employee who shows up most every day, who can and will roll with the punches, who is not above doing the dirty work, and who is used to doing all this for free, hire a mother!  Mothers will not let you down.  Mothers will not shirk responsibility.  Mothers keep a drawer of candy for the bad days.  Most importantly, mothers intuitively recognize the shortest and simplest answers to any question, and are not afraid to implement it, giving you peace and quiet so that you can get some work done. 

The old bait and switch...feminism revisited

My impressions of Women's Lib, straight from the front.  I was there, man, just young.

Feminism.  What does that mean?  Good question these days.

I was born in 1965.  I can vaguely remember the women burning their bras on TV.  I just got a glimpse before my mother turned it off.  She shrugged it off as something "the hippies" were doing.  I asked why people would burn bras they had paid money for.  She said that they were protesting because they didn't think they should have to conform the natural shape of their bodies with foreign objects.  Those were not her exact words, of course, I was 7 years old.  I don't remember her exact words, but I do remember a little history lesson that started with corsets, hit girdles somewhere in the middle and ended with bras, burned in a dumpster.

I should mention now that my mother never, to my knowledge, went anywhere but to bed without a bra.  I should probably also mention, because in my opinion, this MATTERS on this subject:  my mom actually had boobs.  Good ones, which get plenty of attention WITH a bra on, thank-you-very-much.  I am pretty sure they must have all been small boobed women, those bra burners.  Or high.  Maybe they were just stuck at home with the kids and would take any opportunity to get out of the house.  I wouldn't really know.  I was at home with my mother, who explained what she could about the movement but never waivered in her conviction of what a woman is.  Or the wearing of her bra, either one.

I wonder who watched the kids while they were burning their bras?  Probably their mother's, who were at home doing what women had always done: raise children and making a home.  I figure those mothers were probably thinking "get real".

Next was the Equal Rights Amendment, that resulted in nothing ,for decades, but a whole lotta arguing and a new name for laudry detergent.  I love the irony there.  It was supposed to make sure women got paid the same as men for doing the same work. The "same" work was never satisfactorily defined.  At the time, my mother "had" to go to work, as was her right after she was left with two small children.  Her husband finally left her to run off with another woman.  I think she was a woman, although a legal definition of "age of consent" may need to be consulted to tell for sure.  Never heard if she wore a bra or not.  Mom got a job at a bank, where she was not allowed to wear anything other than a skirt or a dress.  Of course she wore a bra, too.  I'm pretty sure they would have frowned on liberated sorts who didn't.

I do not remember hearing discussions of who would watch the children if the women went to work, but I'm sure they were going on.  Maybe they were figuring their mothers would do it.  I also do not remember hearing discussions of what would happen when those children got sick, but I'm sure people were discussing it.  Or, they may have just figured that their mother's would do that, too.  Because they always had.  When you decide to change the way things have always been, there are a lot of variablesI suppose it's hard to be prepared for.

What I brought out of the whole experience was that girls were supposed to be equal to men, and get paid the same.  That is pretty general, I know, but I was about 10 at this time.  Honestly, I have to say it sounded good to me.  I already felt I had been somehow devalued, not to mention being defensive about it, which must have been part of their plan, but it was years before that would occur to me.

Flash forward 10 years, say 1985:

We girls are all prepared to have "careers" and make all this money, only we still don't get paid the same amount as men.  We are pissed about this.  A lot of us aren't married because we don't feel that we have been indoctrinated to look down on women who feel they "need" a man.  We are also of childbearing age now, and oddly, the pill did absolutely nothing to decrease unplanned parenthood.  Since we would be working, we would also be sending our children to daycare, where they will get sick, necessitating the missing of work to take said children to the Dr.  We are missing getting paid, but we have to come up with extra money for the Dr.  and the pharmacy. 

It occurs to me that this might have a little bit to do with the fact that we don't make as much as men.  Most of the men have a wife, mother, sister, someone to do this for them.  Free.  I'm pretty sure that's because no women actually trust any men to take care of small, sick children.  In any event, those damn men hardly ever miss work.

Madonna arrives on the scene as a pop culture icon. 

Everybody starts getting boob jobs.

Oh, and anti-depressants are everywhere, and you are not to feel bad about taking them, either.  It's not your fault you're depressed.

I wonder if this was what the bra burners had in mind.  I think they are doing it wrong.  I solidly stand behind their RIGHT to do it wrong, however.  I mull over the fact that boobs have been the biggest source of money coming to females since........there have been women with boobs.  I think some things never change.  I think someone needs to GET REAL, but I am no longer sure whether it's "them" or me.

Instead of the ERA passing, we got something called "affirmative action", which was supposed to be good not just for women, but anyone of "minority" status.  I vividly remember having a discussion of this with grown adult (around 40 years old) at this time.  The adults were against it, because they said it would end up with people having to hire people because of their gender or color of their skin, which would be bad.  I said that that was just silly, it was to keep people from holding any gender or color issues against you.  They said "GET REAL", they are going to tell us who we can and cannot hire!  I said that would be stupid.  NO one would ever hire a people who weren't qualified, that would be stupid!!!  Then, I am pretty sure I stomped away in a rage, as teenagers are wont to do.  They probably rolled their eyes and lamented my lack of vision.

You see, I could not concieve of a time when what I thought of as adults would ever NOT be in charge.  I also, and this is a luxury not available to the youth of today, was sure that common sense and justice would always prevail in America.
So, I would like to take this opportunity as an adult to apologize to the adults of yesteryear because I have to hand it to you:  YOU WERE RIGHT.  You know who you are.

Some kind of war between working women and stay at home moms begins.  Also at issue, oddly I think, is nursing in public. 
I mean, GET REAL, women have been nursing babies since....women have been having babies.  It's what the ever popular and lucrative boobs are actually designed for.

At any rate, now women, instead of being attacked by other groups, feel free to attack each other.  I think they are doing it wrong, and suspect their mother's are saying "I told you so".
Flash forward 20 years:

All the old rules seem to have been thrown out, along with most of what you would recognize as music.

The little girls who were raised not to compare themselves to or aspire to be Barbie dolls have steel in their faces, ink from one end to another and instead of worrying about careers, just make sex tapes or become pop stars.  Which is now the same as porn, by the way, FCC rules for tv having gone through a liberation of  their own.

Thanks, Madonna! (Who wears big caricatures of bra's incidentally.  Coincidentally?)

 I still do not negate their RIGHT to do that, but I'm wondering what kind of parent (mother) they have (Madonna?  No, you may be surprised to know that she is very strict with her children.  They don't even watch TV, probably for obvious reasons), and what kind of life this is going to make.  I conclude that they are nothing but a cash cow to their parents, who must not be able to conceive of the notion of "nurturing" or "protecting innocence".

We have court cases because, of all the firemen who are eligible for promotions, the ones who get hired have to be black, and none of the black ones could pass the test.  What to do???  Thanks affirmative action!

We have women serving in armed forces, despite having children, and soon will have openly gay people there too.  I wonder who is raising their children.  Not just the women's children either.  This being the age of equality, gay people are going to have the right to get a job and leave their children for someone else to raise also.

On the upside, women finally gain a little in the battle to make as much as men.  Woot!  Woot?

Boob jobs and plastic surgery have reached a saturation point, so begins the long and no doubt painful backlash.  Products said to remove tattoos flood the market.

It occurs to me that when you tell kids they can be anything, they believe you.  As proof, transgenderism abounds almost as much as diagnosed cases of ADHD. 

You can get any kind of drug you want as easily as going to your Dr. and requesting whatever the commercial said repeatedly right before the long and horrifying list of side effects.  Except anitbiotics.  There remains no black market for them unless you can get some for your pet from a vet.   At least, as far as I know.  If I hear of any I will be sure to let you know, though (wink wink).

Where does this leave us?

Beats the hell outta me!

All I know for sure, is this:  the children have to be taken care of and it's usually the women who do it.  I do not mean to take away from what a father brings to the equation.  Perish the thought.  Children need both a mother and father, working in tandem.  One of them needs to be with the child constantly when it is small and cannot take care of itself.  Traditionally, this has been the mother, due to the boobs. 

We have the right to do just about anything we can imagine now.  It pains me to see young girls being encouraged to devalue themselves. And being in some gansta's rap video is not something to be proud of. You can blame drugs, tv, hippies, almost anything and be a little bit right about how we got into this mess, but it seems pretty clear to me that nobody has been taking care of the kids for the last several decades.  That cannot and should not be taken lightly.  I think everybody should do whatever makes them happy.  I just always assumed that personal dignity would always be the natural, unanimous choice of women.  I think they're doing it wrong. 

What have we gained? 
What have we lost?
When are we going to get real?

Feel free to comment.  You are anonymous unless you choose not to be.

Mothering is a two way street

Two and a half years ago The Beautiful Redhead was my oldest child at home, the Grand Finale had turned 11, and life had kind of settled down to a routine that I was able to keep up with.  My kids were out of the "little" stage and I could come home and actually sit down, even LAY down, on the couch if I wanted. 
I had been through the stages of early motherhood, where I was driven to have everything perfect, or at least as near as possible to perfect as I could get it, and thought everything needed to be clean and put up at all times.  Four kids will get you through that stage a little faster than one.  I do not have any science (!) to back this up, but you can take it from me that it is true.
I noticed, though, that now that I *could* take it easy, that's all I ever did.  My house wasn't as clean as it used to be, true, but it didn't NEED to be as clean as it used to be.  And Lord knows the kids didn't appreciate or even seem to notice if I did clean it.  I was drifting, so to speak, and was not concerned that I was going in a bad direction.  I just noticed the change.  As women at a certain stage of life tend to do.
Most of my life it seemed like "life" was something that was coming at me constantly and it was usually all I could do to keep up with it.  Now there seemed to be a lull, time to look around and actually see what was going on instead of having to react to crisis situations all the time.
The Beautiful Redhead was working with a girl who had just had her first baby and, kindly, had offered to babysit said baby so her co-worker and her husband could have a night out.
I suggested the co-worker bring the baby to our house so I could supervise, as The Beautiful Redhead had a heart that was very kind, but not a lot of practical experience with newborns.
Well.
That baby's  name was Abigail Lea and she was three weeks old the night I met her.  This night was also positioned in such a way that it was the first time I had had a newborn baby all to myself (pretty much) in YEARS.  I held that baby all night.  I unwrapped her and counted all her tiny little fingers and toes, I inhaled her captivating scent, I rubbed my face on her sweet little head.  I laughed and cried and talked to her all night. I rocked her and sang all the old songs I sang to my own babies.  I flat fell in love with her. 

The Cyclist was a little nervous.  I think he thought I had lost my mind.  Luckily, I was thinking enough to make him smell her head, and she got him too.  Oh, he pretended to hold out, don't get me wrong.  When she got old enough to toddle over and lift her arms to him he would put up his hands and say "No, no, we're not having any of that", which of course fascinated her (as he knew it would) and made him a challenge to her.  She had never seen anyone who was immune to her charms before.  I pretended I didn't know that trick and let them establish their own rapport.
We have been her willing slaves ever since. 

Because I noticed that if I was going to have that baby I would get off the couch.  I would clean.  I would pick everything up off the floor and make sure I had food that she liked in the house.  I *had* to, for that baby.

It occured to me that without my realizing it, I had finally grown into the woman I had wanted to be, but never felt like I really was.  While I wasn't looking, I had gotten over all the longing and yearning for "someday, when the kids were grown", and become absolutely content and proud to be exactly where and what I was.  I had left my own selfish wishes behind, without regret, only to embrace being the nurturer that I used to resent having to be. 
I had gotten goooood at it.  I could do this.  Whether that baby projectile vomited all over me and my house or got choked, I knew exactly what to do.  And I could even ENJOY it, because I wasn't the least bit scared anymore.

Being a mother will do that to you.

When you see a woman mothering a child, you may think she is taking care of that baby.  That's what it looks like, and she is taking care of that baby.  But holding and nurturing that baby is taking care of her also.  It's a two way street, and one that had no set route.  You figure it out as you go, accomodating each other along the way. Because of this love you will move a mountain or get down on your knees to scrub the floor, whatever it takes, for as long as you need to.  Not because you have to.  You don't, actually, have to.  You do it because you want to for that baby.  And you would do it forever, for them.  And they don't have to be your own, either. This is the miracle of putting someone else's welfare ahead of your own.  I believe it is tantamount to having an honorable life.

One morning I watched that baby wake up, look over and see the Cyclist, and very carefully lay her sweet head down on his chest.  He knew enough not to move a muscle, and she went back to sleep right there.  I also knew that had never happened to him before.  I cried.  I think he went back to sleep but I know it's one of those moments that he will never, ever, forget and that it touched his heart in a way nothing ever had before and probably never will again.

This is the kind of thing children give you.

And that's how I got a pretend grandbaby.

She commands us with a merciful hand.  She doesn't ask for much.  She laughs and smiles and claps her hands if you have, say, a bananna in the house.  Or a boiled egg.  If you take her to Wal Mart, she throws her hands in the air in a "touchdown" salute and says "YAY"!  She spends a lot of time in the tub with bubbles and her toothbrush.  The world is a better place for having her in it.  These days her first question upon getting to "MiMi's house" is "Where's the boyeez?" 
Those boys, who were my babies, now have a little one who thinks they are 10 feet tall and stronger than superman.  They give piggyback rides and wrestle and give her old video game controllers that don't work. The fact that she doesn't know that, and thinks they hung the moon doesn't bother anybody one bit.

And we are still rolling along, I'm still cooking and cleaning and have finally gotten comfortable with crayon marks on the walls and stains on the couch.  Why?

Because I know what's really important.

My best advice, if your kids are older and you don't have grandkids yet, is to go out and find a pretend grandbaby of your own.  There are plenty of mother's out there that could use someone they could trust to watch their child, even for an hour or two.  I do not believe you will ever regret it.  In fact, I believe it will be good for not just you, but the child, the mother, and ultimately the world.



PS.  For the people who are following my e cigarette journey, I skipped the "medium" cartridges and went straight to the "low".  I think I smoke more vapor at at time this way, but haven't had any more or worse cravings, or noticed any fallout from "stepping down", so next time I buy cartridges I'm going to get the water vapor only with no nicotine.

Can you believe this?

I just had to comment on this.  It will relate to some posting I want to do about the subject of "feminism" and what in Heaven's name that even means today.
This is Helem Bonham Carter and the outfit she wore to the Golden Globes.  Now, I am for everybody being happy.  Whatever that takes, as long as you don't hurt anyone but possibly yourself, I say it's your business. 
Having said that, I have to say this:  Helen is either into the Judy Garland Trail Mix OR this is the equivalent of an actresses "Up yours, Hollywood!" moment.
I did not watch the Golden Globes, but when I saw this outfit I laughed out loud for 7 or 8 minutes. Is the strap dress supposed to do that?  Do you see the two different shoes????  I mean the whole thing is a disaster, but the shoes!!  THE SHOES!!
I strongly suspect they could make a hilarious movie out of the story behind this outfit.  Probably even the day and night proceeding her putting this outfit on.  I would give anything to know what her exact words were when she got it all together and looked in the  mirror.  Do you think she DID look in the mirror?  Did an assistant get fired over this?
If this is her way of thumbing her nose to the waste and shallowness of awards shows, Helen has new fan.
If she was just having "one of those days" and decided to say "hell with it" I still admire her courage.
Either way I have to check her out further. 
And you can't BUY publicity like that outfit guarantees.
So I am calling this an epic success, regardless of what the fashion police say.  Truly laugh out loud.