Thursday, February 26, 2009

Debating working and/or staying home Mothering...

I don't have any debate within myself about why I stay at home with my two boys, it was timed with a move and money and a lack of career-path-set-in-stone... but here I am, the second year of the first time since I was fifteen that I HAVEN'T worked. Its cool not to work, to have no timetable but one's own... almost like Woolf's room of one's own but - not quite. We're poorer financially, certainly. And I readily and frequently throw my hands in the air and dream about working and being able to finish something more meaningful than the laundry or dinner. And then I think of all the stress and shit that go along with jobs, and bosses and nylons that bunch at the ankles, and I'm looking around at the mess that no one but me will tackle and it seems more palatable. I think we all do what we have to do, and I'd be working if I had to and I'm sure I'd like the change of pace. It would be nice if we could drop our guesswork/judgement about other women and their mothering. Its not all about the kids. reminding ourselves of that seems to be a daily task for those of us who've taken our 'feminism' classes. Sometimes I feel incredibly duped by the woman's movement... it sure didn't let me know what motherhood was going to 'fulfill' in my search for self-identity. It focused more on what was lost. - and there is that. really and truly, today is the day I feel a loss, a woman full of fury at the job of taking hands out of the toilet, fending off filth as though it mattered or was a one-of. . .

there is a poem out there by adrian blevins... let me see... can't find it, for new mothers in america or something like. find it yourself.

still trying to read adrienne rich's Of Woman Born, but I find myself arguing with the book and generally skimming through it to find more of RELEVANCE to me. in my day to day, i just do not care about institutionalized patriarchy or the wildrumors of a godddess-led matriarchical past. I want to know how to balance what my life is like against what i had thought it would be or what my mother expected for me. ( not MY mother in particular because i don't want to get into it, but mothers in general in a generational sort-of way)