Raising A Gentleman (Part 2): Dangerous Boys

WARNING: This post contains content regarding rape and violence that may disturb readers. Names have been changed to protect the innocent and guilty.

“James, you pretend to rape her,” said Jack, pointing from James to me. My whole body tensed.

“Huh?” James looked at Jack in confusion. Then he shook his head. “Nu-uh.”

“Just hold her down. Pin her arms to her side and pretend to rape her,” said Jack in irritation to James. It was Jack's game. Someone was supposed to be a police officer or spy. I can't remember which. Someone else was supposed to be some criminal master mind, some kind of mafia boss, except this was not any cops and robbers game I ever played. I was uncomfortable. Still, Jack was my next door neighbor. My family went to his house for dinner. His parents seemed nice. They did short term foster care placements. By all accounts they were upstanding citizens. They seemed to be a good family.

Except for Jack.

“Come on!” he spat, his foot tapping the broken cement sidewalk. Jack was the aggressive one. He asserted his dominance without caring what other people thought or wanted. But we did want to play. Even though I was introverted I needed to get out of my own head. I wanted to be with people for a little while, people I knew. We wanted to be outside. It was north of sixty degrees, the grass was green, and the sun was shining. We wanted to belong. No one else was out. No other kids were living on the street at that time. We were kids. What else were we supposed to do?

“I don't want to,” mumbled James.

“I don't want to either,” I mumbled, feeling the strength of numbers. I felt the danger of the suggestion – the idea of a boy holding me down, against any surface, in any position. Any way I pictured it, it made me uncomfortable. But I didn't know what rape was. I was only eight years old.

Jack rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine!” he snapped. “Just kiss her on the cheek and we can move on!” This was hard enough. This was awkward enough. Whatever rape was, this tiny peck was meant to stand in for it. To compound the strangeness, Jack knew James had a crush on me. Some perverse part of his eleven year old self knew the whole exercise was awkward for this seven year old boy and he wanted to make him uncomfortable. He wanted to make me uncomfortable. He wanted to both give James an opportunity with his crush even while relishing in the pain it would cause us both.

James flushed, leaned in, and kissed my cheek. My face a mask, I withstood the indignity. Jack grinned impishly.

“Okay, let's go!” Jack spun on his heels and took off running, James following quickly in an effort to avoid what just happened. I hesitated, giving them a head start, because of course, I wasn't sure how I felt about the situation myself.

Because I didn't know, I didn't tell anyone. I'm not sure Jack or James ever did either. If they did, they probably never said anything about that particular exchange. They probably never mentioned the fact that Jack, an eleven year old boy, ordered James, a seven year old boy, to pretend to rape me, an eight year old girl, in the course of play.

When I share this story, my husband tells me this is abnormal. Little boys don't play this way. Relaying the story makes his knuckles whiten and his jaw clench. His eyes water in a combination of frustration, anger, and disgust. He repeats himself.

"That is not normal, Alexis. Not normal."

But this was my experience. This kind of experience has marked my understanding of boys and men.

I can pull out a long list of times I have been hurt by both boys and men throughout my life because of my sex. It is extensive. It is disturbing. It is upsetting. It shouldn't be true, but it is.

So now, you wonder, why did she want to have a boy? Because I did. I absolutely wanted to have a boy. I wanted to have a boy so badly it hurt.

Because for me, raising a son would be redemptive. It would be an opportunity for me to raise a boy into a man who was compassionate - who saw all people around him as his equals - as human beings. I could raise an ally, as opposed to a predator. I could raise a gentleman.

And then there was the other side - the reason I didn't want to have a girl.

I didn't want to have a girl because I knew I couldn't protect her. I knew that no matter what I did, I couldn't save her from the realities of the world. At some point, I knew she would be stalked or harassed. I knew she would be offered a drugged drink. I knew someone would call her "bitch" or "slut" or ignore her very considered and valuable opinion just because she had a uterus and breasts.

I know if I had been pregnant with a girl I would have cried. I would have cried so hard, and long, and been so depressed, I don't know what I would have done. Because of boys like Jack. Because the world is so dangerous for women even still. Because men - and women - still don't admit the danger, and still blame women for it, even though the danger is perpetrated by boys and men.

And we raised them. Mothers and fathers raised these dangerous boys. We raised hecklers, abusers, and rapists. We raised them. We raised them because we didn't think about the shows they were watching. We raised them because we didn't tell them about our experiences of misogynist violence and how it affected our entire lives. We raised them because we didn't filter their music and movies. We raised them that way because we just laughed off their hitting the girl they liked because, "Ha, ha! Boys will be boys!"

I plan to tell Kiddo my story. My whole story. I plan to explain what happened to me and what effects it had. I plan to talk with him about what other boys do and say in his peer group. I plan to talk to him about how he interacts with girls. I plan to filter his music, movies, books, and shows. And if something contains questionable content, I plan to unpack it and answer his questions.

It's never too early to have these conversations. I know this because I knew boys - little boys - who were predators. I knew boys like Jack, who made it seem like this behavior was alright, even when it so obviously wasn't. I know if I wait, there could be consequences, the kind that ripple across people's lives. And I can't allow that. I won't leave my son's treatment of other people up to chance. I plan to raise a gentleman, a compassionate ally, a defender of people no matter their type. That is something that requires intention, and hopefully, a community of like-minded people committed to the same.

We can't have boys like Jack running around the world. Such boys do not turn into good men, and we're lying to ourselves if we think they can. Boys like Jack shouldn't be normal. They shouldn't even exist.

The Good of Mom Shaming

It is commonly understood that each gender has its particular difficulties. Often people say something to the effect of, boys may break things, but girls break your soul.

I don't know if this is because girls are taught to be a a certain way - demure and coy - hiding things until they feel the need to pull tidbits out to throw them in your face at your most vulnerable or what.

All I know is, there is definitely a culture, or perception, of women working against other women. This is incredibly useful for maintaining sexist structures.

Follow me here...think about a few of these sexist structures/circumstances:

Moms do not have paid leave.
Moms do not have enforced support to breastfeed practically (even if it is law).
Companies do not have on site daycare.
Parents are not protected from employer reprisal if their family needs them.
Women still make less per dollar than men.
Women are still less likely to be promoted.
Female students do not have structures to ensure breastfeeding.
Female students do not have guaranteed on site daycare.
Mothers are discouraged from bringing children to work or class.

That's just a taste.

Now I have recently been accused of "mom shaming." Whether that was realistic or not is a different issue. The fact is it was perceived. As such it got me thinking about that whole "mean girls" business.

I have a few thoughts of where this comes from. I think the "mom shaming" thing is a direct result of the above structures. Part of it is the unreasonable expectations we place on mothers to do everything - housework, childcare, and work outside of the home. Part of it is the unrealistic expectations we place on motherhood (perfection) - that if you screw up, you will ruin your children's lives forever.

But there is another important thing that we as women have perhaps ignored on a conscious level - that we are collectively deciding how we want to be as modern women and there is great conflict as to what that means.

I have a particular idea in my head what female identities should look like and how they should play out practically. These conceptions drive my actions and beliefs, so yes. I think certain decisions and actions are wrong. While context is important, it is safe to make generalizations as to what are better choices and what are not. All contexts are not equal. All choices are not good (think: spanking punishment or smoking while pregnant).

That said, I also understand there are tremendous forces pushing women from all sides and it is difficult to balance everything. In order to change the situation, we need to advocate for ourselves as a group. We need organizations to recognize the niche needs we have and we need them to support our needs in the public sphere. We need to recognize that we are still second class citizens and that needs to change.

If women are fighting about this and that, rather than focusing on big issues, it makes it a lot harder for us to get real social change. If we get real social change however, we are better equipped to make good decisions because we have undue stresses removed and much needed support systems. In short, we need to work together.

My conclusion? "Mom shaming" is an important indicator of underlying issues. Those "shame" moments point us to the areas where we as mothers need the most support from society. Rather than getting caught up in squabbles over whose choices are better, we need to take that information and use it to better the lives of women, families, and future generations.

We cannot do this alone, nor should we. It takes a village.

From Two to Three and Back Again

I feel like I have motherhood down. I mean, we have routines. I research milestones before we reach them, and potential difficulties, and we are prepared beforehand. We have strong bonds: Kiddo is close to his grandparents, Christian, and myself. He eats veggies and fruit. He nurses. He likes books. He plays by himself now. Things are going well.

Of course, just because I have the mother thing down does not mean that I have the wife and self thing down. Having a baby changes who you are and your relationship with your partner. The rebalancing act required to manage those pieces is still happening over a year after Kiddo's birth. Differences in expectations came out and continue to be managed (Think: "No, playing on your phone is not watching Kiddo!" "But everything has to be PERFECT!" "I need alone time too!" "I'm really tired!").

It was clear that both Christian and I needed to be clear about what kind of parents we wanted to be as well as how we need to parent together. This was necessary not only to have a united front for when Kiddo can talk, but also for us as partners.

And then there was the issue of you know, spending time together as a couple apart from anything parent related.

I've mentioned before this past year has been rough - for many reasons. Slowly Christian and I have been wading through the quagmire and coming to a clearer better place. It has taken many late night talks, and fights, and whine fests to our respective support systems. Honestly, I still don't know what that better place means, or what all the details will be, but I am feeling better about many things.

The good moments are becoming more frequent. Our equilibrium is slowly returning. After doctoral applications (mine) are in and Ducati video classes (his) are done, I see dates in our future. Maybe even before then. And that's pretty exciting.

It is easy to forget about your partner as your partner after becoming parents, however you must remember. Integrating the new identity "parent" is part of that puzzle. Figuring out how to manage your relationship around that role is essential. This is how you truly move from committed couple or parent and child to a complete family. It may take work. It may be hard. But it is definitely worth it.

A New Birthday

Last night my niece was born. She was 8 lbs 11 oz and 20 inches. She was alert and eager to eat. My sister-in-law (SIL) was fine, but exhausted.

I am proud of my SIL. She was induced for a medical reason and she fought hard to have as natural a birth as possible. Of course, induction makes things harder because a woman's body isn't ready. Of course she went to the hospital. They monitored her in every way and things moved slowly. She wasn't allowed to eat except gelatin and ice chips.

Things moved along and her body wasn't quite as ready as my niece was to be born. More augmentation was needed. An epidural brought the process to a head and my niece was born vaginally.

My SIL did sooooo well during her contractions. She did so well the entire time. It was the first time I have seen birth (in person) from that perspective - the one supporting, not birthing. More than ever I am convinced that birth is the pinnacle of femininity and feminine power.

I am convinced that we, as women, need to claim our birthright (in every sense of the word). Our birthing needs to be respected, treasured, and guarded.

I was appalled at the words coming out of doctors and nurses as I supported my SIL. They talked flippantly  about how crazy natural birth is and how impossible it is for a woman to give birth in that manner. They talked about how God gave us drugs so we could use them (equating them with Round-Up to eradicate weeds...riiiight. Exactly.). They said these things despite the fact my SIL wanted natural birth and she was trying so hard to achieve it. Maybe they were trying to make her feel better about taking an epidural, I don't know. It felt like they just wanted her on the drugs even before it became clear what path the birth would take.

I thought we were supposed to support laboring women. I thought we were supposed to do what is best in each and every birth. Call me crunchy, but I thought there were reasons for natural birth - just like there are reasons for medical intervention! The process isn't pain - it's muscle contraction and stretching. Muscle contraction and stretching needs drugs? This implies every time we workout to failure, we need narcotics.

Wait, what?

But this is the logic.

It ignores the gifts this process gives women and babies. It ignores the millennia behind this process. It ignores the fact this is the supreme moment of feminine power and takes it away from us.

Sorry. No. I don't accept that.

I am so proud of my SIL - all the work she did. She was so good through the process. I am so glad she got her vaginal birth. I knew she could do it. I knew she would do it. After all, that is what our bodies were made for.

Post Baby Belly: Nightmares and Fantasies

Raisin.
Dried fig.
A shriveled apricot.

This is the appearance of that excess tummy skin some women are blessed with even months and years after pregnancy.

I have read everything I can about this and I am losing weight slowly but... I still have some wrinkled weird looking jelly belly happening below my belly button. It makes me incredibly self-conscious. I am painfully aware of short shirts that with the slightest movement could display this striped wrinkled monstrosity to the cold light of day.

This is what nightmares are made of. I am not documenting this...well maybe for myself, but not for anyone else to see. That's just not right.

Mine isn't as bad as some women's and I am hopeful that it will eventually find its way back to something close to normal. In the mean time, I forget to anxiously massage lotion into the area more than I would like. I then proceed to stare with critical eyes every trip past a mirror.

What can I do? I didn't realize having a baby would mean I might never be able to have a smooth belly again!

There are things I can do...like lose weight slowly, lotion it up, and drink uber amounts of water...but I am notoriously bad at doing these kinds of things. I mean, I was pretty good before Kiddo, but now I'm lucky if I brush my teeth. If I floss once and brush twice, it's a good day. Seriously.

On a side note, I am amazed more women don't have dental implants by 45. Are our teeth better just long enough to last through child bearing? These are the questions that keep me up at night...

That and my remaining jelly belly.

I'm not as worried about it as I was before starting my exercise regime. Now I feel like most of it will shrink back. I just wish the process was faster. I see all these celebs with their perfect bodies post baby and it makes me really cranky. I mean, why can't I have that?

Oh yeah...

So while I wait for the skin to smooth and the fat to flee, I will try to focus on the positives of the situation: my new eating and exercising habits, and the other bit. You know, that really adorable little person I hang out with on a daily basis. That guy. He's pretty sweet. And he likes to rub my belly like I'm Buddha while he's nursing. Who knows? Maybe I'm lucky several times over. If I'm really lucky, in a year, there won't be any left to rub.

Calling All WAHMs!!!

Right before I went on vacation I found another passion of mine (or at least a new avenue for an established passion).

If you've followed my blog(s) you're well aware of the wild difficulties our fledgling family has faced, especially in the past year. Because of our financial situation and my personal role in staying at home, I stumbled into a world of women that I never expected to participate in. I was certainly oblivious to the prevalence of stay at home (SAHM) and work at home moms (WAHM).

I wondered how many of these women were trying to make their lives better through starting their own businesses (between diaper changes, runny noses, and teething). Then I thought it would be really amazing to talk with these other women and maybe help them out (at least a little bit).

For this reason I'm calling all WAHMs! I want to interview WAHMs and highlight their businesses here on Raising An Alien. While I'd particularly love to connect with women here on the Central Coast, I'm quite happy to interview any WAHM who is in the process of establishing, or is successfully running her own business. I want to support my fellow moms, as well as share some of their wisdom and stories to inspire even more moms!

If you know of or are a WAHM (especially in California or the West Coast!) I would love to hear from you (use the contact form or my author FB page.)! Let me interview you and help shed some light on your work!

Nail Art: Staying Girly as a Boy Mom

I'm fancy!

Anyone who knows me knows I'm an active sort of person. This means I'm not very good at keeping my nails in good shape. I wasn't good before I had Kiddo and I'm not good now.

Instead of getting acrylic nails, I got acrylic paint under my nails. Instead of trimming my cuticles, I would rip them. Sometimes I'd just tear part of the nail off if it bothered me. To make matters worse, I'd nervously pick at any uneven portion. I've even been known to bite at ragged ends.

Yes, my poor nails were a hot mess.

They were.

I've been informed that as a mother of a male child, it's important to assert my femininity. Seeing as I'm getting ready for a big family event, I wanted to look cute. Two birds with one stone...or well three if you consider the makeover I basically got.

My soon to be sister-in-law did me a huge favor. She did NAIL ART! For those of you not in the know, that's art on your fingers! Whaaaaat?!?!?!

I've never had art on my fingers (I use my fingers to make art, not display it.). I'm notoriously bad at keeping nail polish in one piece. My longest chip-free stint was probably 3 days...maybe 2.5 if I get down to it. Because of my chip habit, I tend to avoid paying for any kind of anything on my fingers.

Well, I never would have gotten my nails ANYWHERE close to as nice as they are right now except my soon to be SIL is really good at this stuff. Really.

I'm hoping she goes into business for herself I was so impressed. She helped me tie together the color of my dress and the hair clip I'm planning on wearing. So...if you live in SB county, I know a really good nail artist! ;-)

In the mean time, I hope I don't mess them up!

Stresses, Personal Discovery, and Journals

The last couple weeks have been extremely hectic for a number of reasons. For one, kiddo continues to grow like a weed - both physically and mentally. He's begun to scoot backwards by pushing himself with his arms. Sometimes he gets up on his hands and knees and he rolls several times in a row to get to where he wants to be. The exertion makes him eat constantly and sleep almost as much. Also, his frustration level has grown because he wants to do so much and doesn't have the control he needs in order to do everything he wants. Big changes and mom is trying desperately to keep up.

Secondly, I'm in the midst of building up my classes. This has been a real growing experience for me on a number of levels. While I have a lot of different skills and knowledge sets, this endeavor is forcing me to learn more and develop others that I didn't have. It is definitely a process, especially when I'm putting out a concept that is pretty new to a lot of people (A group class that uses a mix of writing and conversation to help people work through aspects of motherhood is a surprisingly new frontier - who knew?).

Thirdly, my marriage is still in a pretty difficult place. The continued stresses of not having a regular income, living with my parents, and being new parents, combined with poor responses to those stresses have strained my marriage in a way that makes everything else harder. While  I don't really want to get into details here at this time, I will only say that the whole situation has been incredibly trying and my frustration level with everything is through the roof. Luckily I have some supportive parents and kiddo's gurgling smiles chase even the darkest clouds away.

Ironically, this combination of things has opened my eyes to some things that I couldn't have seen otherwise. I realized ultimately that one of my biggest passions is empowering women. My life in the past few months continues to drive this point home over and over again. While things about women seemed to regularly surface for me, I thought they were isolated incidences. I didn't realize this was such an overwhelming theme for me.

In the process of this revelation, I recognized my own need to journal. Starting to do some of my class exercises opened the door for me to use journaling every night to process some of my own thoughts and feelings and it has subsequently become a very healing thing for me. While blogging and writing books uses some of my creative energy (and I love it) it doesn't help me address personal concerns that I need to understand or develop.

Three Things All Mommies Need

One way you can recharge!

The other day I wrote to get out some disturbing thoughts. As soon as I wrote them down I felt better - I had released those thoughts and their hold on me was completely gone. It was refreshing, cathartic, and relieving. I had no idea I'd been carrying all that ick around with me until I committed it to paper.

I mention this because I've noticed a few things that women after they become mothers:

1. Me Time - This is time when a woman can be just a woman by herself, separate from baby, spouse, and anything or anyone else. Personally, I like taking long baths for this purpose.
2. Dress-up - Okay this sounds a little girlish when you first read that, but it's important to dress-up like you're going out every now and again. I mean makeup, nice shoes, nice clothes, and jewelry. It makes you feel like an adult, even if you're just going to get groceries. I tend to do this even when I'm staying at home because I don't want to get slovenly.
3. Adult Time - This could mean time with friends or just your partner. Either way, it generally involves conversations that use three syllable words, with topics other than poop or spit-up.

While mommy specific classes don't necessarily require dress-up, they can fulfill the other two pieces of the mommy need triangle. I'm pretty sure teaching my classes will do that for my students, and even a little bit for me, which is why I'm so excited. I got a taste of adulthood this past Saturday at Christian's work holiday party and it reinvigorated me. I dressed up, I spent time alone doing my hair, and I got a significant dose of adult time. The result? I was flying high all day Sunday (you can ask the church band what I was like during practice!). I had no idea I was missing this kind of thing so much or that it was so important to my overall mood.

The moral of this story is whether or not mothers take a class, we all need to make time for ourselves in these three ways. It is how we can take care of ourselves, and when we take care of ourselves, we are better able to take care of our babies making us much better mothers.

How do you take care of your needs after becoming a mother? Leave a comment below!

Writing Classes for Moms!

I am sooo excited about my new project and I hope you will be too. I'm starting some writing classes for Santa Barbara County moms in different stages of their motherhood journey.

You can check out the different classes/focuses and some of the details on my class page (click the button above!). They are a rare thing, these parental writing classes, but I know for the students who choose to participate, they will have an enriching and wonderful experience. Women will get "me time," as well as a way to connect to other mothers. They'll have a safe, non-judgmental, and confidential space in which to express themselves about their experiences of different aspects motherhood.

As for the benefits to me, I get to combine three things I love: writing, teaching, and kiddo (well, babies in general!). Plus, I'll be able to be a mom without too much trouble - some of the classes I'll be able to have kiddo with me. It really is the perfect solution and I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner!

I have the overall themes for the classes determined (as you can tell from the info page). I'm also researching locations for the classes (I have a few different ideas and I'll choose the one that makes the most sense for the class goals and needs.). Once I have locations set, I'll determine times. As this is happening, I'm going to firm up the class plans and number of sessions. Thus far, two of the classes have a specific number of sessions, while the other two will be determined once I have confirmed class plans etc.

Then I'll need to start contacting different organizations, print out fliers, put up ads etc about the classes to connect to potential students. I know there will be interest.

I know this is going to be a great thing for everyone involved and I just can't wait to get started. It really is the perfect thing for me, and I know it will be great for the participants as well.

If you know people who would be interested in participating in these classes, please have them contact me through the contact form (click button above) or Twitter (@alexisdonkin).

The Most Important Job In The World

Governments, foundations, and corporations have invested in the wrong things. The wrong people are getting too much for what they do and the right people are getting too little.

Of course I'm speaking about mothers.

More than ever I'm convinced mothers do the most important job in the entire world (with dads being second). Here's why:

1. The breast is best - and can only be provided by a mother.
2. The time in the womb helps set the stage for a child's life.
3. When a baby is crying, for any reason, when given to his mother, he calms down immediately (even if the problem isn't addressed right away).
4. When looking at family photos, babies stare at pictures of their mothers more than anyone else.
5. When a mother walks into a room, her baby smiles big just because he sees her.
6. Scientists have said that a mother's voice is the most soothing sound in the world to her baby (even if that baby is an adult!).
7. A mom's smell is the best smell to her baby.
8. A mother's support is the most important support a person can receive - it didn't matter to a child if no one thought he were good in the play, as long as his mother did.
9. Even the smallest parenting decisions by a mother have a huge impact on a child for the rest of his life.
10. A bad relationship with one's mother can have horrible psychological consequences.

I know these things. I see them with kiddo.

One of the first ways kiddo showed his superbaby status was through manipulation. Let me explain. When he was very young, he wanted to eat even more often than he does now (unbelievable, but true!). So when he fussed he was given to me. When he rooted, he was given to me. So he started fussing or rooting whenever he heard my voice and wasn't with me. He'd be given to me and not be hungry. He just wanted me to hold him. He just wanted snuggles with mommy.

While I know if I disappeared for some reason kiddo would have tons of people to love and care for him, I also know there would be a hole for him. I know this because more often than not, I'm the only person who can comfort him. He sleeps better when I'm near. He eats more when it's from me. He smiles more when I'm around. I see the difference. It makes Christian jealous, bless his heart, but there's nothing I can do about it. This is what it means to be a mother.

This is why it is so wrong to mock someone's mother. This is why it's so wrong to attack a mother. Mothers are how humanity continues. Mothers make the world work. Mothers care, and love, and support, and lift us up. This is the job of "mother" and I can't imagine a more important one in the entire world.

And while I understand this, all children go through a period of time when they separate from their mothers and suddenly the mother gets trampled on by the teenage need for independence and a hormonally charged ego. It isn't until much later, when that teen becomes a parent that he or she suddenly understands the depth of value he or she had in his or her mother.

Knowing this, I wake up every day wanting to do right by kiddo. Maybe when he's older he'll read this and know that I was always hoping I wasn't doing too much or not enough - that I was worried I would screw it up. Maybe he'll realize how I measured every action, knowing how much of an impact every little touch and expression could have. Maybe he'll realize then just how important I am, the way he does now, simply the person who makes him feel safe and warm.

The Pants and The Skirt or Give and Take

I'm trying to figure out the pragmatic way to say things - to say things in such a way that doesn't step on toes or isn't oversharing. I mean, this is the internet. Not only do millions of people have access to every post I put up (not that they're reading them necessarily - I mean, seriously!) but the NSA could be analyzing my word choices (not like there's anything interesting to them on here either...but I guess they could get bored sometimes).

The pragmatic thing to say is I'm frustrated.

Not only am I frustrated, but I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed at things outside of my control, and I'm frustrated by the responses and reactions of others who don't seem to get it.

It all comes back to the role of wife and mother and the expectations around give and take.

For a long time women were expected to be perfect housewives. We were supposed to be Donna Reed with beautiful dresses, perfectly made-up faces, smiling as we vacuumed in high heels. We were supposed to wash the dishes at a time that wouldn't disturb our husbands. We were supposed to speak softly and tread lightly and let our husbands decide our fates, even if we manipulated them into making those decisions - ultimately it was their decisions. Our glory was producing beautiful well-rounded smiling children. Their successes were our successes. Our lives were meant to revolve around our husbands and our children, and outside of this, we had no lives. Domestic felicity was of utmost importance. We were meant to be the consummate givers, never meant to take. What could we possibly need?

Yeah right.

While some of the subservient role of wife and mother have disappeared, there are still parts of the social order that expect these things. There is the whole "super mom" concept which in many ways, is worse than the old Donna Reed ideal. Not only are we meant to cook, clean, and raise our children, but we're also expected to be a part of social organizations and work a full time job.

And husbands are supposed to do.... what exactly?

Though in the last ten years or so the "super mom" concept has eased somewhat, there is still this idea that women should give. Some of it is from society at large (read: men) but some of it is from ourselves. Thus our relationships with the opposite sex become marked by this idea that women give. We don't take. Our needs are subservient to those around us.

Clearly if we ever want to have an equal society women are going to have to change this belief. We have to take what we need. We have to be open to receiving the things that will make us not only satisfied, but fulfilled. Sometimes men are going to have to cook, clean, and even stay home with the kids (and many of them do - and that is awesome!). Sometimes women are going to have to be the ones to make the decisions that change the direction the family is going. Sometimes men are going to have to sacrifice things for the good of the family. Sometimes women are going to need to wear "the pants" so to speak, and sometimes men are going to have to wear "the skirt" (I say this despite the cringe it puts on my face...but humor me.).

So while we're remaking ourselves, let's slowly take steps in that direction. Both men and women can work towards this - it's not just a problem with women (though we certainly can't stand by on the sidelines). And I'll dream of Finland (they're super egalitarian there).