The book is called NO KIDS: 40 Reasons Not to Have Children and was written by a French author named Corrine Maier. In it this psychiatrist, and mother of two, attempts to dissuade young childless French women from succumbing to the baby fever which is currently sweeping their country. Unlike most other countries in the EU where birthrates have fallen well below population replacement levels and young children are swiftly becoming an anomaly, the French are experiencing a renaissance of motherhood thanks in no small part to government sponsored maternity leaves where mothers are paid full wages for up to sixteen weeks, receive "bonus checks" for having more than one child and enjoy a creche, or childcare, system that is unequaled anywhere. Ms. Maier feels that these programs are part of a larger plan to imprison women in the traditional, and largely unfulfilling, role of "mom". The phrase she coined for women who buy into the myth that motherhood is the ultimate goal for a women is merdeuf which a French speaker would recognize as the contraction of mère de famille, which is the traditional phrase for a full-time mother or a housewife and someone who makes the act of mothering her career. The contraction of this term, however, sounds like a combination of merde, which any first year French student can tell you means "shit" and oeuf, which means "egg". Combined these two sounds seem to imply that these xeno-phobes disguised as patriots and uber-mommies are in fact little more than "egg-shitters."
Now, it may seem ironic that someone who has given birth to and is raising children of her own would counsel women who have not yet had children to steer clear of the "profession" of motherhood, but only if you weren't a mother yourself. Even the most rabidly devoted mother has moments when she wishes she had opted for the power career or the guy with no real potential other than showing her a really great time. Why? Because it would have been easier and finite. There is no end to motherhood. No way to quit or backtrack. Just 15 or 20 years of intensive, sometimes mind-numbing, and certainly unappreciated but for hindsight freakin' hard work. For nothing. There are no monetary rewards. No company perks. No advancements. If men had been handed this role at the dawn of creation the human race would have began and ended with Adam and Eve. And yes, I know as a mother myself that there are intangible rewards to having and raising children that shouldn't be compared with the consumer-driven objectified greediness of the material minded, but when you stop to consider that in the vast majority of the world women are little more than breeding cows with nearly identical rights it is hard to argue against Ms. Maier's attempt to warn off future generations of brood mares.
It could be the poor translation but I think some of Ms. Maier's reasons are stupid, but a few drive home the point that women are still being forced to choose between having children and having a life, eg. career. Children are limiting for women in a way that they are not for men. You can argue the point as much as you like but the facts are the facts. Mothers, even really crappy ones, are tied to the early development of their off-spring in a much more physical way than fathers are and because of this, they will inevitably lose time. Time for education or building careers or simply to pursue some personally fulfilling dream. We can't have it all in the same way men can and it's time this was acknowledged and made generally known to women before they have babies. An uninformed choice is hardly a choice at all.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Internet Sites and the Small World
Katie Coles is an old college roomie of my cousin, Anne. I vaguely recall meeting her when I first went away to college myself. Both Katie and my cousin are just enough older than I am that at the time we weren’t quite peers. She and Anne have kept up over the years and distance. My cousin was always better than I have ever been about staying connected with friends and family, but it speaks to the kind of person she is. She is glue. One of those who holds people close and keeps them near and connected not only to herself but to others.
It’s interesting who you find on the Internet. Since becoming a Facebook addict my husband, Rob, has discovered all sorts of old friends and acquaintances from high school and university. I haven’t found many people I know on Facebook but on the Classmates site, I saw a few people I know. I signed up there because my 25 year high school reunion is coming up and I wanted to track down contact information for some of my friends. As it turns out the best source of information was simply calling my friend Julie who, incidentally, is also a distant cousin of mine. I lost track of so many people when Will was sick and until now hadn’t made moves to reconnect though I had thought about them and doing that often. Having found them, I don’t do much with the Classmates site anymore, so I was a bit surprised to get an email telling me that someone had left a message for me there. It turned out to be Katie Coles.
From:
Katie
To:
Annie
Sent:
September 27, 2007 01:27:53 AM
Subject:
Hi, this is Katie, Anne Kenney's college roomie
Hello. I was poking around seeing who's new on the U of I listing and your name was familiar. I visited Anne in CR for a couple of weeks this summer. In fact, I went with her and Betty to pick up your mom at the airport from your wedding. I saw the pics you sent by e-mail and Anne and I "oooed" and "aaaahhhed" over them quite a bit. You are so lovely!
Anyway, although I only know you vicariously through Anne, I am compelled to say that I think you are wonderfully brave to follow your heart with a good man and I wish all the best for you, your daughter and your husband.
Katie
I am continually amazed by the effect that Rob and I seem to have on people that we don’t really know or who don’t know us except through family or friends or just from randomly hearing about our story. My dear friend Meg’s 89 year old mother is an avid follower of ours and through her a whole host of elderly friends in one of Des Moines’s senior homes is keep abreast of us as though we were an afternoon soap opera. I am also quite amazed by the way people seem to pick up on our love for each other merely through the pictures I have posted or sent to those I know. It’s not validation really and I personally don’t need that anyway. I don’t live my life by committee anymore. What other people think, as my mother always told me, is none of my business, but it is a nice feeling knowing that by just being “us”, following our hearts and living our lives, that we have touched people in a positive way. I am not sure I could have said that about my life ten or fifteen years ago. A late bloomer, I guess.
I was telling my mother about Katie’s message today, and she told me that Katie hasn’t been well. She has a very hard time getting around. Arthritis or something similar is robbing her of her mobility, but still she made the drive from Arizona to Iowa with her kids in tow to spend a few weeks with an old friend. There are so many things in life that we think of as being very important when the truth is that there are only a few things in life that merit such status. Friends are one of them.
It’s interesting who you find on the Internet. Since becoming a Facebook addict my husband, Rob, has discovered all sorts of old friends and acquaintances from high school and university. I haven’t found many people I know on Facebook but on the Classmates site, I saw a few people I know. I signed up there because my 25 year high school reunion is coming up and I wanted to track down contact information for some of my friends. As it turns out the best source of information was simply calling my friend Julie who, incidentally, is also a distant cousin of mine. I lost track of so many people when Will was sick and until now hadn’t made moves to reconnect though I had thought about them and doing that often. Having found them, I don’t do much with the Classmates site anymore, so I was a bit surprised to get an email telling me that someone had left a message for me there. It turned out to be Katie Coles.
From:
Katie
To:
Annie
Sent:
September 27, 2007 01:27:53 AM
Subject:
Hi, this is Katie, Anne Kenney's college roomie
Hello. I was poking around seeing who's new on the U of I listing and your name was familiar. I visited Anne in CR for a couple of weeks this summer. In fact, I went with her and Betty to pick up your mom at the airport from your wedding. I saw the pics you sent by e-mail and Anne and I "oooed" and "aaaahhhed" over them quite a bit. You are so lovely!
Anyway, although I only know you vicariously through Anne, I am compelled to say that I think you are wonderfully brave to follow your heart with a good man and I wish all the best for you, your daughter and your husband.
Katie
I am continually amazed by the effect that Rob and I seem to have on people that we don’t really know or who don’t know us except through family or friends or just from randomly hearing about our story. My dear friend Meg’s 89 year old mother is an avid follower of ours and through her a whole host of elderly friends in one of Des Moines’s senior homes is keep abreast of us as though we were an afternoon soap opera. I am also quite amazed by the way people seem to pick up on our love for each other merely through the pictures I have posted or sent to those I know. It’s not validation really and I personally don’t need that anyway. I don’t live my life by committee anymore. What other people think, as my mother always told me, is none of my business, but it is a nice feeling knowing that by just being “us”, following our hearts and living our lives, that we have touched people in a positive way. I am not sure I could have said that about my life ten or fifteen years ago. A late bloomer, I guess.
I was telling my mother about Katie’s message today, and she told me that Katie hasn’t been well. She has a very hard time getting around. Arthritis or something similar is robbing her of her mobility, but still she made the drive from Arizona to Iowa with her kids in tow to spend a few weeks with an old friend. There are so many things in life that we think of as being very important when the truth is that there are only a few things in life that merit such status. Friends are one of them.
Friday, September 28, 2007
The Terry Fox Run
Thursday was the Terry Fox Run in schools all across Canada. The day is part of an extensive effort by the Fox family to honor Terry and his wish to raise money and awareness for cancer research. Terry began the original run called The Marathon for Hope in 1980, three years after losing his leg to bone cancer. He captured the hearts of Canadians by pledging to run across the country, taking pledges and donations for cancer research as he went. The marathon began with just Terry and a friend who would follow him in a van as he ran 26 miles every day. He started in Newfoundland and as the miles piled up he attracted followers and donations. Terry made it as far as Ontario before he was stopped by a recurrence of cancer. It was in his lungs. Terry reluctantly stopped running, but the next year Canadians picked up where Terry had left off and to date the Terry Fox Foundation has raised $400 million dollars world-wide for cancer research.
I knew Terry’s story before moving here. I was in grade 10 at high school the year Terry attempted to run across Canada. I can’t recall the context in which I learned about him. Maybe it was in school or perhaps I read about him in the newspaper. School children in Canada remember Terry by bringing “toonies” - two dollar coins - to school and by participating in running and walking events. Katy hadn’t heard about Terry Fox Run Day. It’s not something they do in schools in Iowa though Terry’s run is a world wide phenomena now. She was quite caught up. We had to make sure she had a “toonie” to donate. She had no idea what the day meant or who Terry Fox was though. I didn’t stop to consider that the children her age might be given too much information concerning Terry’s illness or death, but apparently they were. Since last evening Katy has quizzed both Rob and I about Terry, cancer, and why people don’t get better even with medicine. Since her father’s illness, and more-so since his death, Katy can fixate a bit when somehow she knows is ill or she hears about someone dying. Especially if that someone is young.
Rob was very matter of fact with Katy at supper yesterday when the cancer questions came up. Like me, he goes clinical and deadpan when discussing disease and death. Unlike me, well me most of the time anyway, he tends to give out more information than is technically necessary. “You need to give me a sign or something,” he says but it’s hard to put Katy off. She is a smart little girl and a persistent one.
The whole incident made me think about a recently published article about PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and children of cancer patients. The study found that having a parent with a life-threatening illness can cause PTSD in children and the effects can linger for years. Many of the symptoms are things I have observed in Katy though to a lesser extent as time passes. Some of the symptoms were things I had suffered myself in the aftermath of sitting alone with my late husband the night he died. Like my daughter, I have a hard time with the knowledge of anyone’s illness or even suspected illnesses, but I am torn about shielding her too much. How much is too much? My father is dying. He has a progressive lung disease. I am told he is spending the majority of his time these days in bed and that he isn’t eating or drinking much. I spent enough time in hospice to know what that means. We are heading to the States for a visit in a few weeks and I don’t know really know what to expect for me or for Katy. It may well be the last time we see him alive.
Back in the day, people cared for their aged and sick in their homes. Both my parents can recall the deaths of their grandparents. My mother’s older sister will tell you that both of their mother’s parents were bedridden. Grandma was their only child and caretaker for not just her elderly parents but five children and a husband, who as an aside was having an affair with the girl she hired to help her out with the care-taking of everyone but herself. My dad was just three and sitting in the summer kitchen with his grandmother when she keeled over in front of him. The wakes were at home after family prepared the bodies. Wakes could last a few days, I am told, in order to accommodate family that needed to travel from a distance. Were my parents, aunts or uncles traumatized by the close proximity to death? My great-aunt was just a little girl when her three younger sisters died in rapid succession during the Spanish flu epidemic. She still cries when she talks about her sister, Emily, and what a beautiful little baby she was. No one was shielded. When my dad’s aunt died of cancer it was at home with her husband, two very young sons in attendance. Maybe we are too far removed from death anymore. We have been led to believe that death is an anomaly. Something that happens mainly at the very end of a long life. We certainly scrap against it and deny its possibility. Hide its raw reality from ourselves in any way that we can. When we do let it out in the open it is through stories like Terry’s because we want death to be meaningful and uplifting in a movie of the week sort of way even if it’s a lie that we tell ourselves.
I think death is traumatizing and it has always been that way. The difference between now and then is the level of involvement we allow ourselves.
I knew Terry’s story before moving here. I was in grade 10 at high school the year Terry attempted to run across Canada. I can’t recall the context in which I learned about him. Maybe it was in school or perhaps I read about him in the newspaper. School children in Canada remember Terry by bringing “toonies” - two dollar coins - to school and by participating in running and walking events. Katy hadn’t heard about Terry Fox Run Day. It’s not something they do in schools in Iowa though Terry’s run is a world wide phenomena now. She was quite caught up. We had to make sure she had a “toonie” to donate. She had no idea what the day meant or who Terry Fox was though. I didn’t stop to consider that the children her age might be given too much information concerning Terry’s illness or death, but apparently they were. Since last evening Katy has quizzed both Rob and I about Terry, cancer, and why people don’t get better even with medicine. Since her father’s illness, and more-so since his death, Katy can fixate a bit when somehow she knows is ill or she hears about someone dying. Especially if that someone is young.
Rob was very matter of fact with Katy at supper yesterday when the cancer questions came up. Like me, he goes clinical and deadpan when discussing disease and death. Unlike me, well me most of the time anyway, he tends to give out more information than is technically necessary. “You need to give me a sign or something,” he says but it’s hard to put Katy off. She is a smart little girl and a persistent one.
The whole incident made me think about a recently published article about PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and children of cancer patients. The study found that having a parent with a life-threatening illness can cause PTSD in children and the effects can linger for years. Many of the symptoms are things I have observed in Katy though to a lesser extent as time passes. Some of the symptoms were things I had suffered myself in the aftermath of sitting alone with my late husband the night he died. Like my daughter, I have a hard time with the knowledge of anyone’s illness or even suspected illnesses, but I am torn about shielding her too much. How much is too much? My father is dying. He has a progressive lung disease. I am told he is spending the majority of his time these days in bed and that he isn’t eating or drinking much. I spent enough time in hospice to know what that means. We are heading to the States for a visit in a few weeks and I don’t know really know what to expect for me or for Katy. It may well be the last time we see him alive.
Back in the day, people cared for their aged and sick in their homes. Both my parents can recall the deaths of their grandparents. My mother’s older sister will tell you that both of their mother’s parents were bedridden. Grandma was their only child and caretaker for not just her elderly parents but five children and a husband, who as an aside was having an affair with the girl she hired to help her out with the care-taking of everyone but herself. My dad was just three and sitting in the summer kitchen with his grandmother when she keeled over in front of him. The wakes were at home after family prepared the bodies. Wakes could last a few days, I am told, in order to accommodate family that needed to travel from a distance. Were my parents, aunts or uncles traumatized by the close proximity to death? My great-aunt was just a little girl when her three younger sisters died in rapid succession during the Spanish flu epidemic. She still cries when she talks about her sister, Emily, and what a beautiful little baby she was. No one was shielded. When my dad’s aunt died of cancer it was at home with her husband, two very young sons in attendance. Maybe we are too far removed from death anymore. We have been led to believe that death is an anomaly. Something that happens mainly at the very end of a long life. We certainly scrap against it and deny its possibility. Hide its raw reality from ourselves in any way that we can. When we do let it out in the open it is through stories like Terry’s because we want death to be meaningful and uplifting in a movie of the week sort of way even if it’s a lie that we tell ourselves.
I think death is traumatizing and it has always been that way. The difference between now and then is the level of involvement we allow ourselves.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Adopting the Cat
So, we have pretty much decided to adopt the mama cat whom Katy has already named Bouncy. The kittens will need to be placed. Where? I have no idea. I do know that Rob is not fond of the idea of raising one kitten, forget about three and truthfully, starting from ground zero with any type of pet is just a lot of work. Our neighbor has friends who live on a farm, and she is checking to see if perhaps they would like a few kittens, once they are weaned. Feral cats, which they would likely end up, are somewhat of a farm staple. They help keep the rodent population in check. Friends of mine back in Iowa always have kittens at one stage or another it seems on their farm. They are not pets in any sense of the word. They eat from the scrap bucket that is also given to the pigs, and there is an old dog dish with food in it as well. Otherwise they fend for themselves. I feel a little bad that we are condemning the kittens to such an existence, but unless someone steps forward wanting a house cat, that is the only option for them.
Having come to this decision just yesterday, I haven’t had much time to research about cats, or kittens, and what steps need to be taken now. They need to visit the vet. Bouncy needs a clean bill of health, shots and to be spayed lest we have another batch of kittens to deal with soon. I think the kittens are about 3 to 4 weeks old. According to the little bit I have read, they wean around 5 to 8 weeks. They will be moving about, and quickly, within the next week or two, so new shelter provisions will need to be taken, or they will be road kill, food for the coyotes and foxes or even the neighborhood dogs. Right now they are still in the cardboard box sheltered by a few boards nest to the garage. Nothing really keeping them in but their own inability to walk well enough to escape.
Bouncy is to the point where she will come when called, or when she hears Katy’s voice. I am sure that she was someone’s pet not long ago and was dumped once they discovered she was pregnant. I am hoping she hasn’t been in the “wild” long enough to not recognize a litter box, which is my only real reservation about her. I haven’t ever litter trained animal, but I have vivid and distasteful memories of potty training the dog I foisted upon my unsuspecting folks when I was in high school. Come to think of it. I probably did something similar to that with Bouncy and Rob. He even asked me when I was planning to tell him I had decided to keep the cat when we discussed the cat’s future yesterday over the phone.
So, we are for sure a cat family now. Hopefully not a multiple cat family. Anyone need a kitten?
Having come to this decision just yesterday, I haven’t had much time to research about cats, or kittens, and what steps need to be taken now. They need to visit the vet. Bouncy needs a clean bill of health, shots and to be spayed lest we have another batch of kittens to deal with soon. I think the kittens are about 3 to 4 weeks old. According to the little bit I have read, they wean around 5 to 8 weeks. They will be moving about, and quickly, within the next week or two, so new shelter provisions will need to be taken, or they will be road kill, food for the coyotes and foxes or even the neighborhood dogs. Right now they are still in the cardboard box sheltered by a few boards nest to the garage. Nothing really keeping them in but their own inability to walk well enough to escape.
Bouncy is to the point where she will come when called, or when she hears Katy’s voice. I am sure that she was someone’s pet not long ago and was dumped once they discovered she was pregnant. I am hoping she hasn’t been in the “wild” long enough to not recognize a litter box, which is my only real reservation about her. I haven’t ever litter trained animal, but I have vivid and distasteful memories of potty training the dog I foisted upon my unsuspecting folks when I was in high school. Come to think of it. I probably did something similar to that with Bouncy and Rob. He even asked me when I was planning to tell him I had decided to keep the cat when we discussed the cat’s future yesterday over the phone.
So, we are for sure a cat family now. Hopefully not a multiple cat family. Anyone need a kitten?
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