Recapturing high times

I just got back from 12 days in Europe, a few of which were spent in Amsterdam.

A former weed enthusiast in my 20s, I was anxious to partake in some of what the city had to offer in the way of legal marijuana—and I did and it was wonderful.




Prior to Amsterdam, while I had fun on the trip, I was experiencing too much stress and annoyance from family members. They were really getting to me. As I'm sure many moms feel, being on vacation with these people was no vacation. Their unending needs were still there, only in an unfamiliar place and more difficult to fulfill. That, coupled with the nagging idea that I shouldn't always have to be catering to other people's needs and asking myself why does it have to be this way...put me in some funky moods along the way. But not in Amsterdam.

Pretty quickly after settling in to the hotel and making a falafel stop, I insisted on breaking away on my own to do what I needed to do. My husband actually put up resistance. "Why do you need to do drugs the minute you get here?" And on and on. I was thinking, you, you are the reason I need to do drugs the minute I get here—ha ha!

The way he called marijuana "drugs" was offputting to me. I view it as more of a good, strong beer, but with a mental and spiritual vibe that goes beyond a drink. We watch Breaking Bad, I've seen plenty of "drugs are so bad/addicts are so sad" movies and such and marijuana is just not the same. It's not a gateway, unless you are thinking it is a gateway to "heaven," or, to letting one see and feel life on another plane for a while and a gateway to self-discovery—if used properly. It's not physically addicting, after all, and not particularly harmful to the body. Alcohol is more harmful and by now most of us have heard potential dangers of caffeine and sugar, too, but, I digress.

Admittedly, the way I used it in my younger years was probably not the best. A near daily habit to escape the drudgery of life it should not be. One should change their life. But, it's not always so easy. Dan Savage brilliantly discusses pot use in Skipping Towards Gomorrah (the chapter on sloth). He observes how Americans work more than any other nation's people, are more productive—and smoke more pot. "...pot not only doesn't have a negative impact on the productivity of the American worker, but [it] also makes it possible for the American worker...to be as productive as we are..." He further explains, "While the workweek shrinks and vacation time grows for European workers, the amount of time Americans spend at work continues to grow...How do we work like crazy without going crazy...I think pot has a lot to do with it. It's just a hunch..." Savage cites studies that have shown marijuana interferes with the ability to judge correctly the passage of time. "In other words, pot slows stuff down—way, way down," he writes.

And indeed, I was taking notes while I was high in Amsterdam, trying to figure out how I'd recapture the good feelings I was experiencing without actually having weed at home, and I noted that I run at too high and idle and I need something to slow me down. I need help relaxing. Marijuana is a damn good shortcut.

It's not a shortcut I have regular access to at home, though, and while I could probably track some down, my husband is very much against it and reminds me it is not legal. I even explain to him I would not smoke every day. I wouldn't want to anymore at my age. There's too much to do! (Ha ha) I would like to get high maybe once a quarter. I feel like what happened in Amsterdam served as a bit of a vision quest for me. I know that's not the exact right term, as a vision quest involves deprivation and solitude in the wilderness and I was basically rambling along through a bustling city high for three days (via one carefully toked joint and 4 space cakes over time). But what I mean is that it took me out of myself for a long enough time where I was able to see things in new ways, make notes and observations about what I need "in real life" and just kind of do a re-set. I can respect my husband not wanting me to do something that is illegal and maybe risking our home and life. I think it is extremely unfortunate and wrong that marijuana is illegal, however. (Savage cites a great article by National Review's Richard Lowry in his book.) I won't say that if I had easy access I wouldn't partake, though. A little civil disobedience.

What's important now, though, is doing the work to achieve the things I learned while I was high. Yes, that's right, it does involve more work. I recently read this fascinating article in the New York Times highlighting a series of fascinating commonalities in medical conditions among humans and animals—and the section on addiction and animals "getting high" was particularly interesting. The article says:

Foraging, stalking prey, hoarding food, searching for and finding a desirable mate, and nest building are all examples of activities that greatly enhance an animal’s chances of survival and reproduction, or what biologists call fitness. Animals are rewarded with pleasurable, positive sensations for these important life-sustaining undertakings. Pleasure rewards behaviors that help us survive.

Conversely, unpleasant feelings like fear and isolation indicate to animals that they are in survival-threatening situations. Anxiety makes them careful. Fear keeps them out of harm’s way.

And one thing creates, controls and shapes these sensations, whether positive or negative: a cacophonous chemical conversation in the brains and nervous systems of animals. Time-melting opioids, reality-revving dopamine, boundary-softening oxytocin, appetite-enhancing cannabinoids and a multitude of other neurohormones reward behavior.

We humans get drug rewards for life-sustaining activities just as animals do. We simply call those activities by different names: Shopping. Accumulating wealth. Dating. House hunting. Interior decorating. Cooking.

When these behaviors have been studied in humans, they are associated with rises in the release of certain natural chemicals, including dopamine and opiates.

The key point is that behaviors are the triggers. Do something that evolution has favored, and you get a hit. Don’t do it, and you don’t get your fix.

And this is precisely why drugs can so brutally derail lives. Ingesting, inhaling or injecting intoxicants — in concentrations far higher than our bodies were designed to reward us with — overwhelms a system carefully calibrated over millions of years. These substances hijack our internal mechanisms. They remove the need for the animal to input a behavior, before receiving a chemical dose. In other words, pharmaceuticals and street drugs offer a false fast track to reward — a shortcut to the sensation that we’re doing something beneficial.

This is a critical nuance for understanding addiction. With access to external drugs, the animal isn’t required to “work” first — to forage, flee, socialize or protect. Instead, he goes straight to reward. The chemicals provide a false signal to the animal’s brain that his fitness has improved, although it has not actually changed at all.

Why go through a half-hour of awkward small talk at an office party when a martini or two can trick your brain into thinking you’ve already done some social bonding? Drugs tell users’ brains that they’ve just done an important, fitness-enhancing task.

Ultimately, however, the powerful urge to use and reuse is provided by brain biology that evolved because it maximized survival. Seen this way, we’re all born addicts. Substance addiction and behavioral addiction are linked. Their common language is in the shared neurocircuitry that rewards fitness-promoting behaviors.

Consider the most common behavioral addictions from an evolutionary perspective. Sex. Binge eating. Exercise. Working. They are exceedingly fitness enhancing.

I know that's a long portion to quote, but I thought it was really good. I like marijuana—a lot. But, I do recognize the "shortcut" aspect of a drug and it's value in careful use over habitual use that might put someone in a loop of forever "shortcutting" and never growing or fulfilling real, true "fitness enhancing."

So, I must now dig into my notes from being high and look into practices for day to day life that can help me feel the calmness, the love and peace, the sense that everything was OK, that I felt in Amsterdam. (They are probably not "Shopping. Accumulating wealth. Dating. House hunting. Interior decorating. Cooking." as that article notes and more likely sex, exercise, mediation and maybe some ritualistic grooming (?)—more on all coming soon, and I'll further explain the last one...

Still, the quarterly smoke would be nice.

A little help, please? Oh...nevermind.

After reading The Conflict and at my early parsing of TIME's attack on attachment parenting, I felt like I'd seriously turned the corner on thinking the U.S. should do more to support families. The TIME article seemed to me to be shameful deflection (strategic?) from the need for Americans to push for the first-world support other industrialized nations have for families, and I was particularly inspired by Chris Hayes speaking about this on his show.

But, I am uncertain again. While I could get over the fact that most of the mainstream commentary I've read reflects complete cluelessness of the fact that their corporate/capitalist task masters delight at them squabbling over how long to breastfeed and denigrating the value and importance of parenting in favor of work, work, work for the machine, I can't get over some people's willful ignorance and denial—even to the point of criticizing and turning away those who would help them, as illustrated by Whoopi Goldberg's comments on The View which were echoed by Elizabeth Hasselbeck. They griped about an initiative put forth in New York to support breastfeeding in hospitals, with Hasselbeck particularly complaining about being woken by lactation consultants reminder her she needed to breastfeed. Well, sorry, honey, you do have to feed them at least every two hours, there's really no way around it, except, uhm...formula. So that's why you want the formula because you can't be bothered to feed your infant in the middle of the night? You don't want to be bothered?

Indeed, on a recent New York Times Motherlode blog post, commenters reacted to the question of whether Americans really do want to encourage breastfeeding. One "Ivy League-educated, white collar professional who votes Democrat" located in DC said, "Honestly, I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to breastfeed my future children...I don't want to be chained to them and I want my partner to have the chance to bond with them as much as I do. I just wish it were more socially acceptable to say so." Willful ignorance. Even from the supposedly educated. What can you do?

I commented also, observing that I don't think Americans really do want to encourage breastfeeding. Every time I have a discussion with someone outside of an immediate circle of people I know breastfed (like from my natural birth class, etc.) it devolves into countless tales of how they wanted to so badly and yet couldn't and how they are tired of hearing about it and being made to feel guilty. It's as thought they can't understand the difference between appropriate education and public health messages versus their own personal experiences, and they refuse to hear, even in a very non-confrontational and abstract way, that there were things that could have been done differently that might have helped them succeed. These things aren't said to make them feel bad, but to demonstrate that it wasn't their fault and that women do need more education and support—and still they are angry and don't want to hear it. Then, we have voices like Goldberg and Hasselbeck slamming breastfeeding support initiatives. I am beginning to think people don't care and don't want help. Kind of like obesity...people are willfully ignorant and undisciplined. I can't imagine how breastfeeding advocates go on with the hopeless American public. What's troubling, though, is having a desire to move toward a national healthcare program, because it's the right thing to do and being disgusted at all the cost savings and health benefits lost that could be had if more women were committed to breastfeeding.

In a Facebook discussion with a mom-blogger "friend" I tried to cool the escalation concerning the TIME cover by noting the Chris Hayes story on helping out parents, you know, why can't we all get along and work together to get parents the support they need...only to have her say, "I totally agree. There are more pressing issues that should be delved into than the breastfeeding debate. But two words I feel should never be uttered in the same sentence are ‘politics’ and ‘parenting’ [emphasis mine]. Especially when certain figures are spouting off in books about something they have no idea. Take a step down and see what real middle-class parents go through, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. No nannies, no cushy bank account, no advisers whispering in their ear or ghostwriters on the payroll." OK, OK, I get the anti-Ann Romney dig, but, how are we supposed to make change if we can't talk about parenting and politics together? Duh.

Children can't really speak up for themselves. It's up to us to do it and these people don't even want to do that? They'd rather just kvetch about how hard parenting is and how much they can't wait for "wine o'clock" and love to drink and swear! Oooh, you are so bad! YAWN.

So, people need help, but they don't want help. Or they want help in the form of free childcare, but don't bother them about breastfeeding? I don't get it.

It could easily be argued that supporting parents is the right thing to do and that things like protected jobs, subsidized parental leave, enhanced laws supporting breastfeeding and such are good for society overall because well-tended-to infants and children grow into better citizens. Although, not everyone thinks so, and people can't even really agree on what infants and small children need, even with humans having had a model for thousands of years, the expectations of which are coded into a baby's instinct—and into mothers if they aren't completely damaged or brainwashed by modern society.

Another commenter on the Motherlode post about Americans' view on breastfeeding noted of state supported benefits for new parents "...these are costly social policies. And they make sense for Sweden and France, because they have relatively low populations that are aging—low birth rates!—and they want desperately to ENCOURAGE people to have children. In the US, we have a huge population—overpopulation!—and huge immigration (much of it illegal)—and the last thing we need is "more babies." We have way, WAY too many babies as it is. Our policies reflect OUR reality—that we wish to (mildly) discourage childbearing, or at least keep it to one or two children per family." And, that, too resonated with me from a strictly short-term, pragmatic perspective.

As for me, I feel fortunate to have had the time to plan for a child and, with my husband, take matters into our own hands to give her the early childhood we wanted her to have, and that we think is important.

I read a really fascinating review of The Conflict just this morning that touches on an aspect of it I had not yet explored. One part of the review riffs on a 1980 article in which social critic Robert Crawford used the term “healthism” to refer to a new preoccupation of the middle class with personal health and wholesome lifestyles, drawing a connection between healthism and political disengagement. This is done as a parallel to the "naturalist parenting" (or attachment parenting) philosophy that The Conflict is critiquing. The review noted, "A sense of impotence—'I can’t change the world, but at least I can change myself,' as Crawford put it—fed the mania for vitamins, exercise, herbal supplements. And in turn, as people poured more energy into their own health, they had less time and inclination to invest in civic or political involvement. Since 1980 this outlook does not seem to have abated, to say the least, and for parents it applies doubly to their children. In shaping contemporary parenthood, this retreat to the private sphere has been at least as important as a retreat to nature."

And after reading that, the notion of "the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world," however patronizing this can sometimes sound, came to mind. Although I think the reviewer might not be on board with this "retreat" into what we can control (more of a refocus, I would say), I do feel somewhat politically disengaged—and confused by my fellow countrymen and women about what the heck they want for their own children anyway. So why wouldn't I retreat (refocus) and just bolster my own child in the way I see fit? I don't feel a connection with many other Americans about raising children based on the majority of comments about attachment parenting and such, and these people don't seem to really want help, so, what can one do but strike out on their own?

The icing on the crappy store-bought, hydrogenated oil and corn syrup laden cake was an article in Mother Jones today (by a man) completely politicizing breastfeeding in the cheapest way, using a false support of this basic human function as a way to slam Mitt Romney. Again, I'm not exactly a Romney fan, but this is garbage.

So, I would tell women who are looking to breastfeed and otherwise parent on the continuum as much as possible—mamas, you are on your own. You and your, hopefully, conscious, enlightened and supportive husband. You're not going to get anything of value from this American society for a damn long time, if ever.

So, what did TIME have in mind?

As a mother and a graphic designer/visual artist, I was very interested in the controversial TIME magazine cover highlighting its feature on Dr. William Sears and the the philosophy he espouses—attachment parenting.

After my initial personal reaction, I thought I'd discuss the chosen cover image and its effectiveness from a communications standpoint.

First, the chosen cover:


Do you think TIME is aiming to portray what this mother is doing as good, or even normal?

Does the child look OK? Is he comfortable, relaxed, happy? (It should be noted that this is an actual mother and child, they are not models, and she actually does still breastfeed him. He is 3.)

In my view, the answers to all of these questions are NO.

The woman’s pose is somewhat defiant, though her stare is one of relative equanimity.

The child has to stand on a chair to reach her, rather than her coming to the child’s level.

Now, a contrasting cover shot that didn’t make the cut:


The child is in arms, eyes closed and the mother is seated.

She is non-combative, still with the look of calm on her face, but with her head tilted toward the child and her arms cradling him. He is in his own, peaceful, private world, unaware of the camera.

In spite of the child’s size, it’s far less jarring than the first photo. It probably still would have raised eyebrows in a culture where most don’t breastfeed past 6–12 months, but not as much as the chosen image.

My thoughts on the imagery and the public reaction:

In reading lots and lots of online comments on the cover—from people who did read the article, but mostly people who apparently did not read it (they didn’t know the mom and son were real, for example)—I found a range of reactions but they generally fell into some main categories.

Skeeved out

Many, many of the commenters felt this image of a preschool-age child breastfeeding was “gross, sick, repulsive and perverted” and expounded with comments accusing the mother of exploiting the child, saying that he is going to be made fun of when he’s older, saying this is going to make him “go gay,” and so on. Even as a proponent of breastfeeding for as long as is mutually agreeable to mother and child, I can understand how the average joe or jane citizen might find the image at least a little bit off-putting simply because the majority of Americans think breastfeeding is something for infants only and it’s not something they’re used to seeing. Still, I found many of the negative reactions to be needlessly angry and hostile. The jokes at the child’s expense were not funny to me

Pissed off, type A

Another sizable crop of reactions were defensive, likely focusing on the headline, “Are You Mom Enough?” Many women were offended by what they viewed as yet another endorsement of breastfeeding being pushed on them. The über-popular blogger Scary Mommy mocked up the cover expressing this, and her followers on Facebook mostly rallied in agreement. This is an interpretation I didn’t quite understand, admittedly not only because my own experience puts me in a very pro-breastfeeding place, but also because to me it seemed clear that TIME was not trying to present the practice depicted as something necessarily positive. The “Are You Mom Enough?” headline seemed to me to be sarcastic and when coupled with the assertion that “…attachment parenting drives some mothers to extremes…” it is made clearer that TIME was looking at this style of parenting with a critical eye, certainly not endorsing it wholesale (if at all).

Along with this sort of defensiveness, though to a lesser extent, was another, more predictable sort, complaining about the woman’s attractiveness and that she could not possibly be a breastfeeding mother and look like this. I’d say this might have been another strategy choice by TIME to inflict just a little pang of jealously among women, for not only are they competing in the area of “good mothering” but also in “hotness.”

Pissed off, type B

A smaller handful, mostly attachment parenting supporters, felt the cover was sensationalist for their own reasons: it not being representative of the reality of extended breastfeeding—which is usually considered to be breastfeeding for more than one year, but is not usually done quite so…shall we say…flagrantly as is depicted in the cover cover image. Indeed, one of the critical comments from a non-supporter of this kind of parenting snidely questioned whether this mom would pull her son aside for some breast milk after soccer practice if orange wedges weren’t good enough. Realistically, most people who breastfeed, still, at these older ages do it perhaps once or twice a day for bed time or quiet time alone at home.

Also the singular focus on breastfeeding for an article that was supposed to explore attachment parenting overall (of which breastfeeding is an important part, but only one of eight tenets) was puzzling to those who understand AP. This picture didn’t capture the spirit of attachment parenting that parents who practice identify with—mostly that it is very child-centered. (I think most people familiar with and supportive of attachment parenting would have preferred the second photo I show above.) Overall, it seemed to offend attachment parent proponents, though I did see one (and there could likely be more, but this is definitely a minority view) commenter that thought the cover was great in its defiance and her look of just daring someone to give her shit about how she chooses to raise her child.

Generally pissed off and fed up

Perhaps the most common response of all among those identifying as mothers was disgust at a media outlet once again “pitting women against each other” or “fueling the mommy wars.” These comments were often tagged on to those expressed by the previous A and B “pissed” versions, encompassing a range of secondary views on the matter, but generally saying “leave moms alone,” “we’ve had enough” and “we won’t play this game!”

Consensus?

So, what message did the cover convey? TIME skeeved out and pissed off a lot of people!

Obviously, it meant different things to different people—as images often do. But in this case, the meanings seemed particularly disparate.

If TIME sought to critique attachment parenting harshly, I would say it was somewhat effective conveying this with the cover, but not entirely. Many—moms especially—missed that point and were put on the defensive, thinking the question was straightforward and assuming they weren’t “Mom Enough” according to whatever this standard TIME was reporting on was.

If TIME was aiming to bring forth a better understanding of attachment parenting, the cover image was a huge fail, because it’s depicting something with many nuances in an extreme manner. It could be argued that TIME was trying to show one facet of attachment parenting—the so-called extremist—but I’m not sure that its audience is well-versed enough in the subtleties to actually understand that.

Some people chided TIME as a cheap rag scrambling for relevancy that has pulled stunts like this before, with a history of being provocative (Hitler as Man of the Year, 1938). Others reluctantly cheered its business savvy and marketing brilliance for stirring the pot and creating controversy to push sales, regardless of the quality of journalistic integrity.

I suppose it matters what your metric is—sales or clear messaging that gets your point across. Not knowing TIME’s aim (though I have my own suspicions) it’s not clear whether its message was conveyed, but if I had to call it, I’d say it’s a win in the attention grabbing/sales side but a lose in the clear messaging side—that much seems obvious.

When normal becomes notable

This week's issue of TIME magazine with its crazy, sensationalist cover of a camo-clad preschooler at the breast, features articles on "attachment parenting" and Dr. William Sears, who they say "has made parenthood more physically and emotionally demanding than ever before." (Great commentary about the visuals on KellyNaturally.com.)

Interesting, but my personal experience was that it was just not all that demanding to breastfeed, carry my baby around or hold her most of the day and sleep with her (what they're describing as 3 tenets of this philosophy—there are 8, actually...). In fact, to me, these things were very simply easier than the alternatives. That these practices are somehow new or revolutionary, or  in need of a scientific basis—some proof of their safety, benefit or efficacy—seems silly to me, also. These are things that human beings naturally do, instinctively, I believe, when they are in touch with their primal humanity and they have the liberty to do so.

Instead of positioning attachment parenting as a "thing," a philosophy with adherents and such, we should recognize it for what it is: normal human parenting. And we should recognize other practices for what they are: accommodating other things—be it parental preferences, corporate/capitalist culture, whatever. I won't even pass judgment and say there's anything wrong with such accommodations. But, let's not paint the normal human way to be as some new-fangled, cultish, out-there hippie trend with a Dr. as the "leader." It's how humans have lived for millennia.

I'm currently reading The Continuum Concept and learned from the TIME Sears feature that one of his early books was based on his reading of this book. It's a rather un-scientific book. There are no references. It's mostly the reflections of a writer, Jean Liedloff, who spent some time living with Stone Age Indians in the South American jungle. But it is very compelling. The book tells of revelations that led her to form a radically different view of what human nature really is, and challenged her Western, industrial preconceptions of how we should live—much of it dealing with how babies and children are handled (literally, handled, as in held in hands and in arms).

In her book, Liedloff observes of the treatment of infants in Western culture that "Babies have, indeed, become a sort of enemy to be vanquished by the mother. Crying must be ignored so as to show the baby who is boss, and a basic premise in the relationship is that every effort should be made to force the baby to conform to the mother's wishes. Displeasure, disapproval, or some other sign of withdrawal of love is shown when the baby's behavior causes 'work,' 'wastes' time, or is otherwise deemed inconvenient. The notion is that catering to the desires of a baby will 'spoil' him and going counter to them will serve to tame, or socialize, him. In reality the opposite effect is obtained in either case."

She explains that humans are evolutionarily programmed for certain expectations, noting that for millions of years newborn babies have been held close to their mothers from the moment of birth and that just because in recent history we've taken this to be optional (or inconvenient), doesn't change the millions of years of programming.

"The period immediately following birth is the most impressive part of life outside the mother's body. What a baby encounters is what he feels the nature of life to be....

...he has come prepared for the great leap from the womb to his place in arms...

What he has not come prepared for is a greater leap of any sort, let alone a leap into nothingness, non-life, a basket with cloth in it, or a plastic box without motion, sound, odor or the feel of life. The violent tearing apart of the mother-child continuum, so strongly established during the phases that took place in the womb may understandably result in depression for the mother, as well as agony for the infant.

Every nerve ending under his newly exposed skin craves the expected embrace, all his being, the character of all he is, leads to his being held in arms."

The TIME article says "Some parents subscribe to [Dr. Sears'] theory that attachment parenting...is the best way to raise confident, secure children. Others think Sears is an anti-feminist tyrant, or that his ideas are just totally unrealistic."But my experience (and those of other mothers I know) was that I really just did what came naturally to me in the early days, weeks and months of motherhood and it just happened to be in line with this stuff. The thing is, it worked. My child was healthy, she ate well and grew and grew. She slept well, curled up with me, and we were very close. Still are. And for me, of course, it was an adjustment, having a baby, but I never felt particularly sleep deprived (thanks to co-sleeping) and was relatively calm, thanks to the hormone flow and baby bonding.

Now, don't take this to be an implication that people who may not have done these things do not have healthy children or are not close to them—this seems to be a common response. I am only sharing my experience. I will observe, though, that I have seen many complaints of sleeplessness, frequent wakings and such, and about how difficult life with an infant is, among those who don't likely understand instinctual human parenting, and it seems they're having a harder time of it than I did.

In The Conflict, Elisabeth Badinter cites anthropologist Sarah Hrdy's work on maternal instinct. Badinter seeks to make some negative point about the tyranny of breastfeeding, but instead reveals the powerful chemical bonding that occurs between a mother and child during the earliest days of breastfeeding. Hrdy speaks of a "cascade of physiological consequences in the mother, suffusing her body with a sense of wellbeing...within moments of nursing the mother's cortisol levels subside; oxytocin courses through her veins. As if she were getting a masage, the mother's blood pressure drops, oxytocin suffuses her in a beatific calm...the mother is endocrinologically, sensually and neurologically transformed...it will be a long time before she is again emotionally and physiologically so at liberty to cut bait..." If a mother doesn't experience that, or is too weighed down by baggage about the  difficulties of breastfeeding or how it might be interfering with other (arguably less important) aspects of her life, she is not going to reap those same benefits as the mother who can get high on it, let go and float in that magical place of being with her child in such a special way.

None of this means that people who don't do these things aren't necessarily loving parents or aren't close to their children. It's just a vastly different experience. And many who haven't had that experience become very defensive when discussing it, and it seems they just don't get it. If you don't do the instinctual things, it's likely you wouldn't understand them. You're just not operating in that way on these kinds of things.

I've seen comments already from people regarding the TIME story that focus on defensive cries about how they tried to breastfeed and it didn't work and it reflects such a massive lack of understanding about breastfeeding, both culturally and biologically. For those who might stumble upon this blog and may be in search of quality information on the mechanics of breastfeeding, I highly recommend kellymom.com and for less on the mechanics, but more on social and cutlural matters, Ph.D. in Parenting has a lot to offer on this issue (and others).
I think it's odd that we've come to a place where what's normal has become something of note. In the way TIME—and mainstream folk in general nowadays—seem to consider Dr. Sears' advice and the "attachment parenting" movement, or philosophy, some extreme departure from sanity. I personally don't like to say I follow AP, really, because I don't think of my parenting as something from a book. Sure, I have learned things from books and books are great for reference, but the basics of eating, sleeping and being close, well, you shouldn't need a book to confirm those things. That we do says something about how far we as a society have drifted off the course. "Attachment parenting," if we must call it something, shouldn't need  explaining—it's the cribs, baby buckets and bottles that do.

More on 'The Conflict'—pushing me to be more progressive

So, I decided I just had to read the book—The Conflict, by Elisabeth Badinter—if I was going to participate in any discussions of it and I am glad I did.

First I must say I am sorry for calling her a "bitch" in my last post. I had some misgivings about giving her money from the purchase of the book, as she is a billionaire whose business promotes formula companies big time, so it could be said that there's a conflict of interest there, but, again, I felt like if I was going to comment extensively or have views on it, I'd better read it. (And I don't think her screed is some strategy to bolster formula companies' position, but to protect the French way of life as she knows it.)

In the book, Badinter's tone was not shrill or condemning of the individuals who would choose to practice what she calls "intensive mothering"—much of which is part of the suite of practices in what's more widely known as "attachment parenting" (AP)—but rather but more of a critique of the overarching societal effects of these practices (or what she believes them to be). I have to say, the synopses and articles on it don't have the subtlety of the book itself and Badinter herself comes across softer in parts of the book than in interviews she gives. Many of the ensuing responses from AP, 3rd wave types, kind of like myself, seemed defensive, too, and we have here a cycle of female defensiveness that's kind of funny.

Much of the book deals with discussion of  encouraging birth rates among nations (which is up for discussion of whether that's even a good thing) and how various family policies affect this, which I found interesting. America seems to be an anomaly since we don't really have any kind of government policies supporting families and yet our birth rate is solid. Still, after reading the book, I am leaning more toward support of the Scandinavian-style family policies, not to effect any boom in birthrates (which they don't seem to in Scandinavian countries, anyway), just because I think it is the right thing for a progressive society to do in order to bridge the inherent gap due to biological characteristics of women (we get pregnant and have babies!) and to foster equality, which I believe elevates a society. In my view, this would include ample parental leave (not just for moms) with special support for breastfeeding, part-time employment arrangements for mothers of young children, and high-quality early education—not infant daycare. I have had tendencies in the past to take the "people should be able to do it on their own" line, but if something is really good for families and children, and for women's status, then shouldn't a society work together to help all members achieve this? I'm not talking redistribution of wealth or everyone having to have the same size house or newest car, I'm talking about basics.

Badinter, for her part, predictably praises France (she seems very nationalistic to me), which has more state support for families than the U.S., but has not really gotten on board with the push for breastfeeding or for more egalitarian relationships among men and women. Badinter doesn't seem to get, or want, what's going on with many of the more egalitarian couples in the U.S. (and AP types tend to be progressive and egalitarian, not as a rule but often enough) and Scandinavian countries. She lets men off the hook way too easily (Ph.D. in Parenting focuses on this) and is too in love with traditional French culture and its almost cartoon-like obsession with "sexiness." The idea that babies and children create such a huge impediment to parents' sexuality feels very outmoded, simple-minded and immature to me.

The book is a weird mix of what seems to aspire to be scholarly and what is obviously coming from a very personal place for Badinter. The reader can feel this 2nd wave feminist's tiredness and frustration and worry. She spends a lot of time trying to take down "essentialist" positions about how women are supposed to have a maternal nature, I think because she herself does not have what would be considered a traditional maternal nature. But, I think she oversimplifies what this maternal nature thing is all about. I think her idea of what maternal means is a broadstroked, rubber stamped kind of this that she blames on longstanding pre-feminist cultural mores, but that I just don't see as relevant to most people outside of very conservative or religious corners anymore. The fact that women have more options these days and just because not all women feel "maternal" or want to have kids (all fair and good, fine things) doesn't negate the biological processes with hormones and such that do really exist and are alive and well in the vast majority of women, though. So, while I won't call myself an essentialist in the sense that women have to be a certain way if they don't want to, I do recognize that for most women, elements encoded in their biology play a significant role in their lives, whether anyone likes it or not. So instead of forcing women into the box of turning off their breasts and leaving their infants, so they can be more like men and work, work, work, we should be helping them reconcile their nature with the modern world by keeping room on our modern world for these primal things. (I just started The Continuum Concept now after finishing The Conflict.)

This, I think, may be a key difference between the old and the new "feminism" which has gained ground—we don't want to have to be just like men (or the old school caricature of the workaholic, non-caring, non-parental male) to have equal opportunities. We want to be a part of a progressive society that recognizes the value in what different members of that society have to offer and we want to further human rights to include children's rights—not gain rights for women at the expense of children.

The most disturbing part of The Conflict, for me, was a section toward the end in which Badinter blithely describes the long French tradition of putting children very low on the totem pole of society to the point where "babies were dropping like flies." It brings to mind the old line about how you can judge a society on how it treats the most vulnerable of its people. This concept is explored more in-depth in a piece in The Monthly that observes, "Badinter thinks of herself as a revolutionary and of child advocates as reactionaries, but who really are the reactionaries here, seeking to revert to the past?...The fact is, we don’t need to hark back to the ‘good old days’ to reconcile women’s emancipation with the new ethic of care for children. Nor do we need to apportion blame or guilt. The roadblocks on the path to liberation are not maternalists but government, business and the wider economy."Again, Badinter's views place her firmly in the regressive camp, she sounds very conservative, actually, which on one hand should not be surprising given her wealth and ties to business, but on the other, is counter-intuitive because aren't feminists "progressive"? Apparently they are not all!

On this 'Conflict' thing

My husband is great. He brought home this Marie Claire article (ripped from a gym mag) because he knew it would be right up my alley. I hadn't talked with him about the Badinter book which asserts that certain aspects of motherhood are oppressive and lower the status of women, but he knows how I feel about this stuff. I won't bother discussing too much of the overarching concepts, it's been done, and done well, already. One of the best discussions I've seen has been between Katie Allison Granju (of whom I'm not exactly a fan, but somewhat indifferent) and the notorious (to me) Hannah Rosin on Slate (it's a six-part thing, as of now). I'm just going to ramble a little about my personal thoughts and feelings on this thing.

I just have to say, I really, really don't care what other people do. I might used to have an axe to grind, but I am over that now. There have got to be little minor sparks of light that make people different and these things can just be more of those. What I do care about is when people sniff and snuff at the things I choose to do that are actually quite normal and suggest I am oppressed or brainwashed. I'm not. And I am certainly put off by the idea that as an "educated" woman, I have a responsibility to all of womankind to express my privilege and "liberation" in the manner prescribed by the leading feminist voices of the time, so as not to, you know, lower the status of women. Sorry, I'm more interested in the status of my daughter. Call me selfish.

I didn't even know about "attachment parenting" (AP) or that the things I would do quite naturally out of the box as a new mother were part of a philosophy. I did them mostly because they seemed like obvious choices (to me) and were easy (for me). Or, easier than the alternatives. (I recall a quick past post, Crunchy by Convenience...) Using formula and not being able to breastfeed just never even occurred to me. I don't remember my mom breastfeeding, though I know she did. I remember giving a baby I babysat bottles, but I guess I was kind of clueless about the formula versus breastmilk thing. I hate having to have a bunch of very specific supplies for things (I use wine bottle as a rolling pin and have minimal kitchen gadgets, for example, I like running because all you need is shoes, you get the idea) and I hate cleaning, so bottles, for me, would have been a nightmare. Easier to just whip out my breast as needed! It was no problem having to be with the baby all the time because I wanted to be with the baby all the time. I'd gone out partying for, like, at least 15 years before having a baby at 35, so I wasn't really itching for that. I was, you know, a grown up with a baby!

As far as co-sleeping, quite frankly, it was the best way I could actually get sleep while my kid was a baby and it rolled into an arrangement I'm quite comfortable with still to this day. I lay down with her and read my Kindle (or pass out) while I cuddle her and she falls asleep. Then after a while I break out and enjoy the rest of my night, if I'm not too tired. She can go to sleep on her own, of course, it comes with some argument when it must happen, because who wouldn't prefer to be cuddled to sleep? Oh right...my husband! Which is why not sleeping in bed with him when I don't feel like it doesn't matter. Sex and sleep are two very different things, which many co-sleeping critics just can't seem to get their heads around. And they must be very unimaginative. 

This is one of Badinter's gripes, that co-sleeping and such creates a rift between husband and wife. It doesn't have to, though. After skimming the article and homing in on Badinter's emphasis on the importance of not letting sex fall to the wayside after becoming a mother, I asked my husband if he thought breastfeeding and co-sleeping, or having a kid in general has affected our sex life. He said, "Well it's more vanilla..." I argued that the frequency was about the same (and better than most from statistics I read) and that I am not willing to pay a babysitter for us to go "swing" (haha). So we'll have to be like those 60-year-olds we saw on our honeymoon when we went to Cap D'Adge. But, I digress, quite frankly, it's not the childcare that saps my sex drive, its the vicissitudes of life and my own head. Nothing about the logistics of where people sleep.

And, more about husbands and AP. All I have seen from the culture, now that I am aware of it, has been really involved dads who babywear, et cetera, and are on-board with it all. My personal take is that early infancy is largely the domain of the mom, and for me there was little escaping that and I didn't want to. As my child started getting older, though, and certainly now, my husband plays a huge role, especially for someone who works full time outside of the home. He often spends whole Saturday afternoons with her while I read or do some other stuff I want to do and have "me" time.

As far as diapering, I did use disposable for about 9 months. I felt like I didn't want to be bothered with diapers til I had the mothering thing down. Then my baby got so deliciously fat from all the breastmilk she was drinking around the clock that the disposables didn't fit her chubby little legs right so I explored cloth and fell in love with the cute styles and that was it. It was no big deal to wash them either. Really, no big deal. 

I could go into the same boring details about making my own baby food. I mean, why shouldn't babies, when they're ready to eat, just eat mashed up versions of real food anyway? And how hard is it to mash up an avocado, a banana or a baked sweet potato? Uhm, not hard.

When it was time for my maternity leave to be over (16 weeks where I live, which I funded through acquired sick leave over the course of my 7 years with the organization), I decided she was too precious and I couldn't leave her. Thus began my lovely now nearly 5-year sabbatical from full-time office drudgery, including the hour commute, and my foray into independent consulting. I fear (fear is not the right word, but am not exactly chomping at the bit to...) going back to the grind one day, actually, as inevitable as it seems as my kid gets older and goes on her way through school.

So, I don't get the oppression. It's "oppressive" to have to work for a living, but most adults accept that.

My part-time hobby has been hate-reading (I've really got to stop, but...) and so I would actually love to read The Conflict, but I refuse to give this bitch any of my money, and it doesn't appear to be in the library system, yet. I've purchased other books of people I don't particularly care for, but I can't do it for this one. As Granju points out in her Slate posts, Badinter is a billionaire executive of a PR company representing some of the biggest formula interests out there. And while I am not as much a formula/big business hater as some, I do think they push the envelope when it comes to being the ones who truly pressure women, so it is more than a little disingenuous for Badinter to come out with these high-minded views about pressure on mothers today.

It seems to me the AP contingent is pretty limited and it's still looked on as "funny" (or quaint, or "isn't she a cute little hippie) to do a lot of the things we do, like extended breastfeeding especially and the co-sleeping. So I would hardly say there's this huge pressure. Also, most moms, whether they want to or not, do go back to work after six months probably at the longest. I'm the one that feels a little like the freakish weirdo here—not that I don't secretly like that a little bit!

On a broader scale policy level (because I guess I just do have to go there) I think that denying women's biology—we have babies, we lactate, most of us actually want to be with the babies for at least a good number of months probably beyond six when they're first born—and forcing them into the mold of maleness in the name of equality is not the answer. Setting up state-run creches, having moms strap machines to their breasts while they're working, or manufacturing faux milk so they can work (work, work, work—how some idolize work) seems all like trying to jam square pegs in round holes to me. I think a truly progressive society allows for different types of people to contribute and does best to be innovative in coming up with ways to enhance what people naturally want to do instead of patchworking or slapping band-aids on reality to make a woman match up perfectly with a man.

New perspectives on family support, no thanks to contemporary feminists

The recent discussion of The Conflict (French "philosopher" Elisabeth Badinter's screed blaming what she calls "natural" and "intensive" mothering for lowering women's status) has predictably turned into a moanfest among Americans on the NYT Motherlode, and other internet venues, that we just don't get the same support they do in France (and other European countries) and doesn't that suck.

In my last post I questioned how so many Americans are saying that they can't afford to stay home OR to put their children in day care. I mean, they afford it because they have to do one or the other, obviously, but is it really such a crunch? I was accused of living in a bubble and so on and so forth and I will admit here and now that maybe that is somewhat true. The people I know all can afford it—either staying home or using childcare. I suspect most of the people who read and post to the NYT can also afford it, which is what gets me so cranky. These are the people who have cable, smart phones, minivans, multiple children, get professional portraits taken of their multiple children, shop at Gymboree for their multiple children, have parties at non-home venues for their multiple children, go on nice vacations, eat premium foods—you get the picture. No slam against these people, but please don't tell me how hard it is to get along. But, maybe that's just my bubble.

Now, if you're talking about seriously poor ghetto or Appalachia types, that's another story. Of course. I guess the problem for me is—where one ends and the other begins. Is there a sharp line, is it just a matter of degree, and, I am sort of coming around to the idea that collective help for everybody might be a good idea. I just can't escape what I know about how everyone I know, and even people with less money than my peers and I, live. It seems like there's a lot of excess there and why can't we just help the people who really need help rather than sign up for some weird feminist/socialist utopia that seems to me to be more about bolstering over-educated women who didn't marry well and want to be assured of their fulfillment that they are not open-minded enough to find in the children that nobody is forcing them to have.

I think yappy feminists have ruined it for me.

Let me just say that I consider myself a feminist in the sense that I think women should have full sovereignty over their own bodies and lives. Articles like this, highlighting the egregious flaws of "personhood" measures, for example, make my blood begin to boil. I think women should be able to do and be whatever they want to be. BUT the voices that proclaim women who want to dedicate themselves to motherhood (or for whatever reason, NOT doing all the stuff feminists say they should want to do) make me seriously want to distance myself from feminism. Those who warn of husbands leaving, women losing themselves, those who say they'd be so bored at home with a small child (implying it's because they are just so intellectual they couldn't bear it), these are the types that ruin it for me.

But then I learn about people that actually are disadvantaged, that actually do need help and I can change my tune about not wanting to support others.

A couple nights ago we watched a doc called The Interruptors. The film tells the story of three "violence interrupters" who try to protect their Chicago communities from the violence they once employed. It examines a year in which Chicago drew national headlines for violence and murder that plagued the city. A key player in the film is Gary Slutkin, M.D., Executive Director of Ceasefire, an organization that uses a public health model to mitigate urban violence in Chicago. Dr. Slutkin, an epidemiologist, explains in the film that violence is like a disease. His group's strategy is to treats it like a disease and prevent its spread. He says "When one event doesn't occur, other events don't occur and the neighborhood remains safer. Treating violence like a disease is something that we began to do about 15 years ago when we began to see that violence had characteristics like other infectious diseases. That is to say, one event, in this case a shooting, leads to another shooting just the way a case of flu or case of measles leads to another case of flu or another case of measles. So therefore, of course, we need to interrupt the spread."

And it dawned on me that these people are the people who need the free quality childcare and got me thinking that problems with education and general development, beyond violence and criminality, can also be viewed as a "disease" and that the people are not necessarily bad people, they are just afflicted with this disease.

I don't want to sound greedy. I don't want it to sound like I don't want to be taxed for a program that might help people who don't really need it—like my peers and those a little "poorer" than us—if such a program would also help those really in need.

At the same time, I feel like my way of life and the way I grew up with—mom at home with small children, the freedom, the creativity, the opportunity to bolster individuality—is under attack to some extent. We are called "privileged" when all we've done is work, get an education and prioritize, things that seemingly anyone could do, but for some reasons they don't. We are derided as living in a bubble when what we are doing is focusing on making our lives work.

All I can say at this point is that I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to give my kid the kind of early childhood I want for her. The rest will have to simmer in the murky gurglings of my brain for a while, because I don't have a clear cut position.