Monday, January 27, 2014

I think I just got put in my place

I just read a fascinating article by a woman about how she feels sorry for young women with husbands and children.
And as I studied my life (a wife at age twenty and a mother at age 23) I realized that I just can't argue with her. I think she has me pegged.
She points out that getting "knocked up" or "hitched" to a man are no reasons to celebrate. After all, those things can be done by anyone, and have been for time immemorial. They are average.
We should have showers for women accomplishing real goals like job promotions and backpacking across Asia.
I think she has me there. I've never backpacked across Asia. I haven't backpacked much of anywhere, really. Probably because I got hitched to a man and knocked up. I've taken some really great hikes through the ozark mountains and Florida everglades, but I don't think those count because the entire time I had little girls following me and picking up feathers and pinecones and distracting me by pointing out the miracles of nature and the wonders of the world.
And I couldn't fully enjoy the sunsets over the gulf of Mexico because there was a man sitting in the sand next to me telling me how much he loves me. So that was pretty much a wash.
Who wants to spend their life with a person who lives and dies for them, loves and adores them? I think that might be co-dependence or something. Maybe there's a medication for that.
But if I had put on a backpack and walked across Asia that would have been spectacular. My friends could have thrown me a shower. I think I might leave my average life and try that.
Except...
Except...
If I am going to be really honest Asian people have been carrying stuff and walking around Asia for a long time. There might be some people who mistake my incredible journey for something average. So maybe backpacking across Asia isn't actually an amazing feat, after all.

But if I went to another country and fed hungry children and gave naked children clothing and nursed the sick then I would definitely be contributing and accomplishing.
Except...
Except...

Now that I think about it, I do that every day. I feed hungry children and clothe naked ones and nurse them and teach them, so maybe I can check that off my list. Unless it only counts if you go around the world and do it to another mother's children. I'll have to look that up. I'm not sure my human beings count.

But job promotions... that's something I've been missing out on. I scrub toilets and make beds and catch vomit in bowls but I've never been promoted. No one gives me a raise or recognition. And the last time my daughter laid her freakishly soft cheek against mine and kissed me and told me that she loved me more than pink markers I think I was subconsciously wishing that I was sitting in a cubicle doing data entry really well so someone could come and move me to a bigger cubicle with a longer spreadsheet.
Or the time my husband told me that our daughter had my eyes and sounded like he thought that was the best thing that could ever happen to a person.

I think I rolled those eyes because I was wishing that I was midlevel manager working my way up the ladder and deciding who to fire during cutbacks. Because we all know that the hand that completes the spreadsheet is the hand that rules the world. I think I heard that once.
She also says that being a mother and homemaker will never be equal to being . . . say, an engineer. 
photo available through Seattle Municipal archives

I usually get embarrassed being around engineers, which is a problem because there are so many of them! I mean they're almost average nowadays. I listen to their stories about ductwork and humidity levels and how to lay out a parking lot just so and I feel foolish having nothing to show for my days' work other than my children. I mean they are only the most complex organisms known to man. They have beating hearts and lightning fast neural systems and self-healing outer layers, along with cognitive and emotional abilities. They will grow up to continue life on the planet, heal broken hearts, mend bloody knees, appreciate art and nature and change the world, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't know the thermal properties of cement versus concrete.
To be totally honest, I'm not even sure if cement and concrete are different things.
It's really embarrassing.
Which is probably why I hide away in my home and paint and scour and decorate and make it look beautiful and smell beautiful and feel beautiful so people can feel loved the second they step inside. Because I'm not traveling the world or putting in overtime at work I have to fill up my day with meeting emotional and intellectual needs of those around me.

Sorry, but there's really nothing better to do.
And backpacking would require that I go buy a backpack and you know... I'm just a lazy housewife.