Why have kids?

I took a little break from blogging to enjoy the last days of summer with my little one before ...gulp!... Kindergarten. We had some wonderful times and it was with wistful feelings that I let her go. She's doing great, though.

This is kind of long and maybe a little rambly, but just trying to sort out thoughts while fresh...

This week I read Why Have Kids? by Jessica Valenti, the "poster girl for third-wave feminism." And while I disagree with a lot of what's in the book, she's not wrong.

Why Have Kids is a bit of compendium of what's been going on in the momoshpere the past few years. Valenti's got Linda Hirshman, she's got Elisabeth Badinter (here too), she's got Erica Jong. She talks about attachment parenting, the anti-vaccination crowd, breast vs. bottle. In case you missed any of that. She references Babble, Blue Milk, Jennifer Block, Megan Francis, Katie Granju, Rikki Lake's Business of Being Born and even The Feminist Breeder.

What's just a little bit different about Valenti, though, and what makes her and the book so likable for me, even though her assertions go against my own experience, is she thinks what she thinks and expresses it, but is open enough to admit that other ways of doing things are understandable—which is kind of the place I've come to after five years of parenting. For example, Valenti calls Jennifer Block's book, Pushed, "wonderful," and sincerely was into breastfeeding, pursuing pumping valiantly as her preemie did time in the NICU. I was moved by her tenacity and totally get why she'd be mildly snide about lactivist rhetoric, even as much as I am a proponent—and huge fan—of breastfeeding. I have no idea what it's like for it to be hard to breastfeed and so I have to take Valenti's recounting of her experience for what she says.

It was bothersome, however, when Valenti attempted to minimize the benefits of breastfeeding a la Hannah Rosin, citing Joan Wolf. I can appreciate something being hard, something not working and a person making peace with it. Breastfeeding is not the be-all-and-end-all, of course. But don't be delusional and say things like formula is "just as...healthy a choice as breastfeeding." I often feed my kid breaded fish filets. They're easy and she likes them. But I don't think they are just as healthy as say, quinoa with kale, or something.

I also am conflicted about the idea that "Women Should Work," presented as a "truth" in Valenti's "lies" and "truth" structure of the book. Women should work if they want to (and of course, if they must). I don't like the idea of infants in daycare. I have a real problem with it, really. I understand, of course, that people do what they have to do. It's when they don't have to do it that it bothers me. Of course, I know it's not my business and I accept that. I would just never put a child under 2 (and that's the low end) in daycare unless it was absolutely necessary for the family's survival. At the same time, I don't like the idea of women who want to work having to give up an important part of who they are, not to mention some modicum of financial independence—just in case. I get it. I had the unique situation of being able to be really hands on 24/7 with my baby while doing satisfying work and earning enough to get by on my own (at least temporarily) in the unlikely even that we were left alone without my husband, and so I can't honestly be too hard on others for their choices (and besides, as I said, it's not my business). But, what I would push for is not necessarily affordable infant daycare (preschool, sure) but subsidized maternity leave, more part-time work/job sharing, more teleworking, an acceptance of bringing pre-crawlers into the office, and on-site daycare for older babies.

So I think in some ways here my views intersect with Valenti's but I'll never ever be gung-ho about daycare for infants. See, I disagree with another of Valenti's "lies," that "Children Need Their Parents." Most especially they need their mothers as infants and then, yes they do need their parents. The real idea behind Valenti's assertion is that kids need more than just their parents, I think. And of course I agree, for older kids. My daughter benefited greatly from going to preschool and being in the care of other adults for a few short hours a few days a week. Now she's doing well in Kindergarten (as much as we can know after a week). But really, I was the big influence in her life during these first most formative years and that's the way I like it. I've written before about how important a mother's influence is to a girl and how the nuclear family (another thing Valenti likes to point out is being phased out) establishing it's own sense of being a "tribe" is. This is not to the exclusion of others, this does not mean we don't have friends or are not part of a diverse community, but I think it's important to imprint on a child early on "who we are" as a family. I think it enables them to go out into the world and glean things from these "others" while remaining firm in who they are.

I liked when Valenti discussed the trope that motherhood is "the hardest job in the world" because I've always felt it's not a job at all, but a relationship. (I could have sworn I blogged about this before, but now can't find any reference to this idea, and someone else has ran with it, to much acclaim...) I don't expect pay and I can't be fired! My performance tends to fluctuate according to my mood and circumstances much more than my performance in the work I do professionally. It's just not even in the same realm as paid work, and I would never want it to be.

So, that's why I say I disagree with Valenti, but can see she's not wrong. Can anyone be wrong about this stuff? How we cobble together our lives is very personal and who among us doesn't create an a la carte life, picking and choosing elements of many paths and philosophies to fit what's best for us? It is her approachable voice and her openness to the idea that some stuff (breastfeeding, AP, staying home) may be OK for others, even though it wasn't for her, that brings such great balance to the book. She somehow manages to do it without seeming wishy-washy.

I'm coming from a different place, though. I guess I could call myself an essentialist. I fully embraced that, as a woman, with the baby having grown in my body, having come from within my body and having been fed solely from my body for the first 6 months, that I would be the primary when it comes to my kid. I fully expected this and I didn't have a problem with it at all philosophically and not much in practice, either.

Sure, there were many times I was tired and worn out from mothering an infant (then toddler, then preschooler—each age with its distinct challenges) but the deal was I'd stay home with her and do my consulting part-time and my husband would stay in his job and be the primary wage earner. I won't lie, there were times when the menial tasks, things like having to pick up toys all the time, got on my nerves. I really didn't like "playdates" til my kid was old enough to have a friend over sans mom and I could actually use that time to get things done. But I always felt like I was doing something important and right by being home with her for these earliest years. As our kid got older, my husband has taken on a more hands on, bigger role in parenting, but I'm still the primary when it comes down to it, and I think I will be til the day I die. He's a great dad. That's just the way it is for us. Sometimes I feel under-appreciated by my husband, who expresses a little envy at my getting to stay home all day for these early years (forgetting how I often stay up til 1 am getting client work done after having had to do kid stuff during the day). But, all in all, the years I spent at home with my young child were golden to me and now, on the edge of ramping back up job-wise with my kid in school full-time, I'm feeling nostalgic already...they went by really fast.

I suppose young women today can't be blamed for not being in touch with themselves as "natural" women (something feminists today seem to so hate the idea of). We live in a world where many of women's most natural characteristics and functions are reviled. There's no magic in menstruation, many women wax or shave themselves into nearly hairless fembots, it's no wonder many are put off by breastfeeding or find it gross. Eww! Female body fluids! Yuck! Very sad, actually, but I can't blame the young women, it's the culture they're raised in. To me, it's a failing of feminism that it is this way.

So, I don't personally get why so many women, as described by Valenti, seem so surprised at the work involved with—and discontented with the reality of—mothering a young child. And many of these are women who use daycare and don't even deal with said children all day long.

Maybe it's an age thing. At 40, I'm seven years older than Valenti and maybe older than many of her "ilk." I had my kid at 35 and had plenty of fun before that so I wasn't bent out of shape by the idea that I wouldn't be able to go out without the baby for a while if I was going to do full on breastfeeding, no pumping and that kind of thing. I really didn't want to "go out" for the evening at all during my kid's earliest days (OK, year...) It wasn't because I was depressed or a hermit or anything bad, it just wasn't where I was at at that time. I was into the baby.

Or, it could be my blue collar roots—I don't have the expectation that life should be easy and I pretty much thank my lucky stars every day that I have a white collar consulting job, as middling as it may be, it's not backbreaking and I enjoy it. And I am super thankful that I had the good fortune to be at home with my baby.

Who knows? Valenti describes a status quo wherein women are sold a bill of goods about how blissful it is to have a baby and then face the "truth" of how much it can suck. I mean we all have bad days, but yeah, lowered expectations, people!

For all the distancing of themselves from what felt (and feels) so natural to me (birth, breastfeeding, wanting to be with my small child most of the day) that many contemporary feminists seem to do—whether because they truly don't feel that pull, or because they have been well-taught to turn their backs on that pull in the name of the cause—I wonder why some of them do have kids at all, then.

Valenti argues that there is still a strong cultural expectation—assumption even—that a woman wants to, or will, have children. This is somewhat surprising to me in this day and age and I am prone to disbelief, but again, since I'm a woman with a child, I feel somewhat unqualified to tell other people what they feel who claim to experience this pressure. But, if you're a strong feminist who doesn't want kids, you won't cave to the pressure, right? Maybe again, some people just don't know what they're getting into, I suppose and just go for it. That's kind of what I did and it worked out.

I have to say I didn't think deeply about it before going forward with having a baby. I had kind of given up on even getting married to some extent right before I met my husband. I wasn't at desperation age yet (only 29) so I can't say for sure, but I think I was actually OK with not getting married anyway. I was kind of just floating through life, trying to earn a living, have a good time and that was that. If I met someone, great! And I did. And it turned out we talked about it while dating and he wanted kids, well, one kid, anyway,  was what he said, and I was like, sure, fine, whatever. That's what some people did, right? They got married and had a kid, or kids. So, why not me? Do I sound really vacant or stupid for putting it that way? Maybe. But I bet lots of people are that way.

In the same way I didn't think deeply about whether to have a baby, I didn't have an idea of being the "perfect mother" that seems to be a big theme for discussion (Valenti cites Judith Warner's book, Perfect Madness). We hear so much about all the pressure moms are under to be "perfect," but really, is that pressure truly there? How much of that is put on people by themselves because of an initial amount of hubris to even think in the first place that achieving perfection is possible? We see "perfect" women, actresses, supermodels, on TV and in the movies and yet most of us have come to terms that we just need to do the best we can to stay healthy and that those people are professionals and or anomalies. So why can't we understand that perfection in a relationship (remember, being a mother is a relationship, not a job) is an unattainable—and vague—goal? Some feminists argue a deep-seated, almost conspiratorial agenda is in place to keep women down by playing with their minds to focus them on this perfection in parenting, but I just don't know. Aren't we all smarter than that by now?

My favorite line in Why Have Kids? was: "The truth about parenting is that the reality of our lives needs to be enough." And, of course, this is right on. Only when you embrace the imperfection can you begin to appreciate the tender beauty of parenting. And we all have different realities, it seems.

 

Be present, be pleasant

Recently, I had a good talk with my mom on the phone. I think I must have been having one of my Iced Grande Americano-induced anxiety attacks. That, and I was feeling whack about the Affordable Care Act—not so much the Supreme Court ruling itself and that it was going through, but the barrage of comments on Facebook, Twitter, and such (there they are again, those awful, peace-destroying culprits) either gloating or complaining. That, and just general confusion, malaise, et cetera. I felt the weight of a confused, noisy world, closing in on me...alone in my boring suburb.

Now, if I had any will power (or sense) and had stayed the fuck off Facebook, like I was supposed to, maybe I wouldn't have had the mini-breakdown. I really, really must break the habit. Mostly there are banal things that give a little chuckle, which are nice, but come so cheap. Then there are the "spirited debates." I usually end up feeling...not right...worn down...something...wrong after them. Do I go on because I crave adult interaction...some...any connection with someone out there? I should be better, stronger, and more thoughtful than that. After all, I have a husband to connect with in the evenings. And I have a child who is pretty bright and interesting here most of the day. I also have a mom, reachable by phone...

So I called my mom. Usually I keep it light. I want her to think I have it all together, but this time, I actually cried. Just crazy dumb stresses, nothing major, except life.

I asked her about her philosophy on life, though not in so many words. I asked her about how she manages with the little anxieties. I asked her, what would she do, though, if she were in a really bad situation, like, like, like....a concentration camp. My mom is wonderful. She didn't tsk or act like it was an extremely weird question. She just answered, "Well, I would just try to not be part of the problem for anybody. I'd try not to make it any worse. I'd do my best to just be nice, be pleasant."

She extrapolated that advice—just be pleasant—to life in general, not just dealing with a concentration camp.  Wow. It really is that simple, isn't it? I mean, a cynic could say that's kind of Stepford-ish, but when you boil it down, it really might be a good way to get on. "Yes, I was watching this show with these two chefs, just bantering about the food, the recipe, and I thought to myself...they are just so...pleasant," she said. No strife, no drama, no point to prove, no cross to bear, no shoulder chip. Just pleasant. I know, I know, life can't always be like that and we can't always "be pleasant" but, if one is experiencing dissatisfaction with how they feel, how their world is being received by their mind and soul, how they themselves are acting out then, why not just try?

Be present, be pleasant.

I had thought I'd try out meditation. I'd heard so many great things about it. So, having ordered the Pema Chodron CD set on how to meditate, which is live and actually supposed to be like being in a real class, I set out to do this thing. It just was not for me. It wasn't that I couldn't just sit there and do nothing for 10, 20...60 minutes. I kind of could. She even allowed for the wandering monkey mind. No judgement. No "you're so bad because you can't focus or blank out your mind." It wasn't like that at all. You're supposed to just accept the thoughts and let them go. I don't know.

The thing that annoyed me so much about it was that the prescriptions seemed so academic and self-straining. You're supposed to sit a certain way. Your eyes are supposed to be cast this or that way (can't really remember). That there are actual instructions for this kind of killed the "tao" or flow or whatever for me. I'm better off going for a run and letting my mind wander, seriously.

I think the goal of meditation is to be in the present and be mindful. Wouldn't the very best practice for that be just doing it when you're doing what you would do anyway? So, that is what I am going to try and do. Make my life a meditation.

Be present, be pleasant.

My crack theory on why so many women are so nutty

UPDATE: I hope that the reader can tell by the tone here that I am referring mostly to diagnosing myself and only a little bit to the blogger I linked to. In fact, I can understand why many people would suffer from anxiety disorders in this day and age, and this latest article I came across goes into some of those reasons. In mild cases like what I've experienced, laying off the caffeine and making sure I get in a good sweat make a world of difference. I do understand that others may need more help. I'd love to see changes to the system rather than everyone just getting dosed up on Rx drugs, though.

ORIGINAL POST: In general, American women need more exercise, more sex and less coffee (or caffeine). And for some, they may be better laying off the web a bit, too.

This has been in the back of my mind for a while. A LOT of women take mood drugs. I've thought about it but something has always kept me away. And I'm glad. Now, it's not because I am anti-drug...at all. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe that I don't want to go through the clinical process of "talking to someone" to get the drugs (one reason I don't smoke pot, other than it being illegal, is that it was too much of a hassle finding and connecting with a seller). Maybe I just recognize that going deeper and actually solving problems is better for your head than slapping a chemical band-aid on it? Maybe there's no overarching reason and it's just my personal choice, or happenstance. But, here I am, Rx drug free.

I've struggled with anxiety and depression though, albeit mild, I suppose. My awareness of anxiety came to a head for me last week when I connected some dots and discovered that Iced Grande Americanos totally give me acute anxiety attacks. I mean, it was so extremely causal for me, it could not have been more clear. I guess that racing, fun feeling I used to think was so cool (or still do on a day that I have fun, easy plans and don't get too deep into my head) actually can spin the total wrong way under other circumstances. So, caffeine=problem for some in higher concentrated doses, or when piled on and on to more caffeine. I wonder how many other women are affected by caffeine in this way?

I'd also remembered reading (can't find the damn article now) about how many women don't have sex anymore (or masturbate, apparently) and so aren't getting the release of orgasm, or other relaxing chemical cocktail that can come from cuddling up, kissing, etc. with your man, even if you don't have an orgasm (though the orgasm is preferable to not, of course). I admit to being "too tired" or too pissy sometimes to want sex with my husband, but I usually get the job done on my own as needed. I wonder if maybe this would help some of these women with stress and anxiety issues? Aside from the masturbation, I'm working on being more selfish and taking what I need from the man, even if he leaves his underwear on the bedroom floor and crumbs on the counter. Why spite myself?

Then yesterday, I read this opinion piece about how everyone's "so busy" (you hear this a lot from women, moms, and then you hear about all the lessons, playdates and volunteer activities going on and you get a headache just listening—well, anyway, I do...) Sometimes I think people schedule and take on a super lot because they're afraid of what might come up if they do nothing. Or they feel they have to justify their existence.

So today I read this post from The Feminist Breeder. God bless her, but she needs to get the hell off the coffee (I hate to vilify a seemingly innocuous substance, but, if you're prone to anxiety, caffeine probably doesn't help), get the hell of the Internet (more on this coming) let her husband fuck her (she did that, finally, it seems) and not pack her life with so much stuff. But, she does have a rocky childhood and I'm not doctor, so my blurted out opinion can be taken with a grain of salt, of course. It just seems that if one still hasn't given up caffeine and started to exercise and eat right and do non-pharmaceutical interventions in earnest, it's too early to go to the meds. And it kind of goes without saying now that you need to exercise, damn it!

I also think maybe all this "socializing" and "sharing" on the Internet contributes to some women's anxiety—and depression. She writes "When people on my facebook page started going OFF on me because they found out that I shopped at Walmart, I still had a massive panic attack at the thought of opening my computer to their nastiness..." So, don't open it! I know, I know. We're all addicted to facebook and the Internet. But, if it's between anxiety and/or depressive freak-outs or somehow breaking the addiction, what are you gonna choose? Another drug?

I don't think people understand that prescription mood drugs are hard core chemicals...fucking with your brain. And, what about all those awful side effects? And, what would you do if you were stranded somewhere and didn't have your meds? Hell, I think about that with my contact lenses! I always like to think, shit, if I was stranded on some far flung place, I don't want to be that conditioned to anything or in need of a thing so bad that that would mess with me surviving or keeping it together in the bad situation. My contacts, though...(note to self: research LASIK).

Holiday to a deserted island

I've decided. I'm taking a holiday to a deserted island. On this island I will meditate, read books, get to know my husband and kid better and just take a break from all the bullshit. So yeah, husband and kid, not truly a deserted island, and of course, I may see friends and neighbors and such, but the idea is I am staying off Facebook and Twitter for the month of July, and starting a little early, today.

This will be a challenge. Eschewing Facebook, I won't be able to post about my many adventures, how I am taking my kid to see Brave tomorrow, how we're going to the beach, how we're going to see fireworks and it will be my kid's first time. But, I also won't get in frustrating discussions about breastfeeding vs formula, the Affordable Care Act, or having to scroll and scroll and scroll through countless inane pictures of cats and ugly babies saying trite things with poor grammar. I'll miss others' posts about timely news items, the awful state of the Supreme Court, banking systems all over the world, corrupt churches and child molesters. Since I get a lot of tips on news items from my Twitter feed, I'm staying off there, too.

I worry about not being informed, but this is only for a month (for starters) and it's summer. I'm supposed to be sipping cold drinks, vegging out poolside and enjoying long, lazy days with my family, right? Right?

I will, of course, still have to work for my clients. Gotta pay to keep the AC running, after all. But, this is a much-needed break to heal my hamster wheel brain and cleanse my sullied heart. I feel tainted by my angry, contentious thoughts when arguing points with friends, even if we keep it civil (some can't even do that). I feel like a hypocrite reading Pema Chödrön and the Dalai Lama and then pounding out points meant to take someone else's view down.

Often I listen with half an ear to a story my husband is telling me about his day or something he read or heard, while I read the latest "mommy wars" article, or learn of yet another non-fiction book I must read, or form my latest counter argument in some online debate. The other day while running our local trail, I saw a couple in their 60s strolling and it hit me—someday it's going to be just me and him again and so I better keep in touch with him. We share a physical space, responsibilities, bills, sex, but honestly, my consciousness is more often keyed into to drivel on the internet. How ridiculous is that? My focus should definitely be on my life partner who I am supposed to be in love with!

And, of course, I won't even start on how I need to pay more attention to my child because that is so obvious.

So, if you'll excuse me, my plane is now boarding!

How much do older kids need a hands-on mom?

My last post talked about how other cultures relate to their kids, as described in the recently-published book, How Eskimos Keep Their Babies Warm—And Other Adventures in Parenting. One of the things that struck me was how moms in many cultures get more "hands off" as kids get older—sometimes as young as toddlers. I should mention that there's a chapter, too, on the academic success of Asians, wherein the parenting could not really be described at all as "hands off," and that's an interesting facet to the discussion of parenting older kids. But first, I want to explore the hands off, free-range thing a bit.

Via a tweet from Dan Savage, I came across this post from Susie Bright's journal—Teenagers Can't Seem to Have ANYTHING At All - The Big Lie Behind the Mommy Wars—in response to the unfortunately titled Atlantic article, Why Women Can't Have it All. (I say "unfortunate," because to me it's not about women "having it all" it's about the importance of society supporting mothers being in real leadership roles in government and business to ensure balance.)

I remembered Susie Bright's name from some sex books my husband had and was intrigued.

In her post, Bright makes some really interesting points about Anne-Marie Slaughter's problems described in her Atlantic piece—namely her "troubled" teenage son—and suggests that more attention within the confining paradigm of the traditional parent-child-school relationship is just what the young man does not need.

"I hope you and your husband aren't going to wear him down, do endless hours of useless homework with him every night, medicate him, diagnose him with god-knows-what. If you follow that path, you will end up with an adult child who wants nothing to do with you, who hides everything that's important to him." Bright warns Slaughter, continuing on about her own experience as a homeschooler/unschooler.

She advises, "By the time you have teenagers, here's what you need to be doing:

• Putting tools in their hands
• Getting them access to the things they want to know and pursue
• Breaking down the barriers they experience as disenfranchised youth
• Encouraging intellectual and physical adventures they take the lead on
• Being there for them while they break a few dishes getting it right"

And all that sounds really good to me, the only problem is it's not entirely clear whether Slaughter could really do all these things and keep her high-powered career or not. Bright's idea that teens need to fly free is a cool one, but the free flying sounds like it, too, needs a bit of orchestration—just how much orchestration is the balancing act that would determine whether Slaughter's choice is to be so easily poo pooed as doting mothering.

Indeed, Bright leaves unanswered (as of right now) a reader's question: "I'm just wondering how an un-schooler can have a job let alone a career? Why you assume that less well off people don't feel being there for there kid is a worthwhile aspiration? I certainly aspire to maintain a good, close relationship with my child and no, not coddling, just a real genuine knowing of each other, something which requires time together. Getting those barriers you speak of out of the way often entails dollars, and as a poor, working, single mother who has no choice but to send my kid to the stupid factory the options are slim. Yes, my kid's school sucks, but I don't see a way out of the situation that doesn't involve more money or time than I have."

Of course, Bright was talking to Slaughter, to whom she says "Your family has a million bucks, literally, and could make that happen: get the barriers out of the way."

But, what about the rest of us? Is being a mom to an older kid a "full time job" or not? I am going to say it just can't be. I mean, my whole plan was that I was going to do this intensive infant/early childhood mothering and let gradually let the child fly, so I can't see myself spending all my time orchestrating learning experiences for my kids for the next 13 years. (Maybe that's not what unschoolers do, I'd have to read more on them.)

And, what about people who live in places that actually have good schools (which, right now, I feel like we are)?

Still, after reading about cultures in which seven-year-olds are caring for babies, ten-year-olds can fish as well as adult men, nine-year-olds are doing beautiful embroideries and such, I am inspired to think that, given just a bit of guidance, kids can do so much more on their own than most American parents let them.

Lots of questions here.

On one hand, I like to think that the more you pour into your kids the earlier in terms of molding them and creating an attachment to your family and the sense of a family tribe, the less difficulty you'll have when they are older—the more you will be able to let them go free, with the knowledge that you've imprinted them with what they need. But, is that being naiive? As the mother of a now five-year-old, I just don't have the experience to know, so I have to wait and see.

Making parenting more 'adventurous'

Want to keep your kid up pall night? Have the neighborhood school kids look after your toddler? Don't feel like playing with your kid? It's all good. Other people do it! Maybe not your neighbors, but other people int the world. Just read How Eskimos Keep Their Babies Warm—And Other Adventures in Parenting.

This totally refreshing "parenting" book (I'm so over that concept, this verb—something we do, implying prescribed behaviors and benchmarks....instead of something we are—a relationship) gives snippets of how parents in other cultures deal with things like bed-time, eating habits, socialization, play. It approaches it all in a very open and à la carte manner, with the main idea not being what American parents do wrong, and aren't we so hapless, but just that there really is not one best way to do anything. So much depends on culture and environment.

One of the chapters I enjoyed most were the one on Argentina and small children not having a strict, set bed time. Whenever I hear about kids going to be at 6 or 7 pm (heck, I've heard of kids going to be in the 5:45 range) it just seems so early to me. Granted, we do the 8–830 range in our home, and everyone has their own schedule, but the strictness of insisting a kid be in bed at X hour, missing socializing, and doing real-world things with family and friends, missing life, is just sad.

In fact, it's more of the ethos of kids being more a part of life—going out to dinner with the family, even if its at 9 pm, going to parties and weddings that may last all night and catching a few zzzzs on chairs pushed together—that I think I love about the Argentina chapter.  Some would argue something like "If I tried to do that with my kid, they'd be a holy terror!" And I would just think, yes, probably, but its only because so many kids in America aren't brought up being a part of adult activities. (Uh-oh, I am sliding into the "what's wrong with America" line...it feels so inevitable, though...)

Another favorite chapter were on indigenous islanders (among other non-Western groups) who, though highly attentive to infants, just didn't play with their kids and thought this was a silly and strange thing. Author Mei-Ling Hopgood gives an interesting brief background on the history of play and toys in America that ties in well with the idea that adults playing with little kids is somewhat not natural and was something foisted on us (mostly moms, of course, as we were the ones at home when all this started mid-20th-century). And she tells of how smaller kids get swooped up into the activities of the older kids and learn socialization from their play in groups.

In most of these cases, parents just don't have the luxury to sit around playing with their kids, anyway, because they have work to do. And another great chapter talks about how small children in other cultures are enlisted to provide real and valuable help with family work, whether its grinding corn, doing the wash, gathering water or looking after little ones. It was really eye-opening to read about just how much children can do at ages we would never think of giving them work, 3, 4, 5. The children take pride in their work and it instills competence that many kids in America don't have even in college when they're clueless about how to even do their own laundry or cook for themselves.

I really enjoyed the book's approach of simply laying out these cultural differences as items of interest rather than necessarily practices we need to take on wholesale. I mean, obviously, it's not always possible or even safe to let small kids run loose in our cities and suburbs the same way people who live in rural settings without cars can, but there are definitely elements we can take away and incorporate, if we so choose.

The title portion, on how eskimos keep their babies warm, talks a lot about babywearing, which I love. One of the nicest things about this book is that some of the practices it describes are of the attachment parenting suite—especially the babywearing, and she mentions that that same mamas who send their toddlers off to play with the bigger kids and don't talk much to them were appalled by video of Americans who they felt let their babies cry too long and put them to sleep alone in a separate room. I like the way the book takes these "attachment" practices out of the realm of some academic philosophy on child-raising and presents in a simple and natural way of this is just what these people do.

The ideas in this post continue, moving on to a related, but different theme, on what teens need. I feel like being high-touch with infants and freer with kids as they get older is something I can run with, and so it was interesting, too, to stumble on a post from sex writer Susie Bright responding to the Atlantic article on mothers and careers...

Mothers—and others—do best when they're allowed to be whole people

I used to say you can have it all, but not at the same time—a cliché with some truth to it, though not my own concept, of course. Now more and more women with experience are coming out with this truth, following years of trying to pull it off. In the past, I didn't think it was so important for mothers to hold high-level positions, I mean, being a mom is very important in itself, right? I've changed my mind, though. Yes, raising children is important, but women who are mothers really do need to be part of business and government at the highest levels in order to ensure balanced policymaking. Here's a very good article wherein one woman from the highest ranks shares her experience and notes what needs to change.

  

Reading comments online to this and corollary articles, I'm struck by the lack of big-picture thinking many people seem to have. I really appreciated this article in terms of it being another voice coming out in support of work-life balance in general—and for moms/parents in particular. I think it's part of the slow, but certain, wheel of change that will bring us to a better place.

I am reading Twilight of the Elites: America After Meritocracy by Chris Hayes and it discusses the problem we have in America now with a relatively small and non-diverse leadership of our institutions, insulated at the top, who've failed us. Hyper-competitiveness and ego (the whole work-time machismo thing of being there grinding away into the night is an example) plays a role in causing these folks to actually not have the best or even good solutions to many of the challenges we face as society.

Ensuring there are mothers in high-level government and business positions will help diversify the leadership and balance policymaking. So, to me, it's not really so much about whether or not I personally "have it all." I may not want "it all," but some people do and being a parent should not keep them from achieving it.

In the bigger picture for women who may be more ambitious than I and have it in them to do bigger things, it must not be at the expense of their families—we need them in these positions of power.

Regarding work-life balance for all and in general, also revealed in comments is how some people just can't get their heads around this the concept at all. "Is it fair for childless people to have to work extra hours..." they ask. No! Nobody needs to work so much. Perhaps even more people are hired (thereby helping unemployment) and we all work a little less. Europeans seem to have a handle on this. Why, oh why, is there this assumption here in American that there is always so much very urgent work to be done that can't wait til 9-5 tomorrow? Or, maybe 9-12 pm after the kids are in bed, before which an employee took off at 2 pm? The world is not going to fall apart if certain things happen a little later instead of now. Of course, there are exceptions in emergency responder fields, certain service jobs that are less of "emergencies" but are based on timing, but don't be ridiculous, like I said, they seem to manage in other countries.

Those already well-positioned in life have to take the leap to claim it and we have to make it such that it's socially unacceptable and gauche to grind for hours and hours and hours all the time at the expense of everything else. For example, one commenter on the New York Times Motherlode blog's coverage observed, "I've learned that, in Germany, staying back late at the office too often raises questions about competency. My former boss got plenty of unpleasant scrutiny because he chose to stay back every night until 10pm, rather than go home and face his marital situation. Unfortunately, it made him look incompetent and unable to do the job in the allocated time and didn't help him when it was time to renew his contract; he was let go."

NPR did a series on work-life balance a couple of years ago. The concept has definitely been floating around for at least a few years now, so please, take it down a notch, America! We'll probably get better results anyway.

Challenge: Play more and find a way to make it edifying

I'm having mothering problems. My kid wants me to play a lot more than usual lately. (Maybe it's that preschool is out and instead of four days, she's just going to camp just two days—and of course, she's become used to being with us all day long now, and mostly engaged, after having been on vacation all together as a family for two weeks.) I don't really like playing, though. I feel sad about not liking playing.

One of the big problems I have with it is illustrated in the photo above—kids this age are disorderly. I am an order fiend (to my own standard, I'm sure some people "worse" than me would come into my space and be appalled—it's all a matter of degree). It is extremely difficult for me to find my place in the midst of this disorder. To her, I think, it somehow all makes sense. She's playing classroom. The Duplos in the middle are the schoolbus. The ones on the left are (were?) the classroom. The foam bits on the right are the playground. Presently, in the picture, the animals are hiding the paint they spilled with those paper towels. The paint is marker she drew with on the yoga mat.

Why it is so hard for me to pick a role in this story line and act it out with one of the figurines? That's all I'd have to do, right? My mom used to do it, I think. And yet, I have so much trouble with it. My kid tends to tell me that something I do when I try to do it playing isn't quite right and I (rather immaturely, I admit) get frustrated. I mean, I'd rather be reading or something, and I feel like I am doing something for her by playing and so she should be grateful for my play rather than critiquing it. Then again, if I am doing it for her, why shouldn't she have it her way?

I think I would actually enjoy playing—or doing art or crafts—in such a way that I am teacher. But, my kid doesn't really let me play that role. She kind of likes to run the show. And her show doesn't always (doesn't usually) make sense to me. She makes up words sometimes. Has arrangements I don't quite get. Sometimes she'll come up with something really cool and brilliant, though. But usually, my regimented adult mind can't get past the disorder.

In searching out ideas to help me, I mostly found academic/scientific information saying it wasn't necessary (or necessarily even good) for a child's development to have an adult play with them. But I'm not only concerned with my child's intellectual development (which I think is on track). I am concerned with our relationship.

I have to somehow overcome this. I feel like I should play with her, at least sometimes, and probably more than I do. I want to instill in her a sense that she is worthy, fun, a valuable and interesting person that people should want to engage with and so I don't want to reject her by not playing with her. And, practically speaking, she is an only child, so she has real needs for interaction. We do playdates, but it's just not feasible to do them every single day. I may crave alone time as a world-weary adult, but she is fresh and new and has much to share.

This is where getting high would come in handy—ha ha! I would be able to play so much better if I was high. Not high, I just see messes that I will eventually have to help clean up and my mind is pulled to real life, real issues I want to sort out by reading or writing. But, I digress. I need to expand my consciousness sans chemical aid and make this work. For me as much as for her. It could be a great opportunity to release myself from some of my neuroses. I mean, why this need for order? Have I always been this way? I don't remember being so touched by this need throughout my whole life.

I feel like I used to be so much a better mother to a baby than I am to a kid. Babies you just hold, feed, and you still have your brain to yourself. A kid kind of takes over your brain, if you give it half the attention it needs, or at best splits your consciousness in two somehow. No wonder I feel so nutty a lot of the time!

I have to face this challenge, though. I have to somehow find a way to play with her, ignore the messes and tap into how the make-believe storylines and dialogues might be able to teach me things. And she's been patiently waiting for me to join her by that crazy block pile, so, here I go...