I am having fun with my titles; this one may actually make no sense. Which is fitting because for the first night now I have hit a bit of a wall. I started two other entries centered around possible story ideas and both went nowhere. I am really too tired to write. This is the first night this has been true. I have been tired on the other nights too but propelled by the excitement and momentum of the project and by the writing itself. Tonight, nothing. Or very little.
It will likely be excruciatingly boring to read a recounting of the ways in which my two previous attempts were stymied. I was going to write "stymied themselves," but that places the blame firmly on them, when it is my fault entirely. I am not sure about the use of the passive voice, in general or with "stymied," but you can see now why I am having trouble tonight--this kind of thing keeps happening to me and the idea has no way to make an inroad. (Is the process of writing, and the process of failing to write, or succeeding in writing, of any interest whatsoever to either those of you who are writers or those of you who are not? Discuss amongst yourselves.)
The first piece I tried to write also had a bad if not a nonsensical title: Saving Scout. I have wanted to write about adopting Scout, our big white rescue collie, for a long time now, but I am up against the saccharine nature of the dog genre and the whole Marley and Me phenomenon that makes writing about pets seem like an exercise in selling out. Do I think writing about pets has to be syrupy and full of messages about unconditional love and rascally escapades? You might think I do, based on the Lifetime movie title I keep wanting to give this theoretical piece. But I think what I really want to write about is the way rescuing something is so tied up in ego and that the self-congratulatory nature of rescuing can mask or cloud or at least affect the very real reciprocal benefits, but it keeps coming back to oh, you can see this coming a mile away, how Scout really saved us as much as we saved him and I can't make it go where I want it to. Yuck. Yet.
Wouldn't it be great if I could attach or link to a picture of Scout here? I will ask Nicole tomorrow to tell me how to do it, but it will involve taking one, and downloading it, and then doing whatever is required to post it, so it may take me a while. But I like my ambition; I like that it still exists.
The other piece has more depth, and may be more saleable (although as someone who worked in editorial at Little, Brown when Warhol's Cats was published, I certainly know about the salability of animal crap) , but it is even harder, in a way, because the subject is too big, unless I make it personal, which I have to do anyway to make it any good. In thinking about gender roles, which I do too much these days (I know; makes me seem like the life of the party, right?) I realize how much mine changed not in the context of marriage but in becoming a mother. It seems to me that having children throws many couple's notions of their gender roles into a tailspin, and I am very, very interested in why even the gay fathers I know, and I know more than a handful, don't do certain things regarding their children; their sisters do. And oh, the lesbians--forget homophobic arguments about unfit parents: from where I'm standing their children must be twice as well outfitted in underpants and playdates and healthy snackfood--the province of womenhood based on some unwritten universal law.
I find it strange that before we had children, I would have fallen on the floor laughing if someone had suggested that I was going to be the only person in my household who cared if my daughter ate cupcakes for breakfast. Some men do care, or claim to, or act as though they do, but most of these whom I know well are pretending to care much, much more than they do for reasons relating to their wives.
That sounds way too glib, and as I live in New York City, where half the kids in my daughter's nursery school class are ridden on bikes or walked over by their dads, not their moms, and dads do shop and cook dinner and maybe even legitimately care about healthy snacks and make dentist appointments--no. I want to be fair, but I challenge you. Find me a dad who makes the dentist appointments, a straight one, and I will, well, think of something to do to reward you for shattering my preconceived ideas about gender roles.
This idea, too. Not happening. Not now, not yet, maybe not at all. But I am interested in gender roles. And I am especially interested in the ways they affect parents, so maybe I will write something about it sometime. But now it is 12:26, and I need to pack a lunchbox. Ha. See? I just did.
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7 comments:
I, too, am too tired to write much. But on your last point, I just had to defend my man (do you hear Tammy in the back ground -- Stand by Your...). Anyway, just yesterday, he set up Eva's first dental appointment. OK, I asked him to, but I think he may be more conscientious than I am about what she eats. After he attended a babysitting coop meeting the other night, a friend commented how "good" he is. We later talked about how lame it is (although I am very appreciative) that it is so great that he would go to a meeting that has a direct baring (bearing?) on our getting babysitters to get out of the house.
OK, babbling now, but I think it is an interesting topic.
I also think the question of gender roles and the division of labor within a family once kids arrive is fascinating. Believe it or not, I know a few dads who do make the dentist appointments, but they are clearly the exception, not the rule. Like so many other things in relationships, the person who cares the most ends up doing whatever it is. One other blog I read often addresses these issues - check it out...
http://blogs.wsj.com/juggle/2007/10/29/whos-in-charge-of-brownies-not-necessarily-mom/
There is absolutely some kind of biological, control type of nurture thing that kicks in when you become a mother. Life, as my husband and I shared it, i.e. grocery shopping together, dump runs together, cooking dinner, changed radically once our daughter arrived. Now our “chores” are strictly assigned. I cook, he does the dishes, I grocery shop, he goes to the dump…and I do most everything related to our daughter. Part of the reason for this is that my husband works late hours a long way from home, and can’t participate as much in the structure of our daughter’s life. But that said, even if he worked at home, I’d probably still be the one to schedule the appointments, attend the Parent Teacher meetings, drop off at dance, pick up from Girl Scouts. But guess what? I want it that way! When she was younger, and he was closer to home, he did take her to appointments, reliably. But then I wasn’t there to hear what the Doctor said. Even when my husband repeated the doctor’s instructions verbatim, I missed out on the nuance, his tone or the ability to ask the follow up question that popped into my head as soon as my husband relayed the information. The way I look at it, every drive to every appointment is valuable talking time in the car with my daughter. And since I’m happy to be the one driving, it makes sense that I am the one making the appointments so that they fit my schedule. Call me a control freak, call me uptight, or call me a loving Mom. I guess I won’t win any award for shattering your ideas of gender based roles, but I won’t apologize for it either!
All that aside, several years ago, I did try to give up on the dentist. Our daughter had an unreasonable fear of the dentist for about three years, protesting at the top of her wailing lungs every time I brought her. Finally, tension, exasperation, frustration took over and I told my husband that he had to take her the next time. So he did. And she calmly got into the chair and had her teeth cleaned, as she has ever since. Go figure.
Liza - You have a great husband! He does the dishes and the dump runs but doesn't interfere with the fun kid stuff? All this while working long hours away from home! I'm lucky if my husband remembers to return dishes to the kitchen. You should tell him tonight that he is a prince and that other wives envy you.
Your story does remind me of a friend who felt completely inept around his baby after he returned to work. He never had a chance to spend time with the little fellow because his wife took over all the childcare. We all have chores we like to do and we naturally gravitate to them. A lot of mothers like feeling "on top" of their kids lives (knowing what they eat, when they sleep, what the dentist thinks about their teeth). But it's not fair to the fathers when mothers take over all aspects of childcare -- they miss enough of those moments that Amy mentioned in yesterday's post when you fall in love with your kids all over again. The only way they can have those moments, and feel confident in their ability to child-rear, is if you let them take over every now and then.
Well, you may want to consider your preconceived ideas shattered. My husband actually reminded me today that he was the one to both take the kids to their last dentist's appointment and to make their follow up appointment.
And, as far as I know, the man is definitely straight.
Amy, yours is the first blog I've ever read. I can't wait to read it every day, or should I say night? Your writing draws me in, nothing at all boring so far. I'll say something more intelligent in the future, but I'm mostly trying to redeem my techno-peasant status as your aunt by successfully posting a comment.
Anonymous, you are right. I do have a great husband. I know this and I do tell him regularly! Nothing I said was written to be critical of him, only to explain that I have such a love for our daughter that it's hard for me not to be involved in every way. FYI, my husband and daughter have a terrific relationship and there is a lot of laughter that echoes around our house between the two of them! I never expected that they would connect over things like Monty Pyton, but they do! Thank you though, for reminding me how blessed I am!
Note on blogs. Who knew a week ago that I would be conversing about my husband and daughter over the Internet with an absolute stranger...all because I have so much respect and admiration for Amy?
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