Entries from March 2006 ↓

Linda Hirshman Does Not Speak For This Woman

I don’t watch television; I heard about this interview secondhand and had to watch the interview on the web.Good Morning America: The Mommy Wars

I don’t know why I let this annoy me. I really shouldn’t, but it has been eating at me. Perhaps I’m feeling defensive about my own choice to stay home. I’m irritated with Linda Hirshman for perpetuating division between women. Our current lifestyles do enough to interefere with female bonding (for lack of a better word). Hirshman stated to the effect that she isn’t judging, she’s basing her opinion on Western World History. What about the rest of history? What about how women used to come together in support for life’s hardships and joys? Ms. Hirshman, did you happen to see any evidence about how close-knit families used to be? How they helped with childrearing and when someone became ill? We now hire out for those services. It’s great for the economy, but how is it for our souls?

I chose to come home. Lying in a hospital bed for a week certainly put a whole lot of perspective on the value of my child. I could have gone back to work. I could be successful with my former employer, but I’d be working restaurant hours and exposing myself to many temptations that are not suited to raising a stable family.

As far as the happiness level that Hirshman continually referred to, there is more to childhood than a “happiness level.” There are moral and spiritual foundations to be built. I am of the opinion that they aren’t easily instilled on weekends and holidays. Does anyone remember the spike in syphilis the CDC found in Conyers, GA? Just in case a refresher is needed The Lost Children of Rockdale County. These parties were happening in households where both parents were at work. They weren’t happening late at night, these occured during those crucial afterschool hours.

Women who stay home are not ruining the feminist movement. We are not opting out. I firmly believe in equal pay for equal work, just like I would believe it for any person, regardless of their circumstance. However, I do not believe in ‘equal pay’ for unequal work. Women do make sacrifices when they take time out for their families. It is that, a sacrifice, their paychecks or career tracks will suffer, but that is a choice that is made when the decision to have children is chosen. A man who periodically took breaks from the corporate ladder would find the same closed doors. I believe women have worked hard to give us these choices and I appreciate them. I am forever indebted to those who came before me, for having had the ability to attain a formal education and for having had the choice to establish a career. If something were to happen, if my comfortable bubble were to burst, I would have to return to the workforce and I would probably have to retrain, but we have planned for that scenario. I am content with my “mindless routines” and “repetitous job.” I knew it going in.

My shallow side has been fighting with me for this entire entry. These comments have no merit, they just make me feel better. To the lady at the end of the interview who says to the effect that her daughter wants to share a desk and work at your magazine: Lady, listen to what you are saying, it may make you happy to hear, but it breaks my heart, she is saying she MISSES her mom and can’t wait until she can spend all day with you. Ms. Hirshman, you may be well educated, but you are a lousy elocutionist. You sound as though the marbles that fell out of your head are rolling around your mouth. Finally, Ms. Hirshman, I’m no fashion diva or beauty queen, but, bless your heart, get a decent haircut.

Daytime TV Rots Your Brain

The other day I mentioned that politics are ever so much more interesting than soap operas.

Daytime TV, poor mental scores link

But the findings do point to some association between TV choices and intellectual function, and could prove useful in evaluating older people for cognitive decline, according lead investigator Dr Joshua Fogel of Brooklyn College of the City University of New York.

For example, compared with women who preferred to watch news programs, those who favoured soaps were more than seven times more likely to show signs of impairment on one of the tests, while talk show fans were more than 13 times more likely to demonstrate impairment.

We live somewhat out in the sticks, with very poor tv reception. Every once in a while I think about shelling out a few bucks for basic cable. I don’t think it will be a temptation any longer.

Dad of the Year

Well, I hope the woman who chose to reproduce with this guy is proud.

Man’s Toddler Son Wanders Into Strip Club

Just a few comments: A three-four year old is a pre-schooler not a toddler. This clarification does NOT make anything any better, I just hate misleading terms. I feel guilty if I have to run in and pay for gas and the rugrats are sleeping.
I just love the charge “encouraging a minor child to be in need of supervision.” I wish I could start passing out tickets for that.

Flashing Back

I’m a political geek. I usually have wtma 1250am on in the background so I can keep tabs on things. Well, that is when I’m not being forced to listen to The Wiggles. I must mention that my two year old picked up “dammit” from a spot by Radio Free Rocky D. How do you explain that one to Grandma?

Moving on. . . I was perusing Donna Darlin’s Blog over on myspace (aka Emo Teen Hell and found an entry that took me back to highschool.

I was a nerd. No, really, I was (am). I never really had to worry about sharing my seat, it wasn’t in high demand. Three quarters of my bus lived by the fairgrounds, some were from Tall Pines and a couple were from Caromi Village (just the name conjures up the smell) This never made much sense to me, it was the potpouri of Stratford’s bus routes. I remember sitting there doing my homework, minding my own business; I heard and felt a soft thud. I glanced over at what appeared to be a dead squirrel. I poked the mysterious object with a pencil and realized it was someone’s weave. Thankfully, its owner appeared to reclaim it, as I was rendered speechless. She carried it away, clutching it like a trophy. I’ve never been able to get that image out of my mind.

I stumbled upon

this news article. . .
Child Bride

This morning I sit in front of the computer with tears streaming down my face. I just don’t understand. It’s not ignorance and it’s not a cultural misunderstanding. The people responsible lack even the most basic spark of human compassion.

Hooray for Getting Back on Track

I am so excited to finally be optimistic about getting back to what should be our schedule. Aidan is doing so well; he’s just a different kid. He’s constantly saying, “Mama! Hear those noises?” He hears the trains again. I thought he’d grown out of getting excited everytime a train went by. No, he had just been unable to hear them.
Friday we joined a group of moms out at CawCaw Interpretive Center, a state park. Aidan had a great time running around with the other kids. The weather was perfect; there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. If it weren’t for the yellow tinge to everything, it looked more like October than March. I’m not sure what the black pots in the picture were for, to me they look like mosquito breeding vats. Yum-o

Today, I’m going to be brave and hit the library after the gym. I just may be a glutton for punishment.

My Yard of Shame

We live in a somewhat pretentious neighborhood, qualified by the fact that it is rural South Carolina and really there is only a certain attainable level of pretension. We have small children and do our own yardwork. Unfortunately, at times these things can be mutually exclusive. I was quite pregnant, last summer. Wait, that doesn’t paint a very accurate picture; let me try again. There are times when God takes a magnifying glass and places it between the sun and the earth. That magnified beam of sunlight focuses on my corner of the world from June through September. Typically, I revel in summer, it is my absolute glory. However, when I’m seven, eight, and nine months pregnant it loses its luster. I did not plan on doing it twice, it just happened that way.

Needless to say, the yard was neglected, last year.

March is weed season, the gass is still dormant, but the weeds grow like wildfire. Well, they do in my yard. Our yard isn’t huge, but as I do laps with the lawnmower I feel it stretching and mocking me. Last week, I became disgusted with the condition of our lawn. Well, lawn is probably not accurate as that connotates the actual existence of grass. I enjoy mowing the yard; it is the perfect excuse to be left alone. I’ve been doing some research and think the mulching mower we’ve used for the past couple of years has probably been making our weed problem worse. So, I borrowed our neighbor’s rear bagger. I will miss them; they are moving to Delaware. I hadn’t cut more than one hundred square feet when it died.

As I can’t mow the lawn during the day when Tim is at work, the yard weighed heavily on me, all week long. The weeds got taller. I quit taking Sir Thousand hands outside because I could only monitor his whereabouts by the rustling of the weeds. Cars on blocks sprouted, worn out tires and old appliances appeared. I took to wearing dark sunglasses and avoided eye contact with the neighbors.

Finally, Saturday dawned; I anticipated the drying of the dew. I waited until a reasonable hour and called my neighbor to borrow the lawnmower. They are trying to sell their home, so they were thrilled I was finally going to take care of the mess. About halfway through the baby was hungry, so Tim agreed to finish. He made maybe two laps around the yard before it died on him.

So, the yard had a few more hours with which to tease me. Tim came home with a lawnmower and now I feel positively spoiled. I am so stoked, this one has power drive. I hope this will be the last time we are the the disgrace of the neighborhood.

We Escaped!

This is Aunt Teppy, my sister. Isn’t she pretty? She called me a couple of weeks ago because I am completely oblivious to local events, at times. Tim and I’s favorite comedian, Brian Regan, was going to be in town. She called to tell me that and, here’s the kicker, volunteered to babysit! Of course we took her up on it. Tim and I, on the rare occasion we get out, trade sitting services with other couples or pay obscene amounts to neighborhood teens.

We had a great time. We are so used to eating while tag teaming the boys that we both scarfed our dinner and were left with ample time to sit and stare at each other. without being ‘campers’. To the lady who sat behind us, “Learn to modulate your voice or at the very least learn to carry on an interesting conversation.” We are both compulsive eavesdroppers; probably because we’re both too boring to have our own conversation that doesn’t involve something coming out of our children. No one, in our vicinity had anything remotely interesting to talk about, so we left.

Brian Regan was playing at the Charleston Performing Arts Center. The show was great, he had a lot of material we hadn’t heard and he’s great live. As far as the venue I have one rave and one minor concern, both involve the restroom. I was highly impressed, after the show, going to the restroom wasn’t a huge ordeal. In fact, there were so many stalls it looked like a synchronized sport. I am not usually impressed by restroom facilities. Everything was very clean, it was nothing like a stadium where women are terrified of actually coming in contact with a surface. Well, everyone except my stepdaughter, who I once caught picking pennies up off the floor at a Charleston Riverdogs game. I had to completely sanitize her before we could let her back in the house.

On to my concern, I measure in at a hair under six feet tall. Last night, I wore heels and felt like an amazon surveying pygmies. Perhaps Charleston is known for its persons of small stature (midgets, dwarves, or various other little people). I’ve only seen a couple in the area, in my entire life. However, they must have a strong lobbying committee. I washed my hands and looked for the dryers or paper towel dispensers. I completely missed it in my first glance around the room because, and I kid you not, the dispenser was at knee level. Sure, it’s a great height, for my two year old; I really think someone had to have messed up the installation. However, according to Tim, it was the same in the men’s restroom, go figure.

Oh and to whoever designed the parking lot: I love you, I really love you. This was probably the best designed parking area I’ve been in. Seriously, we didn’t show up obscenely early and managed a great spot. We were out of the parking lot in less than two minutes, absolutely unheard of in my experience.

A Taco Smell run completed our kid free evening. We are obviously not partying people anymore, but that’s OK. I can appreciate an evening out, now, without paying for it the next day. If you get the chance to see Brian Regan, go for it, he’s so funny, but it’s an event you could take your mom to and not cringe with embarassment.

Little Accomplishments

Yesterday I fixed all the hooks (10) for the shades in our Florida room. It makes such a huge difference, not having the cords strewn about to hold the shades up. I couldn’t peel the sticky hooks off (the previous owner used them), so I screwed a brass screw into the center of each piece. The parts the cords actually wrapped around had snapped off over the last two years.

I also washed all the windows. Maybe someday we’ll actually have furniture in there.


I have been out of the loop. Aidan’s sickness and my own mastitis has caused me to not pay attention to the news as of late. Last night, I was finally able to attend a small group meeting. (This is a way the church I attend creates involvement for both learning and volunteer work.) In an off topic discussion another member brought this up:
Poll reveals 40pc of Muslims want sharia law in UK
. Being the nerd I am, it piqued my interest.

This morning I’ve been researching Sharia. Please note the article is flagged to have disputes with accuracy and neutrality. However, I just wanted a basic understanding of what Islamic Law encomapasses.

I do not trust polls; I think it is highly impropable to find an accurate representation of the general populace who are willing to participate in polls. I’ve been polled a couple of times, but until this past year I had never received a call and no one in my circle of friends has ever brought it up. My two year old is not a good sounding board for political discussion, so I’m actually appreciative of the outlet a poll provides. I believe a large portion of society, present company excluded, can’t be bothered with politics. I hear excuses about how dull it is. I just smile and nod while wanting to shake them and explain how politics is so rife with sex and corruption that it is far more interesting than any soap opera drivel. It has ramifications that will affect our lives and the lives of our kids. However, I know better than to attempt a conversion.

I guess my mindless blathering is an attempt at saying: the headline is disturbing, but I personally doubt the accuracy of the data. I find the idea of the implementation of Sharia law something out of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. It disturbs me on a deep level, but that is tempered with its unlikely occurence.