I seem to break stuff more than most people do. I don't remember my parents, for example, ever breaking any kitchenware in the 31 years I've known them. But I seem to break things on a fairly regular basis. Just a few weeks ago I fumbled a glass vase and it shattered all over the counter; and the other day I made a majestic sweeping motion with my arm as I went into the kitchen, and there went the coffee carafe all over the floor.
Once you've broken a glass item in your apartment, you might as well declare it a superfund site and just move. Glass is so difficult to clean up. You can't just vacuum it, you have to vacuum and then go over the floor with a damp paper towl or something, and still there will be glass. After I'd gotten the carafe all taken care of, I looked on the internet for tips on cleaning up glass, and learned that I should never, ever pick up broken glass with my bare hands or tiny microscopic pieces would adhere to me. So I've probably been endangering other humans and domestic animals with my glassy hands ever since.
Also, it's ridiculously difficult to find replacement carafes for coffee makers. Andy tried it and brought home one that looked right but wasn't. I looked it up on the good ol internet (I could easily be replaced by the internet and I think you'd all see a vast improvement), and wrote down a bunch of meaningless numbers that might help me identify the right one.
With the result that this is the second day in a row in which I have had no coffee. Such a thing has never happened before, or at least not for a long time.
Lileks discussed this article yesterday (you have to skip past all that stuff about his daughter). I feel that I am equally qualified to comment on the article as him--although I am not a parent, and he is; I am female, and even have been known to lie awake replaying the odd conversation in my head, though I'm trying to cut back on that sort of thing.
In any case, I feel there is a fundamental problem with the author's argument. This is that the problem which is described is a different one from the problem for which a solution is offered. Both of these are real problems, but because of this disjunction, one of them goes undescribed and the other goes unsolved.
p.s. You will find a more well-thought-out commentary by a better-qualified author here. If you've grown accustomed to the sort of uninformed rambling that goes on around my blog, though, read on.
Before I talk about this more, I would like to say that the thing that ticks me off most about this article and every other article about mothers, is that the father is apparently not considered or expected to have any role in any of this. This annoys me in discussions of single mothers, in which the financial and parenting role of the father is often completely ignored. Now it is quite true that the father (or mother, when the dad has custody) more often than not uses every possible subterfuge to avoid paying his fair share. But being a jerk doesn't earn him a free pass, in my opinion. We need to talk about how to get him to do his part before we start discussing how people who are not related to the family, and who certainly would have advised the mother against getting together with this jerk to begin with, had they been consulted, are expected to help out.
In this article, however, the dad who actually lives in the same house as his kids is apparently not expected to take any part in raising them, or helping with the housework, or doing anything at all, as far as I can tell. The only reference to a father in the article seems to be a fleeting mention of some mom being disappointed that her husband didn’t help more. Look, if both parents are working, and either of them won’t do his or her fair share of the house or kid work, that’s a problem. Like a go-find-a-marriage-counselor problem. Even if the mother is staying home full time, the father still needs to take part in the housework, because it’s their house, and she isn’t a servant and he isn’t a guest. And the child needs both parents, not mom and that guy who’s around here when he has nothing better to do. No government program or tax cut can take the place of a parent.
To return from my digression. The problem which is described in this article is that faced by the mothers interviewed in the article: the problem of trying to pursue a demanding career, maintain an upper-class lifestyle, and adequately care for their kids. They all seem to be surprised that taking on what used to be considered at least two more than full-time jobs is, in fact, extremely difficult and exhausting. The things that these women are getting frantic over--matching felt, toting kids to every activity under the sun--are all choices, not necessities. They have to do with a lifestyle in which everything around them is perfect, and their kids are extensions of themselves in some highly competitive world which they've created.
The solutions proposed are, however, aimed at a different problem: that faced by single mothers, or families who struggle to get by on two incomes, for whom cutting down to one is out of the question. It is reasonable to suggest that tax dollars go toward tax cuts or other programs to help with the second problem; it is not reasonable to ask taxpayers, many of whose incomes are a third of one of these upper-class families’ incomes to subsidize daycare so that these moms can get a few hours off. Why can't upper class moms do what the rest of us do in this case: leave the kids with Dad (remember him?), the grandparents, the cousins, the neighbors, or a babysitter?
The solution to the first problem is simply to give up this lifestyle that is so exhausting and unhealthy. It might not be easy to give up this self-image--who doesn't want to see themselves as cultured and successful, and I suspect they imagine that all this frenetic activity is necessary to being so. Furthermore this lifestyle goes along with the kinds of professions they have. I imagine that they would be looked at askance by their colleagues if they walked around in the wardrobe I can afford, or lived in a place that looks like, well, mine. But I must say I have little sympathy with this; living your life to keep up with the Joneses or with some imaginary ideal you've created for yourself is not, and has never been, a fulfilling or worthwhile way to live. If they want to keep running this race with no finish line, this is the price they will have to pay; it is their choice, and it is not reasonable to expect the government to subsidize or facilitate such a choice.
Government intervention may be needed to help struggling parents find the time (through subsidized daycare) or freedom from immediate needs (through tax cuts, welfare programs, or free health care) to take care of their families or to get the education they need to make a better life. Therefore, the article's suggestion that the government has a role in alleviating financial pressures on families makes sense, but not in the context of the problems it has outlined. The moms interviewed in this article are not in need of government intervention. On the contrary, they have all the power to make a difference in their own lives, and to help other struggling families. Whereas the article’s author apparently thinks that the there is little hope of finding part-time work or other flexibility to better combine work and parenting, I think this is the wave of the future. We’ve already seen the concept of work become much more flexible over the last decade or so, what with flex hours, telecommuting, and so forth (at least for professionals, which is what these moms are); and I think this is only going to increase.
These women don’t need the government to do this for them, any more than they needed the government to build successful careers for them. They are, as briefly noted but quickly passed over in the article, the most privileged group in the history of the world. They are intelligent, highly educated, healthy, and for the most part seem to have the financial freedom to work part-time or not work at all, for that matter. They have everything they need to negotiate the work hours and environment that they want. And by doing this, they can lead the way for less privileged mothers—and fathers—who want more time to spend with their kids. So instead of complaining that the government isn’t doing this for you, do what everyone in this country has always done when change is needed—something.
Cold Mountain is not, in my opinion, a particularly good choice for Valentine's Day viewing with your spouse or significant other. Never mind why, just trust me. As to whether i'd recommend watching it at another time or in other company, it depends on whether or not you have 2.5 hours to kill, and aren't interested in feeling too happy.
We got a flyer advertising a new "health club" in the mail today. I hate gym, and I always have, from the time I was the slowest kid in class, the last to be chosen for any kind of team. In grade school, gym was the only class in which I ever received an "unsatisfactory" grade. I couldn't climb a rope, couldn't do a chin-up, couldn't run around the playground three times without stopping (as I was annually requested to do for the Presidential Fitness test (I don't know what I ever did to the President that led him to torment me so).
In Junior High, the torment was increased to a new level with our introduction to the institution of the Weight Room. The Weight Room was a sort of airless, windowless closet in which a lot of crummy weight equipment, encrusted with decades of teenage sweat and dirt, was stashed. Weight Room, like all the gym classes, was co-ed. I still cannot fathom what advantage a thirteen-year-old tubby, geeky girl with glasses and a boy haircut was supposed to have derived from being made to assume a variety of embarassing positions on weight equipment, to the accompaniment of crappy 80s pop music and a thorough critique of her physique and personal worth, the latter provided by the 13-year-old boys. LPS has a lot to answer for.
All the gyms I have encountered since then--and believe me, these have been as few as possible--have been characterized by these same basic elements: a disgusting smell, a disgusting film over all the equipment, disgusting loud music, and having to arrange myself in disgusting positions while disgusting males look on.
The state no longer has the power to make me go to the gym. Why on earth would I pay $1225 to voluntarily go to one?
So, I haven't had much to say here lately. There isn't much to say, really. Just been working at the job and dissertation. I haven't had any Brilliant Thoughts to share with you lately, but don't worry, I'll rush right to my keyboard just as soon as one comes along.
I've been reading Seinfeld and Philosophy. It is pretty amusing, and makes me feel happy because I am familiar with the pop culture in question. Since about the turn of the millennium, I've become old, and no longer have any idea what's going on. American Idol? I have no clue, other than vague memories of who Paula Abdul is.
I've started a new job this week and am scrambling to finish a dissertation proposal draft. Also have a few annoying bureaucratic paperwork things to take care of. Busy, busy.
Here's a somewhat funny article which mentions the U of C. I think she's overstating the rudeness of Hyde Park, but on the other hand I have no idea why I'm defending Hyde Park. Most academic types (judging by myself), at least, aren't ignoring you; they simply have no idea where they are or what's going on around them. Occupational hazard.