Archive for the 'Relationships' Category

Good things

I am in such a wonderfully good place right now. There are still enough days between now and due dates that I’m not yet in full freakout, and I am surrounded by the most wonderful and caring people anyone could know. It began yesterday with some sweet things my kids said, then I was surprised late at night with warm sticky rice in coconut milk topped with cashews and a glass of good wine. Today this was followed up with kids who are excited to be learning to write secret codes in binary/ascii, who laugh, joke around and tell me they love me, and finally an end of semester party with Actiongirls and the Women’s Studies Student Association. These men and women are fun, intelligent, committed to social justice, the environment, feminism, and friendship. It feels so good to be a part of the group. Thank you Carol, Aubrey, Tina, Mike, Edith, David, Allison, Catherine, and Korinne. As for the party: good food, soooo much garlic, and a great theme picked out for next semester’s art-performance-extravaganza: Cliterature! Call for submissions coming out supersoon… stay tuned.

What my awesome kid did today

Between meeting his schoolbus, eating dinner and taking my daughter to aikido, my youngest son (5 years old) came up to me for a hug and noticed I was wearing the bead necklace/hairband he’d made me last week. He was so happy to see it on me – to know that I really and truly liked it enough to wear it. He said, “I love you so much mama and all the things you do for me.” I was thrilled – I don’t think I’ve made the request for help and cooperation for at least a few weeks so this was really coming from the heart.

Later when he emptied his lunch bag he showed me that he’d saved me the chocolate chips from his cookie. He likes the dough but not the chocolate so – I win! Love and chocolate, who could ask for more?

Spread ’em

There may be too much information here but just know that you’ve been warned…

I’ve been having irregular, unexplained pain in and around the area of my ovaries and uterus – completely incapacitating pain to the point of tears – for the past ten months or so. It used to only last a few hours so I’ve managed it with ibuprofen and ice and sleep. I talked to my nurse practitioner (NP) and we were both willing to call it dysmenorrhea – painful periods – and I was just going to eat better, sleep better, and get more exercise and it would go away. This month it came two days after my period ended so I can’t call it dysmenorrhea anymore.

I went for a pelvic exam last week and the nurse practitioner really blew it. It didn’t start well from the time I got to the clinic, where I’ve been going for six or seven years; I wasn’t on the day’s schedule. Then they couldn’t find my chart. Then they couldn’t find the NP. Finally I was called and while the registered nurse was bringing me back to the exam rooms and starting to steer me into the first empty one the NP says, “No – we need #4 [room] – we need to do a [in a Very LouD WhisPER] PAP SMEAR And EverYThING.” Good grief. Why announce this in this way? Surely the NP does them all the time, the reg. nurse has certainly seen them, I’ve had babies, the staff in the office all know they happen there regularly – what’s the big deal? It’s not like the NP was keeping it confidential to protect my privacy – a loud whisper attracts a lot of looks – everyone in the office this time as a matter of fact. I just thought, ‘whatever’ and proceeded to say no thank you to a weigh-in and also declined the yucky gown since I’d worn a skirt just for the occasion. I remember reading this waaaay long ago, probably in Our Bodies, Our Selves and think keeping on her own clothes is the least a woman needs when she’s going to be in such a powerless situation.

So it wasn’t long before I was opening wide for the exam (no stirrups at least) and the NP is getting ready for the pap. I am covered from waist to thighs with a white sheet and have a pretty good view of what’s going on – including the look of disgust on the NP’s face. If ever a woman has been sensitive or insecure of her sexuality, or the ‘normalcy’ of her genitals, or the skid marks from childbirth three times over, a look of disgust on the face of the NP is not what she needs. I asked what the face was for and the response was “Some women have more mucous than others.” Then I see the swab come out of me (indeed covered with what I recognize as egg whitey highly fertile mucous – not yeasty or anything) and the NP drops it in the waste basket with a shudder.

Honestly, a NP shouldn’t be doing pelvic exams if they can’t do it neutrally. Wanna know how sexual/desirable I feel these days? Besides the worry of what’s wrong with me, which is tied to the whole aging fear, which is tied to the ‘what do I want to do when I grow up’ anxiety now I’m having flashbacks to how ‘gross’ I am.

The rest of the exam was uneventful except that there were some areas of concern from the visible exam. The NP told me this after I sat waiting for 30 minutes in the exam room – I’d been forgotten. Luckily I had Feminism in Twentieth-Century Science, Technology, and Medicine to study for school while I was waiting. How completely ironic. Another nurse found me and asked why I was there, then went to find the NP again. It’s a busy place and I don’t begrudge anyone this but the combination of circumstances of the afternoon left me feeling kind of worthless.

I’ll definitely be talking to the NP for the sake of the women who might follow me, and I’ll request a different NP for next time. And maybe I’ve happened upon a project for my research class – improving conditions for pelvic exams.

Stupid. Custody. Orders.

Their father picked them up this morning for his every-other-weekend and started to pull away from the curb. He paused a few feet up the street and my daughter (12) opened her window and said the youngest (5) forgot to hug me. I could hear him in the back seat saying “Mama – I didn’t get to hug you – – ” And then his dad drove away.

Totally, totally fucked up way to live. I feel it in my stomach, my arms, my eyes, my throat.

Cleaning, Purging, Finding, Remembering

I have been trying to make the house more functional. When we first moved here years ago the house was gross – a real fixer-upper but all we could afford: fillled with mouse poo, dog pee in every room, angry holes had been smashed in the walls, graffiti was everywhere and these were just the cosmetic details. Every carpet had to be torn up, new plywood put down on all the floors, the pipes literally scraped out. There was never any real plan to ‘decorate’ or ‘set things up’, it was more of a “we have stuff, get the boxes in and shut the door fast.” The walls got painted white and the boxes got piled in the first room we finished but that was as far as it ever got.

It was about a year and a half later that the kids’ dad left. The place was still a disaster. I needed to do something to clean the air and make start making a home. The entranceway had wood on the lower half of the walls making this the smallest project and so I painted the upper half with paint I got from the Habitat Re-Store for $5. I used garbage bags to apply the paint and created a truly “faux” frottage finish. I put my rocking chair in that space and spent many days there nursing the newborn with the other kids on my lap and looking for designs in the paint. It was my first glimpse into making a house into a home, not just a shell for hiding stuff.

I got some hand-me-down furniture and slowly the house developed some character. There’s no theme since most of the paint was whatever colour the Re-Store had the day I could get a ride there, but I’ve enjoyed doing what I have been able to do. The attic has been the hardest. The kids’ rooms moved up there a few years ago and it’s finally starting to get homey. This was their dad’s space, where he locked himself for days at a time. I wasn’t allowed in there and it never occured to me that this was screwed up. Really bad marriage. I’ve just about managed to whiddle the junk down to the stuff I really really really want to keep – some high school artwork, my first ballet shoes, a special box of baby clothes, including some that I made for the kids. Through doing all of this I am finding lots of things: little notebooks from high school where I wrote down random thoughts or when I was at university the first time before I dropped out to move back home and get married. I’ve found clipping from magazines and papers, of theatre reviews from shows I did or saw. And I found things copied out of books – things I took the time to write by hand in a notebook or on scraps of paper. I found the ones below during the nursing days when I wanted to build an element of celebration into the hard days I had with the kids when we were first getting the hang of family restructuring:

from A Child’s Book of Blessings compiled by Sabrina Dearborn

We used this one regularly at dinner time for awhile while lighting a candle. We used it again at the end of the meal. The kids got to take turns blowing it out which helped them stay in their seats longer too.

Blessing to Start an Activity – Steiner
Candle Fairy burning bright
Come and share with us your light.
May we always learn to share
With the Children everywhere.
Candle Fairy burning bright
Come and share with us your light.

I never learned this one probably because the ‘Goddess’/deity language isn’t my thing but I like the last line about meeting, parting and meeting again. It looks to the future like the French “à bientôt” – until next time. Maybe this is why I prefer “See you later” to “Goodbye”. And all the merry’s remind me of the traditional East Coast tunes I love.

Blessing to End an Activity – Starhawk

May the circle be open, but unbroken.
May the love of the Goddess be ever in our hearts.
Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.

This one I don’t even remember but I think I will try to find some way to work it into my life. I’d really like some peaceful comings and goings, I think that’s my goal for the year: to look at things but not let them overwhelm me, to pace myself so that I can enjoy what I’m doing instead of always looking at all that needs to be done, whether that’s in my own life, in my family, in my house, my neighbourhood, on campus, in the city, or the world. Goodness knows we need social change but is me jumping up and down at the people around me and not sleeping because I’m trying to fix everything really the way a person should live their life?

I wish this to you as well:

New Year Blessing – Chinese
May you have success in all endeavours.
May you have peace and health in the four seasons.
May your happiness be as wide as the sea.
May all your comings and goings be peaceful.

More on lists and routines

I’ve written about lists before and now Rob is writing about lists too.

After reading Rob’s post (based on a conversation with Jeff) there’s an advantage to making a list that I think he hasn’t realized. I know that when I see another person’s list, I know how I can best help them. I’m a helper. This is where my passion for social justice originates. I like to work for causes, and whether the cause be sexism or a cluttered basement I come at them with passion. Sometimes I do better with the basements because I know I can really make a difference there. I also take pride in results. When I can see my efforts have made a difference I know I am valuable. So you see, it’s all about me. Your list has the potential to raise my self-esteem.

I come from a family of list-makers. My parents kept a (very short and ever completed) list on the fridge. My dad worked a lot and so it was my mother’s eyes that identified a lot of the things that needed attention. Since she worked part-time and was and is a thorough (very thorough) housekeeper, she noticed things in need of maintenance and repair before the damage was ever too serious. The list allowed them to prioritze jobs and because they worked together they motivated each other. It also helped that they had the same goals: to keep their house in shape.

I have had lists on my fridge, in between the artwork, receipts, and event notices, and somehow friends notice them from time to time. Several times this sharing of lists has turned into offers of help with tasks that were too big for me to do on my own. Once it turned into a referral to someone who replaces windows well and for cheap. It can serve as an indirect way for people who are uncomfortable asking for help to let their needs be known. If a helper comes along, they’ll have an opportunity to offer. Other people won’t even notice the list.

Personally though, I’m changing my way of tackling list-type jobs. Instead of itemizing things that need to be done in lists that are beyond my time and energy, I’m trying to add routines to my life. I’m already decent at keeping up the laundry (washing and folding anyway). But wiping down the bathroom daily is becoming instinctive. It’s not the same as a thorough cleaning, but it’s manageable and keeps it tidy. For now I sweep the centre of the room which makes the kitchen look much cleaner and I hope to add the edges one day soon, as soon as I get the ‘important stuff’ picked up from where it lines the walls. The more times I sweep the more I want to deal with the clutter so that my kitchen is returned. It does look better. It’s not as good as sweeping and washing and scrubbing down the cupboards might be, but I don’t have time for that right now. Sweeping is acceptable – and much better than doing nothing. Vaccuuming will be added one day when I get a decent vaccuum that can handle the hair 3 people with long hair shed plus the hair of my cats. I figure that once I get used to doing these little things on a regular basis I’ll have more energy to tackle the big things. Becuase the things that used to seem like big tasks will be ordinary routines I won’t notice them anymore.

WoW – The New Birth Control

Rob acquired a 14-day free trial dvd for World of Warcraft. Since we’re getting hyped up for E3 and our trip to California (next week!) we thought it would be the perfect time to get in the spirit and see what all the WoW hype is about. Four days, 3 characters, and a combined 20 levels later I think I see the addiction taking hold. The first night it took forever to install, lots of upgrades, patches, etc. By the time we got started I was already tired but somehow we got the human male up to level 6. Lots of Kobold Vermin dead. At 2 a.m. when I told Rob I was going to bed he said he’d be right there. Hmmmm. “Right there” was close to an hour later.

The next night was my turn. I created a human female character and we took turns levelling her. More Kobold vermin dead. Then Kobold workers and Rob was killing some warriors when I went to bed.

The game is on Rob’s laptop so he’s been carrying it around with him, playing with friends at lunch, playing at the coffeeshop after work. I really felt like I was starting to lag. So Saturday we worked out a deal – I would cut his grass since he has bad allergies and in exchange he would do some server work for me for some other sites I’m working on. I did the grass cutting during the day but he couldn’t get to the computer until after his daughter was asleep. Bwahahahahahahhaha. While he struggled with Gallery2 I got to create yet another character. A beautiful and talented Druid Night Elf named Daksha. A new race meant a new map, new quests, new spells. It was so much like being pregnant and giving birth. Choosing a name for a character is as challenging as naming a child. Luckily there are plenty of baby name sites. This was when I noticed the brewing addiction. I was probably ready to quit around 2a.m. but kept telling myself, “one more quest, just finish this last one.” After all, can’t leave the guy to suffer without the antidote to his spider bite. That would just be plain cruel. With Rob’s prodding I got her to level 6, found her a new home and put her to bed in the Inn. I hated the spiders – they sneak up behind you and start attacking when you’re not expecting it. I’ve got some better spells now and hope to be able to fight them off more easily the next time I get a chance to play. I’m still in need of the spider egg but the spiders freak me out too much I just can’t bare to go into their cave.

I didn’t get to play any last night since I have to prepare some photos which will be exhibited here at a conference while I’m in California and I’m having a heck of a time getting them done. I wonder what’s going to happen when the 2 weeks expire. I wonder if Rob will subscribe or if he’ll be ready to try something else. I wonder if I’ll get my own install…

Sleep

I have slept most of this weekend. I am in the midst of midterms and struggles with life, work, love and have no energy for any of it. I’m ready to quit it all and crawl in my hole (yet again) until I’m stronger.

But of course, I don’t get that choice. The exams require my presence, the jobs must be done, and you can’t not deal with life just because it’s hard. It’s just not fair.

This week, for the first time since I started this degree, I considered not handing in a paper. I figured one mark a day is the usual penalty and a quiet weekend to work on it would make it a much better paper than the draft I had so far…but then I checked the syllabus: “papers handed in after the due date will not be accepted.”. Of course I started to cry and then worked until 3:30 a.m. at which time I fell asleep in the chair for a few hours. I woke up at 5 to finish it and then at 9 a.m. handed in probably the worst paper of my career. The paper wasn’t difficult which is why it makes it so much harder to take. It came down to not having had sufficient time to work on it. Sufficient days, yes, if I didn’t have other responsibilities, but not with the life I currently lead. (Hence the previous post about having to Cut Cut Cut from my list.)

Did I mention the uti? Read more »

Greeting Cards

Deborah Tannen says, “women and men have different past experiences.” This different experience means that men and women’s perception and understanding of the world will be different. Tannen supports the dual culture approach to analyzing men and women’s behaviour and the characteristics she describes can be found in an analysis of the attached greeting cards.

Tannen describes the stereotype of men as strong and silent (439). The baby boy card analyzed for this paper illustrates this concept repeatedly. Repeatedly the author refers to the boy’s strength: in lines 7, 9, and 12 the amount of strength the child has is noted. The baby boy is crafted with “sinew” (line 6). Sinew implies strength as it is used for connecting muscle to bone. The child’s ‘frame’ (line 6) is a metaphor for a strong, stable building. The author furthers the metaphor of the strong-standing structure when he or she discusses how “the storms of time would . . . never break him” (line 8). This building has such a powerful frame that it will be resilient and invincible, much like the child will be because he is male. Regardless of the hurdles this child will face in his life, there is no reason to fear because he was made to “take the stresses of life” (line 7). Come what may, this male child will survive. He will be successful. “Like a sunrise, the child is dependable” (line 10). The author says the child will be “unafraid to live” (line 9). Bravery is a stereotypical male characteristic that the author uses here to further describe the male experience.

An infant is not capable of high level reasoning but that is what the author suggests in line 5 when he or she says the infant boy will at birth be asking the philosophical question of “why?” This is an example of another stereotype, men’s superior intelligence, that is perpetuated in this card.

Tannen also points out that boys spend more time playing outdoors than girls do (440). This is shown in the outdoor imagery used in the card (kites, rainbow, clouds, sky). Each of these implies the great freedom that is available more to males than to females.

In contrast, the baby girl card emphasizes her need and dependency. The visual image of an infant in a basket symbolizes helplessness and immobility, much like the stereotypes associated with women. The ribbon is symbolic of how women are restrained or ‘tied down’ in society. The focus in this card is how the baby girl will love the family and what she will offer to them, that is, her unconditional love (line 3). In the boy’s card, his strength is emphasized whereas in the girl’s card her dependence and need is stressed (lines 4-5). She is helpless and will need tender care in order to survive. It can also be questioned whether that this baby “will change [her family’s] life forever” (line 7-8) is a positive thing. To receive the challenge of raising someone this dependent does not sound like an enjoyable task. One could question if these changes are going to be ‘good’ changes. The metaphor of the clinging, draining leech seems fitting when reading the description of this baby girl.

Both the baby boy card and the baby girl card perpetuate the traditional stereotypical gender marking of pink for girls and blue for boys.

The cards for mother and father also present some interesting contrasts. The card for mom is pink like the one for the baby girl. The father’s card is blue. The mother appears to have been out shopping, a stereotypical female activity. Mom is further stereotyped by her clothing: Mom is a homemaker, hence the apron and oven mitts; her mini skirt and wild colour and pattern combination shows that Mom is stylish and aware of current fashion trends – she is concerned with her appearance; her bag full of vegetables means that Mom is health conscious and responsible for the health of others. The only word on the face of the card is “Supermom.” The pressure is high for Mom to be all things to all people, a struggle feminists have been fighting for a very long time.

Mom is described with the metaphor of the superheroine, except that she is represented as invincible in only traditional female roles. Inside the card, Mom can “conquer . . . laundry” (line 2). She is a genius of the domestic trade. She can multi-task including acting as chauffeur (line 4). Even though it is Mom’s birthday, the author says Mom can “still find time for a little one-on-one” (line 6). This implies that Mom still must give of herself to the giver of the card. Mom’s “heroism” (not her ‘heroine-ism’) is based on her ability to complete household chores. Mom is solely appreciated for her success in the long-established female sphere. Women are expected to be caretakers and that is perpetuated in this card.

Dad’s card however presents a parent who has a lot more leisure time than Supermom. Daddy equals fun; he is “your best buddy” (line 18). Mom equals work; she takes care of you. Maybe Daddy has a lot more time (line 15) because he is not preoccupied with trying to be Supermom. Daddy is affectionate throughout the imagery and language of this card, which differs from the traditional stereotype of men being emotionally distant. But whereas the male card has expanded to include some non-traditional behaviour for Dad, the same does not apply in the card for mom. Daddy plays games with his child (line 8-9). This could be because Daddy’s work is outside the home and hometime is his leisure time. If Mommy is a full-time homemaker then she likely does not have leisure time at home. Two more male stereotypes are illustrated in this card: “A daddy helps fix things (lines 3-4) and Daddy “buys ice cream” (lines 5-7). Tannen says men like to talk about “how things work” (443). This father is involved in showing his child how to repair the wagon, perpetuating the stereotype that men have good mechanical skills. When Daddy buys the ice cream for his child instead of Supermom buying a treat for her child in her card, it shows insight into who controls the family money. Mommy buys the necessities of life; Daddy buys treats.

All four of these greeting cards perpetuate gender-based stereotypes for males and females. Although there were a few gender-neutral cards available, for the most part, these cards reflect the choices available at this time in our community.

Works Cited

Tannen, Deborah.

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