Let's go with "Strongly Disagree"

I wrote some weeks ago about selfishness and the lack of understanding of what makes most of the world's personal relationships go 'round, after reading the Atlantic's piece All the Single Ladies. Now there's an even fluffier (that's actually a good thing, since the Atlantic piece was as dense as bad fruitcake) bit of nonsense in the New York Times, by author Dominique Browning. In this paean to single womanhood - written, perhaps, as Ann Althouse has posited, to make the Times' large contingent of 50-something female readers feel good - Browning lies on her deck after a fall and thinks happy thoughts about being a single woman. Some gems from this insightful piece include:

"Because many women, once released from marriage, seem to feel that it would take an act of madness to move back into a setup that involves not only housekeeping in all its manifold time-sucking beauty but also husband-keeping." [my emphasis] Really? How about the attendant "wife-keeping" that goes on in a marriage? The "to have and to hold" promised in so many wedding vows? And is the time-suck known as "house-keeping" (never mind that I suspect there's a woman hired for this purpose in Browning's household, given that she is financially able to live alone in Manhattan) really that much harder when there are two people in the house instead of one? Even if you reduce a husband to no better than an annoying pet, as Browning does, certainly even they can be trained to take out the trash and load the dishwasher now and then.

"Women alone eat breakfast at 11 if we feel like it, lunch at 3 and dinner never if that’s the way the day is winding down. Single women do not worry about cooking unless we want to. And we don’t want to unless we like to." I have not only a husband but (gasp!) two male children in the house, and I, too, manage to eat pretty much whatever and whenever I want. I don't cook when I don't want to; Husband is more than happy to sample the delights of the Whole Foods hot bar for dinner, and the boys are always up for Chick-fil-a. Mealtimes don't seem like such a big problem to me, sister.

"We love the give and take of making our own decisions." There is give and take in making one's own decisions? Who are you compromising with, exactly? Be real: there is no compromise when you live alone. I know this from listening to my own mother, who asks disbelievingly "what do you mean, you didn't your first choice on where you're going for vacation this year? how can this be?" And then I have to patiently explain to her that when you are married and you respect your spouse, you don't always get exactly what you want every single minute of the day. This confuses her, as it obviously confuses Ms. Browning.

"A marriage is a lot of work. Strike that. A man is a lot of work." Let's ask Ms. Browning's ex if he thinks women are a lot of work, shall we? I bet we can all guess what he will say.

And so the Times and the Atlantic go ever more frequently for Vanity Fair's audience, and put these poorly written, confusing pieces of misandry where real thought used to be. I'm not surprised, nor am I very disappointed. Pandering to one's audience, no matter how low-brow, is a time-honored tradition in the media. And think of the money it saves those readers who actually care about the content of the magazine or newspaper, rather than just the aging name on the cover! Sounds like a win-win situation for me.

Perhaps now someone from the Times will cab over to Ms. Browning's place and pick her up off her deck. All those assistant editors have to be good for something...

Singularity

I read the Atlantic's cover piece, All the Single Ladies, a few weeks ago, and I've been chewing on whether to write something on it or not. I think it's pretty obvious that author Kate Bolick and I couldn't lead more different lives. It's probably only slightly less obvious that I find hers to be almost completely shallow and lacking in meaning, mainly because she has deliberately separated herself from belonging to the most quintessential "community" mankind has ever created: a family.

I find her decision shallow because she seems to have made it in order to search further in life for self-satisfaction and happiness: some kind of "meaning" that apparently continues to elude her. She fails to realize that most of us find exactly these things by taking the path that she dismisses. In fact, the very reason that marriage and families endure as bulwarks of society despite the many attacks on them is because so many people have realized that focusing solely on their own happiness and fulfillment just doesn't get them there. When they take the lens off themselves, and turn towards helping others - that is when not just happiness but true joy descend. Does that mean that married life and family life is a peach? Of course not. But anything we do that has a higher purpose - even if that purpose is not a religous or metaphysical one, but simply the desire to consistently put another's needs before our own - will bring back gifts we can never hope to measure.

Ms. Bolick has lived her life lacking practically any kind of moral compass and now it is beginning to show. She has put herself first and all others who could have made her life richer second, and now writes with some bewilderment how this order of things could have failed her. It fails everyone, Ms. Bolick; even without a mother interested in teaching you this lesson (and yours clearly was not), you could have looked about you and discovered that quite quickly. But the mirror must have been much more fascinating, and so you missed it. Instead of grasping why people get married and have families - not for sociological or economic reasons, but for real, human reasons such as love and companionship - All the Single Ladies looks at marriage as a curiosity that can't quite be understood and can be easily dismissed as "just another odd way some people order their lives." In this conclusion, Bolick misses the raison d'etre of the vast majority of her fellow human beings; not just her long, meandering article but her life itself is the poorer for it.

Things That Pain Me to Tell You

I'm complaining, which I'm sure you all want to hear about. But there are a few things that have been peeving me mightily, and I'd like to get them off my metaphorical chest.

1. Parents at taekwondo who help their children get into and out of their sparring gear need to Get. A. Life. If my boys can do this themselves for three solid years, trust me, your child can, too. Because honestly, it really looks pathetic to have a 9 year old standing there idly while his mama pulls off his fighting gear. The word "wuss" comes to mind. I know it's not an earth-shattering problem I'm talking about, but give your kid some dignity and let him dress himself, okay?

2. Poverty tourism gets my goat just about more than anything. This could (and should) be a post unto itself; the same is true with #3 below. But since I'm not involved in anything remotely related to ministry I think I will just leave the real writing of it to the experts. But in my own opinion: pastors and the like flying off to get photo ops in third world garbage dumps should be forced to stay there for several weeks before flying home again. Maybe then they'd just donate the cost of their tickets, etc, to a long-term mission that actually does some good and be done with it.

3. And finally, if one more person tells me that Caylee Anthony was a late term abortion, and tries to use a dead two year old to justify their anti-abortion position, I might just scream so loud you can hear me in Idaho. Why? Well, first of all, let's remember that you, personally, were not on the jury, and that Casey Anthony was indeed acquitted of harming her child. Did she behave bizarrely in the extreme, lie like a dog, and do all sorts of other inappropriate things? Yes, she did. Did she act like you would have had your child died or gone missing? Probably not. But did a jury of her peers convict her of harming one hair on her daughter's head? No, they did not. And so your abortion analogy breaks down before it even leaves the driveway. Secondly, even if Casey Anthony was convicted, the whole statement is still a really crappy idea. Is abortion a sin? I'm quite sure. So is cheating on your husband and your taxes, failing to help widows, coveting your neighbor's riding lawnmower, and being rude to your mother. God will sort all those things out - as well as other, more serious infractions - in the great by and by. But those of us hanging out down here on Planet Earth should not run around spending all our time pointing out the sins of others and shouting "you're as bad as a child murderer!" I mean, if that's what you want Christians to be known for, I guess you should go ahead. Tell every woman who has had an abortion that it's as if she drowned her child in a swamp and left her there. What a good idea. While you're at it, tell every guy who cheats on his wife that he might as well have murdered her, he's such a piece of whaleshit. That will spread the love of Christ mighty well. That will let everyone know the Church is a hospital for sinners (instead of a room full of finger-pointing hypocrites) immediately. I'm sorry for the sarcasm, but can't we judge in our hearts without acting so judgemental? Can't we think to ourselves "I would never, ever do that!" and then let it go? Because while yes, an unborn baby is a person, so is a sinner. And if you give all the sinners in the world the middle finger instead of grace, I'm afraid you're going to be left on your mountain of self-righteousness quite alone.

Okay, I'm done now. Unless you want me to go on about the weather ...

Just a Thought

I was talking with some acquaintances tonight - nice people, all of them, I have to say - and I was puzzled to find the conversation I walked into consisting of (A) decrying the insularity of all people who live in "small town America" (upstate NY and Katy TX in particular) while (B) using (A) as an excuse to never go outside Loop 610 in Houston, unless it's to (1) shop at The Galleria or (2) leave town altogether.

I have to say I'm confused. Using the supposed insularity of others to explain your own inability to get along with anyone "not your own kind" seems to not work very well as an argument. Just a thought, but perhaps some self-reflection and honesty is in order. Why not just admit it? Say out loud "I don't like people who aren't like me and I want absolutely nothing to do with them" and be done with it. After all, that's really what you said already - you just needed some circular self-justification to get there.

Dignity

Nicholas Kristof writes in the New York Times today that the best way to "save" mothers in the developing world is to ... prevent them from becoming mothers in the first place.

I know, you're thinking: Tari, it's not April 1st. This is not the time for such jokes. But really, I'm not joking. On this of all days in the year someone actually thinks it's a good time to make such a suggestion.

Is maternal mortality a huge problem in developing countries? Hell yes. Do women need more access to pre-natal care, trained assistance during delivery and help developing good mothering habits (like breast-feeding) post-birth? Good Lord, they do. Look at some of the statistics about becoming a mother in Ethiopia. Look at the work that the Livesays and their friends are doing in Haiti. Look just about anywhere in the developing world and you'll see that maternal mortality and infant mortality are huge problems we need to face up to and get to work on. This is a need that must be addressed.

But what is not a "need" is for someone like Mr. Kristof to use this day (or any day of the year, really) to spend time expressing that delightful opinion, described by P.J. O'Rourke as, "just enough of me, way too much of you." Guess what? Many people in the developing world want to be parents. They want to have children because they actually feel the same way about their children as we do about ours. I know: it's surprising, but they really do. They choose to have children for many of the same reasons we choose to, and it's not helpful to tell them they should make a different choice, because we think we know better than they do what's best for them.

If we want to truly help others, we need to start by giving them the dignity of assuming that they want what's best for them. We should do whatever we can to ensure that the choices they make are successful ones, but we don't need to make up their minds for them.

Read This

And you won't have to worry about having an appetite for a late-night snack tonight.

"Had I really been yet another one of those women who had given away her identity when she said "I do?" And I don't mean "I do" to marriage -- but rather "I do" to adult responsibility, jobs, children, mortgage, graduate school, paying bills. Where was the me in all of that?"

Because God forbid, you forget to put yourself first in life. Quelle tristesse!

If wife-beating husbands make all men look bad, it's women like this one who are a blot on the entire sex.

HT: Instapundit

Just Don't Wanna Hear It

I've been offline all weekend due to no phone service, but I'm back now, and after a quick perusal of my favorite places on the internets I've already heard waaaay too much about how Texas is poised to make budget cuts to the public schools, cuts that will include layoffs. I've heard so much, I've just got to put this out there, close comments, and tell myself "there, you vented, now get back to work, ya bum."

As committed as Husband and I are to keeping the boys in public school, I am not at all adverse to cutting school budgets. Texas must balance its budget pursuant to its Constitution, and the money has to come from somewhere. We can't all run around crying "the children, the children" and demand that no amount of sacrifice come from the public schools. Let's face it: many, many of them don't work anyway. We in The Grass Widow household live in a protected bubble of good public schools, in a large urban district that has done better than many in delivering a decent education. But we all know that, overall, public schools are crapping out on a whole lot of kids, and that all the money in the world isn't going to change that. I could go into the whys and wherefores of that situation, but I'm not prepared to write a book this morning, thankyouverymuch.

So there has to be budget cuts, and people will get laid off. My ultimate response: meh. Why? Because out in the real world, we've all had to suffer and sacrifice over the years with the ups and downs of the economy - and it's about time that public employees should have to do the same. Some (very) personal statistics to help make my point:

• Husband's company is running on 50% the number of people it had on the books 3 years ago. They're doing well, but they don't have that many open reqs out there, so it's unlikely that things will change soon.
• From 2000 to today my company has gone from 8000 employees to 6000: we perform better financially now than we did back in 2000, and we've acquired approximately 20 companies and their employees and products in that time period. How do you go down in census while up in everything else? You lay people off multiple times, that's how. I can remember at least 7 times myself.
• I was caught in one of those many company-wide layoffs in 2005; I was shown the door along with 900 of my closest friends - approximately 1/6 of the company's payroll went out the window around the world in one day.
• I came back to my company in late 2008; the company that I left laid off 15,000 people just weeks after I switched jobs. One company, 15,000 people. Believe me, they haven't hired that many of them back.
• I make less now in my current job than I did when I started at the same company in 2000. My salary is the same number, but we're talking about 2000 dollars as compared to 2011 dollars, so I'm definitely worse off financially. Additionally, my share of healthcare costs has increased every year I've worked (really, since 1992 - every year it has gone up): I pay somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 the cost of my health insurance currently.

All that said, I like my current job, and I came back to the same company because I like it as well. I'm definitely not in the market for another one (assuming there was a job market for attorneys in Houston right now, which there is not). In my current position I can (much like a teacher) see my children at a decent hour every afternoon, and I can use my vacation days to take off with them on holidays like MLK Day. I even get days off like Memorial Day to spend with them. I do not, of course, get the summer off, nor may I take any days off between Christmas and New Year's or during their Spring Break. Our company closes quarters (and year end) at those times and I am needed at work. But 4 weeks paid vacation a year is a nice benefit; it certainly beats Husband's vacation allotment of 2 weeks. Yes, I said 2 weeks. That's a little less than the average teacher, don't you think?

So you see, life out here in non-public employee-land is at least as tough, if not more so. Right now the economy stinks, it has done so for a while, and we all need a little more sense of shared sacrifice and a little less whining about "I want mine" - especially when my tax dollars pay for the teachers to get what they do.

Soapbox put away. I'm done for now.

Son, There's a Place for Everything, and it's called College

I spent a lot of time emailing last Friday back and forth with an old law school friend, and one of the main topics of conversation was college and what we were planning on doing about it. He has some more time to plan, as his daughter is still in pre-school, so the discussion was more about the boys and what Husband and I had in mind. Not that we, too, don't have a lot of time to think about this stuff, but it does come up not all that infrequently; the boys are interested in what their lives as adults will look like, and I think that's healthy.

Anyway, in the series of emails, my friend questioned our resolve to put pretty strict guidelines on where the boys went to school and (to a lesser extent) what they studied when they got there. So, I'm on my soapbox: are you ready? Here's pretty much what I wrote on Friday:

I am perfectly willing to make distinctions in what we will pay for. Something like MIT + physics or Chicago + economics makes sense to me, but Harvard + English does not. Will I accept an English major out of UT? Maybe, although I'd rather it was a double major with math throw in there as well. Why all of this? Because in the end, an English degree from Harvard isn’t worth ½ of what we’d pay for it. The tuition inflation makes that so more than anything else. I used to think college was all about learning who you were and doing what you love. Now I know it’s about spending someone else’s money.

In a way this decision is the same as the one of public vs. private school right now. The boys have gone to good private schools, and we’ve discovered that they aren’t any better than our public school – so why on earth did we pay for it!? How much your kid learns has much more to do with parenting than it does with the school you choose. Within reason of course – I’m not comparing some inner-city high school to Choate – but really, it’s true. Good parents have kids who are curious about the world and who learn from everything they do; school is just part of that. As for college: a lot of college is what you make of it. I want to raise a child who is prepared to squeeze every last drop out of UT – who is curious and motivated and aware of what’s going on around him. And one who knows the value of a dollar, both his own and his parents’ money. That child is ready for college, and ready to be an adult.

My cousin’s child started college this month; he’s going to the local state university and living at home. It’s not the greatest school on earth, but he chose it over better private schools. He is wise enough to know that he can avoid putting himself and his family in debt, while still getting the best possible education he’s capable of getting. Not because the school is perfect, but because he’s going to look high and low for every bit of knowledge he can find. In other words, they raised their son to be an adult. That’s a he!! of a lot better attitude to have than the one of snobby entitlement with which I went off to college.

I have to tell you: I’m getting more like this as I get older, not less. 18 years in Texas has apparently knocked some sense into the idiot girl from upstate NY.

Make sense to anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Just Be Yourself

"... Blajeny nodded. 'Yes. You have much to learn from each other. Meanwhile, I will give each of you assignments. Charles Wallace, can you guess what yours is?' 'To learn to adapt.' 'I don't want you to change!' Meg cried. 'Neither do I,' Blajeny replied. 'Charles Wallace's problem is to learn to adapt while remaining wholly himself.'"

--- Madeleine L'Engle, A Wind in the Door

I've been thinking about this exchange ever since I re-read this book several months ago. One and I have had several talks about it and how it can apply to him: he needs to get along better with others, and if he can think about doing that in these terms, it helps (and hurts less at the same time). Today I started realizing that the truth in this passage applies to so much more than that.

Here's what I mean:

Everywhere I look, I see advice for Christian women that at heart asks them to be someone other than who they are. Be a Proverbs 31 woman, be Mary, be Martha, be Ruth - the list goes on and on. Many times the advice goes further than that and becomes "you're not a good Christian women unless you [fill in the blank: are a Proverbs 31 gal, stay home full time, have lots of children, etc]." And so the Mommy Wars come to Christian women, and many of us get wrapped up in watching how other people act, looking for the right person to be more like, and struggling to live up to some standard that doesn't fit us any more than that size 6 bikini in the Everything But Water window display.

And it's all wrong. Because just as Charles Wallace was asked to get along with others without being anyone other than himself, we are called to be ourselves as we live our lives as Christians. The one big qualifier in all that is: we are called to do so in chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility, while putting aside wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. In other words, we are here to sin less, while being who we were born to be and living out the life God has given us. We are not meant to be like someone else, to follow their path, to mimic their actions. We are to follow God and God alone, and that means living as ourselves and using all the strength He has given us to run from sin and towards virtue.

So I am called to sin less while working full time, mothering two wild, public schooled boys, ordering too much take-out, relying heavily on my precious, perfect cleaning lady, and leaving the laundry in the living room for days at a time. You may be called to sin less while staying home full-time with six children, or you may be called to sin less while working part time, sending your three children to private school, and cooking everything from Sandra Lee's "semi-homemade" recipes. Ultimately, though, the details are less important to God than the "sin less" part of the equation. He'll help you work out the details of what daily life looks like (and remember, He gave you your own gifts, intelligence and discernment to help do that by yourself, too), but your day-to-day life doesn't have to look like mine, I don't get to judge you if it doesn't, and vice versa.

Like your mom told you when you were a teenager: just be yourself. It's who God made you, and He did that for a reason. Focus on the real reason we're here: to love and worship Him, to work every day to sin less, and to grow in virtue. On you, that will look different than it does on everyone else. Isn't that refreshing!?

Valentine's Day Replay

I wrote this last year but I just can't help repeating myself:

I Hate Valentine's Day

There. I said it. I hate it with absolutely primal passion. The sight of red candy hearts fills me with loathing, heart-shaped Whitman’s samplers make me want to buy an Uzi, and don’t even get me started on pwecious wittle stuffed bears. Red lingerie, I loathe you. “He went to Jared!” commercials: let’s go outside and settle this like grown-ups.

I hate Valentine’s Day more than I hate Rachel Ray.

And after I get done hating it for all these grown up reasons, I get to hate it all over again as a mother. I hate Valentine’s Day parties. I hate cartoon character Valentine’s cards – cards my children aren’t even supposed to write on, since they will be shoved in backpacks willy nilly without a thought as to who they are for. I am hopping up and down right now, hating the whole made-up, Hallmark holiday.

Why so much vitriol? Well, first of all, couples shouldn’t need someone else to tell them when it’s time to declare their undying love for one another. In reality, the best “undying love” declarations come at the end of a hard day, when your loved one holds you as you come in the door beaten down and exhausted. When they wake up with you and your stomach flu at 3am, and bring you a cold glass of water without saying a word. When they tell you the same silly joke they’ve told you 4 million times, and then wait for you to roll your eyes and laugh at them. These things can’t be manufactured, scheduled, coated in red paint and delivered with a bow.

And why am I also so bent out of shape about a harmless children’s party? Well, part of that probably has to do with the fact that I have boys – boys who don’t tell me they are having a party or need Valentine’s cards until they’re on their way out the door for school on party day. But aside from that – what does it tell our kids that we celebrate one day of the year when we tell all our friends that we “like” them? Do they learn from this that they need special occasions and frosted cupcakes before they can tell a friend “you’re better than candy, you’re so sweet”? Shouldn’t we be teaching them to appreciate the simple, sweet things their friends do for them every day? The friend who grabs the book you drop and runs after you to give it back, the one who stands up for you on the playground when you’ve having a bad day, the one who loans you his sweatshirt when you’re cold?

The fabric of our lives is made up of these infinitesimal events; these tiny stitches put an entire quilt of relationships together. We don’t need garish Snoopy cards and cheap roses to show appreciation and love for one another. We have our valentines in our hands and our words every day; we should use them, and teach our children to do the same.

I Hate Valentine's Day

There. I said it. I hate it with absolutely primal passion. The sight of red candy hearts fills me with loathing, heart-shaped Whitman’s samplers make me want to buy an Uzi, and don’t even get me started on pwecious wittle stuffed bears. Red lingerie, I loathe you. “He went to Jared!” commercials: let’s go outside and settle this like grown-ups.

I hate Valentine’s Day more than I hate Rachel Ray.

And after I get done hating it for all these grown up reasons, I get to hate it all over again as a mother. I hate Valentine’s Day parties. I hate cartoon character Valentine’s cards – cards my children aren’t even supposed to write on, since they will be shoved in backpacks willy nilly without a thought as to who they are for. I am hopping up and down right now, hating the whole made-up, Hallmark holiday.

Why so much vitriol? Well, first of all, couples shouldn’t need someone else to tell them when it’s time to declare their undying love for one another. In reality, the best “undying love” declarations come at the end of a hard day, when your loved one holds you as you come in the door beaten down and exhausted. When they wake up with you and your stomach flu at 3am, and bring you a cold glass of water without saying a word. When they tell you the same silly joke they’ve told you 4 million times, and then wait for you to roll your eyes and laugh at them. These things can’t be manufactured, scheduled, coated in red paint and delivered with a bow.

And why am I also so bent out of shape about a harmless children’s party? Well, part of that probably has to do with the fact that I have boys – boys who don’t tell me they are having a party or need Valentine’s cards until they’re on their way out the door for school on party day. But aside from that – what does it tell our kids that we celebrate one day of the year when we tell all our friends that we “like” them? Do they learn from this that they need special occasions and frosted cupcakes before they can tell a friend “you’re better than candy, you’re so sweet”? Shouldn’t we be teaching them to appreciate the simple, sweet things their friends do for them every day? The friend who grabs the book you drop and runs after you to give it back, the one who stands up for you on the playground when you’ve having a bad day, the one who loans you his sweatshirt when you’re cold?

The fabric of our lives is made up of these infinitesimal events; these tiny stitches put an entire quilt of relationships together. We don’t need garish Snoopy cards and cheap roses to show appreciation and love for one another. We have our valentines in our hands and our words every day; we should use them, and teach our children to do the same.