Beyond Betty: Moving from feminism to human rights

Was the problem that had no name possibly the lack of Wi-Fi?

I wish that line was mine, but I have to give the credit to Noreen Malone, who in a Slate discussion of Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique (on the 50th anniversary of its publication this week) noted:

...Work doesn’t automatically put you on the road to self-actualization (as Friedan implies it does), and the degree to which it contributes to it probably waxes and wanes at different points in a person’s life. What about women (or men!) who genuinely do find the bulk, or even part, of their creative fulfillment in more traditional homemaking tasks, or at least less corporate ones, and who derive their sense of mission from helping people—even if mostly the ones related to them? Friedan doesn’t allow for those scenarios, at least among the educated women she’s writing about, and that feels weird. Also oddly missing in the book’s treatment of parenting, was any kind of real consideration of kids’ needs...

To Malone, I say right on!

I won't lie, I enjoy working, and of course I've been lucky to have a very unique situation (enabled by Wi-Fi!) that let me ride the fence of the SAHM thing and having work satisfaction in semi-creatively satisfying work.

But, I don't know that there are sooo many jobs out there that are sooo interesting and stimulating that workers don't have to psych themselves up for just as much as someone at home would have to do some mental gymnastics to make a "baked potato" or "vacumming" interesting. At least when you do those things you're not doing it for "the man" but for yourself and your own family!

I'm also willing to wager that my grandma who worked in a canning factory would have welcomed the life of suburban housewife ennui...

As a friend commented when I posted the Slate article on Facebook, "That's always where the feminist lionization of work breaks down. Those women are writers and academics, which is not the same thing as having a typical job. When your whole job is self aggrandizement, then of course you love your work! When you're scrubbing toilets or asking would you like fries with that?—not so much." So true!

This recent New York Times opinion piece by Stephanie Coontz attempted to answer "Why Gender Equality Stalled" and raises some interesting points. An excerpt illustrates the frustrating bias toward the idea that women necessarily want to work instead of taking on child- and home-care duties:

So, especially when women are married to men who work long hours, it often seems to both partners that they have no choice. Female professionals are twice as likely to quit work as other married mothers when their husbands work 50 hours or more a week and more than three times more likely to quit when their husbands work 60 hours or more.

The sociologist Pamela Stone studied a group of mothers who had made these decisions. Typically, she found, they phrased their decision in terms of a preference. But when they explained their “decision-making process,” it became clear that most had made the “choice” to quit work only as a last resort — when they could not get the flexible hours or part-time work they wanted, when their husbands would not or could not cut back their hours, and when they began to feel that their employers were hostile to their concerns. Under those conditions, Professor Stone notes, what was really a workplace problem for families became a private problem for women.

This is where the political gets really personal. When people are forced to behave in ways that contradict their ideals, they often undergo what sociologists call a “values stretch” — watering down their original expectations and goals to accommodate the things they have to do to get by. This behavior is especially likely if holding on to the original values would exacerbate tensions in the relationships they depend on.

But, it's really not that simple. Pew Research studies show that the majority of women want to work part-time (which is one reason why Obama's recent attention to universal pre-K may be misguided). Most working fathers, though, say they want to work full-time. At least according to this study, it would appear that men and women want different things—and to me, that's OK! It's also fair to note that different men and different women want different things.

No study is going to capture everyone's wishes and no policy is going to necessarily make everyone's path to what they want easier. We have to blaze our own trails a lot of the time.

Coontz observed:

Under present conditions, the intense consciousness raising about the “rightness” of personal choices that worked so well in the early days of the women’s movement will end up escalating the divisive finger-pointing that stands in the way of political reform. 

One one hand, I am skeptical of "political reform" based on almost everything I've read in recently years from feminists that places workforce engagement above caring for young children and goes to far as to view children basically as some sort of commodity or cogs in the capitalist machine. But, the conclusion of the Coontz piece leaves me hopeful that maybe the feminist movement is beginning to see that work is not the be-all-and-end-all of "equality" (or life) and that different people want different things, and that "people" also means men.

Our goal should be to develop work-life policies that enable people to put their gender values into practice. So let’s stop arguing about the hard choices women make and help more women and men avoid such hard choices. To do that, we must stop seeing work-family policy as a women’s issue and start seeing it as a human rights issue that affects parents, children, partners, singles and elders. Feminists should certainly support this campaign. But they don’t need to own it. 

What Coontz might not realize, though, is that for many talented, educated and able women such as myself, putting my "gender values into practice" for me meant scaling back my career when my baby was born, working part-time from home to be with her, and navigating my own on-ramp as she gets older.

I agree that feminists should not own the work-family policy campaign, because based on what we've heard from leading feminist voices in recent years (Linda Hirshman, I am looking at you) they're going to get it wrong!

Grateful or greedy in America

I feel grateful for the material aspects of my life—all the time. Rarely a day goes by that I don't, in at least some small way recognize that I have it really good.

My house is not impressive, but it's in a good neighborhood and is in generally good repair (knock on wood). We don't have cable TV or flat screen/LCD TVs. We don't have smartphones. Our stove should probably be replaced as it doesn't really heat super well or evenly inside, but it can get the job done. Our refrigerator should probably be replaced. I keep a tupperware container in it under a water drip and change it out every so often when it fills. It basically works, though. One of our cars is 17 years old. The air conditioning doesn't work and the ceiling lining has come off, but it runs (full disclosure our other car is just 7 years old and feels luxurious to me). We could probably get new things as we have a significant amount of cash savings in the bank, but we don't. That's just us. If it works, we use it. When it breaks, we'll replace it. So I do get a little twitchy when I read things like this about allegedly poor people in America, redistribution schemes and all the great things government can provide for people.

I do understand, though, that there are other things the poor may not have—health insurance, for example, or savings, or retirement and things like that—that are not mentioned in the following post and study. But still. I'm mildly skeptical of those who say we need big, new overarching programs.

Anyway, I'm not sure why NRO is tweeting this now, as the post and study is over a year old. But, I remember reading about it at the time and it was interesting to me then as it is now, comparing different points about how many "poor" people in America live as compared with how we live in our family.

  The post cites results of a study from The Heritage Foundation (yeah, yeah, I know, conservative, but I think people should be reading and parsing information from many resources) called “Understanding Poverty in the United States” which notes the following tidbits about "the poor":

• Eighty percent of poor households have air conditioning. By contrast, in 1970, only 36 percent of the entire U.S. population enjoyed air conditioning.
• Fully 92 percent of poor households have a microwave; two-thirds have at least one DVD player and 70 percent have a VCR.
• Nearly 75 percent have a car or truck; 31 percent have two or more cars or trucks.
• Four out of five poor adults assert they were never hungry at any time in the prior year due to lack of money for food.
• Nearly two-thirds have cable or satellite television.
• Half have a personal computer; one in seven have two or more computers.
• More than half of poor families with children have a video game system such as Xbox or PlayStation.
• Just under half — 43 percent — have Internet access.
• A third have a widescreen plasma or LCD TV.
• One in every four has a digital video recorder such as TiVo. 

And the post observes, "TV newscasts about poverty in America usually picture the poor as homeless or as a destitute family living in an overcrowded, rundown trailer. The actual facts are far different:"

• At a single point in time, only one in 70 poor persons is homeless.
• The vast majority of the houses or apartments of the poor are in good repair; only 6 percent are over-crowded. 
• The average poor American has more living space than the average non-poor individual living in Sweden, France, Germany or the United Kingdom.
• Only 10 percent of the poor live in mobile homes or trailers; half live in detached single-family houses or townhouses, while 40 percent live in apartments.
• Forty-two percent of all poor households own their home; on average, it’s a three-bedroom house with one-and-a-half baths, a garage, and a porch or patio.

On the other hand, "the rich" are richer than they have ever been before, too, as reporter in this New York Times editorial.

Or, are they?

It's hard to say.

But, I have to admit, I get fearful and whipped up sometimes over worry about becoming poor, or not being able to get back into the workforce full-time, or our retirement, or my kid's prospects growing up. Or I jump on conversational and link-posting bandwagons crying out for help for these poor, poor people. But maybe I just really don't need to worry so much. (Yes, yes, yes, I know, middle-class privilege, I've got it, but I've been working in some capacity since I was, like, 13 years old and moved out of parents' house at 18, so I'm no stranger to taking care of myself, either.)

Then there's this article from the Boston Review, "Before Greed: Americans Didn’t Always Yearn for Riches." That talks about how  in the time of Lincoln, people strove for a level of "competency," that is, "the ability to support a family and have enough in reserve to sustain it through hard times at an accustomed level of prosperity. When, through effort or luck, a person amassed not only a competency but enough to support himself and his family for his lifetime, he very often retired." I love this.

I feel, to a great extent, that's how we live in our household.

But, the Boston Review article notes, "Most Americans have come to think of the American dream not as a competency but rather as the accumulation of great wealth." So, it seems to me that those on both ends of the spectrum, and the policy people need to tuck things in a bit on each end. People don't need the lifestyles seen in the Queen of Versailles movie (pre-crash), but it can also be argued that "poor" people don't need flat screen TVs, Tivos, new cars, and all those trappings, either.  What they do need, of course, is affordable healthcare (this links to a must-read, loooong read TIME article) and to not have to bail out banks (much shorter must-read), so, it's a mixed bag.

I just have to wonder if things are ever as dire, across the boards, as the media makes things out to be, and I think, maybe an understanding of the mixed bag can alleviate some anxiety. Gratitude works.

Newest 'final words' on the blog

I've started and stopped this blog many times, frustratingly proclaiming a last post, but always coming back. But this would definitely be a great post to end with, even though I know it might not be my last. Definitely something I need to work on, and the reason why a few posts I had in the works will never see the light of day.

Same dribble Down Under on 'slacker moms'

I follow some Twitterers in Australia because it gives me fresh tweets in the middle of the night when I sometimes get up and read my Kindle, lying in the dark, next to my kid. I've gotten into this weird habit where I'll wake up in the middle of the night and leave my husband's bed then go into my kid's room and sleep with her on the full-size floor futon—plenty of room for both of us and it's firmer and she is a super sound sleeper so the light of the Kindle doesn't bother her like it would my husband, plus she's got a humidifier in there and I just like it!

So I came across this Sydney Morning Herald article that's been making a bit of a splash: Over-mothered? No, over mothering and it's the same sort of theme I've seen in American mommy culture that I think they're calling the "slacker mom movement." The BlueMilk blogger responded to the post with what I thought were some valid retorts and lots of good links.

A big part of the response was pointing out that it's all cool and liberating for privileged white mamas to be lackadaisical, but if a poor, brown skinned mama went this route, she'd be under scrutiny from more powerful elements than the neighborhood biddies and quite possibly at risk of a visit from Child Protective Services. I get that, and that's valid, but I have to say I'm a little weary of so many discussions turning to my privilege. I know I am lucky and I know I am blessed (or whatever)—and yes, privileged—but each in our own ways we're all muddling through. And hearing other white women trot out the white privilege thing seems like their safe place to critique something, you know, get on the side of some underdog, further under and doggier than the hapless slacker moms.

The response had some other insightful aspects on how "the slacker mother movement seems to be taking a nasty turn lately towards judging mothers it sees as being too dedicated to the pursuit of motherhood." Which would resonate with me if I gave a shit about whether or not some random blatherer on the internet was judging me. (Ph.D. in Parenting had a good post about this the other day.)

Maybe it is because of my place of privilege (oh man, now I'm doing it!) that I have never felt pressure to "mother" a certain way. I did the homebirth thing, I breastfed 33 months, I stayed home with the kid in her earliest years, we co-slept. But the child has seen a lot of Dora and Diego. I've yelled, I've spanked (regret, regret, regret). The child had to have several cavities filled when she was four because I just kind of spaced on the notion that she needed to have her teeth brushed after every meal. (I didn't, and I didn't have many cavities, but maybe I have very unusual teeth, or different saliva, or didn't eat as many foods with sugars in them—who knows, I messed up!) I don't feel excessively guilty about the teeth or the TV, but I'm not going to glibly brag about it either and take on "slacker mom" as some sort of persona.

What I don't get about the "slacker mom" thing is why people would revel in this sense of being crappy at something and not caring—especially when it comes to something as precious and important as one's child. "Slacking" seems to be about backlash against some standard of perfection, but I'd argue that this standard was never real and smart women know this. "Slacking" is just too reactionary.

I don't really embrace the "slacker" persona in anything I do, though. I try to do my best at work, I try to do my best eating healthfully and staying in shape. I try to be kind-hearted and compassionate. Yes, I fall short in these areas, but I don't feel threatened by "perfection" and get mad and run to the "slacker" credo, just saying "fuck all," like, forever and always. I just say, hey, I'm human and I'll just try to do better tomorrow.

The real me is the mom who gets down on the floor and plays with the child—when I feel like it, which is sometimes, but not always. I do art projects...sometimes. I bake for the child's birthday (I am not really so into bringing treats to school because I don't believe school is a place for this and if every kid for every birthday brought treats, they'd really just be having too many treats...) I read to her, do math and science projects with her, a lot of the time, but not all the time. I do enjoy building with Lego. Overall, I'd say I'm into it, but I like my web surfing, beery nights with friends and long runs alone, too. That's what being a normal, balanced person is. At my core though, I have to admit I am pretty passionate about my kid, and I don't care if that's not cool.

I understand the Jane Caro piece is supposed to be humor, but I think that joke is played out.

Life in limbo

So last week, I heard from a colleague at my big client, in  my old department, that he's leaving to go to Sao Paulo and get his MBA—some guys have all the luck! Which meant, for me, an opening to get back in to a full-time, in-office position. I didn't think too, too much of it the first couple days after I'd heard his news, though it did cross my mind. Then, my boss/client lead called me, from her home, while out sick, to tell me they were looking at this opening as an opportunity to bring me back, pending budget and staff need factors. I was pretty stoked. While I'd stated that my ideal would be to go back this fall, at the beginning of the 2013-14 school year (so I could spend "one last summer" with my kid), I'd let them know in no uncertain terms that I'd be willing, at this point, to jump back in whenever they needed me.

After the call, I immediately started figuring out childcare options for after school and summer (both readily available) and sorting out with my husband how we'd manage our schedule, how much they'd need to make in an offer for it to be worth our while, and we were ready. (The boss confirmed they could pay at least what I was making before I'd opted for part-time consulting when my kid was born five years ago, and as an on-ramping mom in a shitty economy, that was good enough for me. She seemed very concerned, too, with not "insulting" me with a lousy offer. Imagine that!)

My heart had been so heavy (for quite a while, weeks...months...) not knowing "my place in the world," having this big empty hole six hours a day when my child's at school, not feeling motivated to do much more than whatever paid work I have (which does not take six hours, and often comes at the wrong time of day, when she is around and I'd rather be focusing on her, but can't)...and then I feel so guilty and lame that I don't make better use of all the free time I have during the days. I was really looking forward to diving into the "back-to-the-office" job, if only as a means to shake me out of this place I'm in.

But, I talked to the boss Friday and she said that they are not going to fill the position right away and that she's just going to send me a contract for another year of the work I've been doing in the mean time (with a "raise" commensurate to the raises other people there got, so that's nice...) She said the soonest they'd have me, or anyone else, in the position is May. Now, I know that if they were going to have someone else, they'd need to put an ad out and start looking, like, now, probably (to find a quality person) and she said they weren't advertising, so....

I don't think they're messing with me, trying to be sneaky, lie about what they're doing. I'm aware of a big budget hit they took recently and I think they are trying to save money by having the position vacant for a while. It's unfortunate because things in the department are already so backlogged, but, it is what it is. The boss tells me they are still very interested in having me back, that "nobody does what you do" and that she's told the president that I want a full-time job and may look elsewhere, with them running the risk of "losing" me...

So, I guess I am in a good place because I really didn't want to, ideally, with regard to my kid, do full-time til after summer and any amount of putting it off while still remaining an option is good, for a while (though they might want me in May, or June, or July...who even knows!) but, at the same time, I am disappointed because I was ready to dive in, like now (as in March, April...) and now I really need to find a new lease on life to shake things up for me because the long days of reading the internet and doing nothing are really, deeply wearing on my soul. I will do it, though...

On Vagina

Well, I finally broke down and got Naomi Wolfe's Vagina: A New Biography. I thought it might help me out with my sexuality, but I think instead it led to a fight with my husband.

The other night when we were supposed to do it, he did what he usually does—laid down next to me with his eyes closed like he was asleep and started rubbing and scratching my back. I usually do the same thing and if we don't pass out and fall asleep we might start kissing, I might start stroking him and it might lead to sex. Or, it might lead to me complaining about why he always lays there with his eyes closed.

See, Naomi Wolf told me that the adoring male gaze is part of the "Goddess Array" and that I need it to feel special and get turned on. It kind of made sense. After nine years of marriage I do get the feeling that he doesn't even look at me, pay attention to me or notice me, really. I feel pretty fine about how I look and so I don't need his gaze for self-esteem, but I do understand how, if he gave me more of a signal that he saw me, I might respond with a little more fire than I do.

So, I called him on the eyes closed thing. He defensively gave me a bunch of excuses that it was awkward for him to stare at me when he was so close, that his eyes couldn't focus well, he didn't even have his contacts on. It kind of made sense what he was saying, but, Naomi said he should be looking at me.

He's also supposed to treat me like a Goddess—this is never going to happen.

One of the things I value about my relationship with my husband is our friendliness. We are friends. We are friends who have sex. As much as I may be into my power as a woman, I don't think he is ever going to look at me as a Goddess. That's not to say I don't think I am worthy. I do. It's just not who my husband is. And I don't think he's the type who would grow into it and I'm not sure I want him to—it sounds kind of smarmy.

There's a lot that's good about the Vagina book, but there's a lot that's corny—and suspect.  Lots of reviews get more into it (The New Yorker, Jezebel, Feminste, WIRED...) so I am going to stick to a my personal reaction rather than anything societal or overarching.

Many times while I was reading it, I couldn't help but wondering, what about the guys?  It was all, women want this...women need that. It seemed to have an undercurrent of...men just want to get laid and so they need to do all this attentive stuff for their women and the men will get better sex out of it. There was this unspoken assumption of men taking the lead sexually and that men were kind of monolithic in their sexuality. I realize the book wasn't supposed to be about men's sexuality, but it did seem to assume a lot about that.

I like the idea that our bodies (our vaginas) should be sacred and private and not abused or made fun of. I don't think it's revelatory that if women are raped it damages them wholly, not just physically in their vaginas (Wolfe has much to say about rape as weapon of war and such, and I just kept thinking, of course, of course, these things destroy women's self-confidence and lives overall).

It makes sense, too, that a woman with a satisfying sex life in a good relationship would have the happiness, peace and wellness spill over to other areas of her life, like work and creativity, as well. However, I don't think that it has to be vaginal sex only and I don't think that an otherwise healthy woman who has not been raped or otherwise damaged and abused but who may not be having amazing vaginal sex will necessarily suffer in other areas of her life. Sex is not everything.

I don't say this just because I don't have vaginal orgasms (never have). I say it moreso because I'm not that interested (at all?) in having vaginal orgasms. If it happened, cool, but I don't feel like I am missing something and am not now driven to pursue it. Of course, maybe it's a shortcoming in me that I don't even care. But, to me, it's not the kind of orgasm my husband gives or doesn't give me, or even the sexual techniques at all that are important, it's the attention and care overall (yes, sometimes lacking) but I don't think it has to be so prescribed.

Wolfe does say in the book that she doesn't mean any of this to necessarily be prescriptive, but more of an a la carte assortment of things she found out in her research and connections she made. I question much of what she calls "science"—she relies a lot on rat studies to make her cases. She mentions as an aside a sugar rush from semen and I just wonder how much a guy would have to cum for the amount to, chemically, really evoke anything physiologically in a woman that she could really feel. One Amazon reviewer lists suggestions for Google searches pointing toward articles critical of Wolfe's interpretation of the science: Neuroscientists take aim at Naomi Wolf's theory of the "conscious vagina"; Naomi Wolf's "Vagina" is full of bad science about the brain; Pride and Prejudice, by Zoë Heller (The New York Review of Books); Feminist Dopamine, Conscious Vaginas, and the Goddess Array; Of Mice and Women: Animal Models of Desire, Dread, and Despair; and Upstairs, Downstairs; `Vagina: A New Biography,' by Naomi Wolf (The New York Times).

Also, the tantric coach who charges $150 per hour for "yoni" work, including hands-on massage grosses me out.

I enjoyed reading about different historical mores related to the vagina, although certain parts of the past and certain current practices within cultures that denigrate women were troubling. If anything, it made me grateful to be a grown woman in the West married to a kind, if not stunningly tantric, man, even with the porn-addled consciousness that supposedly ruins us all. (I think some people of my and my husband's age may have escaped exposure to and getting hooked on or damaged by some of the more distasteful or harmful porn.) I have to be careful not to focus on ways my husband may not be treating me like the Goddess I allegedly am. Maybe try and come up with some ways to quietly evoke this in him, because my direct requests for things like eye contact don't usually work. I'm not sure knowing what I know now after reading Vagina will improve my sex life, but maybe that wasn't the point. It was her personal discovery, not mine.

That funny feeling...again...

So I have that funny stomach-buzzing, tight-chest/heart anxiety feeling again. It's not a physical problem like I am going to have a heart attack or be sick or anything. I know what it is. It's anxiety. I can't pinpoint what caused it (causes it) but I can give some details on a bunch of little things that I think contribute to it...maybe.

I think it's at it's height right now because I need to run or do some exercise to burn off a bit of the frustration I've been feeling—except I can't because I have a client call in about 35 minutes (well, I did, til she postponed it another 15 minutes, and will probably then also be late, which means I could have ran or done some exercise and alleviated myself somewhat of this feeling, but now I can't because I'm on to writing to fill the time til the client call...ugh).

It may have started yesterday when I took my kid to this fancy-pants playground. She'd been there before and then she's been seeing it in a video she has and she kept asking to go. School was out yesterday, it was unseasonably warm, and so, we went. I was glad to take her somewhere special that she wanted to go, but I myself am not super crazy about the place. It's nice that it is 100% handicapped accessible, that's great. But it's, like, a 30-minute drive away and it's kind of in a shi-shi "neighborhood" (you can't really call it a "neighborhood" exactly because it's in a suburb with rolling hills and multi-acre lots, but anyway...) and there is always this weird mix of "the beautiful people"—moms with $700 riding boots, Chanel sunglasses, blown out hair and makeup—and then the nannies. Of course, there are "tourists" like me who go there, too, sometimes...and like this mom of a kid from my kid's old preschool who I saw and was trying to avoid.

So, I was having some fun walking around, following my kid around as she played "Froggy Fairytale Land," pretending she was a frog and leading me on a tour of her homeland, avoiding some bad guys here and there, achieving some little adventure goals along the way. Being with her lights up my heart I love to watch her facial expressions when she talks, love to hear her voice, her ideas.

I have to admit sometime I grow weary of her fantasy play, though, and I have to tell her so, now that she is getting older. She had woken up wanting to play mommy and baby animal, so we were hyenas. Then she wanted to be a pet cat that I was adopting. In the car ride to the playground, she was a dog who was going to marry our real dog. I couldn't take it anymore. It takes a lot of effort for the adult mind to engage in imaginative play like this while at the same time being grounded in the real world, taking care of the adult things that need to be taken care of like making and cleaning up breakfast, responding to emails, and...driving! I told her I feel kind of lonely sometimes and really would rather just talk to her as her real self. I told her I like her, I don't want to talk to a bunch of different pretend animals all day, that I want to talk to her. She seemed a little disappointed, but she "got" it and then I engaged her in a real-life conversation.

Back to the playground. After indulging in some fantasy frog play, she wanted me to play hide-and-seek. I generally don't like to play hide-and-seek at playground (or places other than our own yard) because after all, it's my job to watch my kid and know where she is and it makes me nervous to not know where she is. But, I gave in. The first couple hides I cheated and watched her, doing that thing all parents do where they pretend not to be able to find the kid and then they pop out and laugh and it is all so cute. The final hide, though, I actually lost track of her. It's a sprawling playground with lots of structures. So, I was wandering around looking for her for what felt like quite a while. I was a little panicky, but not extremely so. She's not a baby or toddler anymore. When I was her age, I probably went to the corner playground all by myself, so was it really a big deal that I couldn't find her for a few minutes? But, then I started to get a little panicky and mad. And to boot, the children of that mom from the preschool that I was trying to avoid were following me around. I don't know if they recognized me or my kid. I do know that they know I was looking for my child and they were tailing me, in a way I felt pretty sure was mocking or making fun of me. Maybe I am too sensitive or reading too much into it, but to me, it is rude and disrespectful to follow someone around this way. I never did like this mom (or her friend who was there with here awful kids too). It was so infuriating. I told the kids after several pauses and dirty looks to stop following me and that it was rude what they were doing. The friend of the mom collected them shortly after that, not acknowledging me, and it's not clear whether they noticed me or not. And shortly after that, I found my child. I scolded her mildly, but didn't want to take my frustration out on her. I just told her we weren't going to play hide-and-seek at playgrounds anymore and I told her about the awful children following me and she said "I'll protect you from them!" She is the best.

So, that caused me anxiety. Then, coming home, I had to make sure the child did her homework —which I'd lost cleaning off my desk of the gazillion papers the school sends home. Since I lost her homework, I had her make her own little booklet. All they do is color pictures and identify words with certain letters in them, a task which is far beneath my kid's level anyway, and I always make her do some element of extra work, like actually writing out the sentences in her own hand on lined paper, or something like that. While supervising her homework, I have to field a bunch of emails from an annoying person about issues that are really beyond my purview. But, I have this thing where I try to please and look like I am doing all I can to help. Still, when asked about things I don't really understand or control, it makes me very anxious.

Now, though, today, I am also feeling anxious because I miss her. Days when it is just me and her are even better sometimes than weekends with all three of us because they are like the golden baby days of..."just us"... I love having my husband home, too, and the time for myself that having him also parenting allows, but there is a different dynamic when he's home that's sometimes more chaotic (read, less under my control) than when it's just me and her. Now it's just me, alone, with my work and I miss her face and her words.