Juggling Life

I've got a Binder . . .

Binder Full of Women . . . 

For some reason that's set to the tune of Pocket Full of Sunshine in my imagination. Lots of people have had lots to say about that sound bite, so I wasn't going to weigh in (flip comment on this post aside), but since a couple of you asked me to . . .

I was running late coming home from work Thursday night so only had to time to drop my purse and push the power button on my laptop before the debate started. The laptop was important because I must say that my favorite thing about The Twitter is that it provides a plethora of hysterically funny snark during events such as the Oscars and Presidential Debates. The fact much of the snark is also insightful adds to the pleasure.

Right off the bat I'm pretty pleased because unlike the first debate my candidate seems to be ON. That's a relief.

Then the frustration begins when, in my opinion, Mitt Romney will not answer a single question. My intelligence is already insulted from the feeling that he considers it plausible, even likely, that his vague assertions of "my plan will give you that" and "I'm not going to cut that" are supposed to be accepted by voters.

On first pass, the binder full of women comment whizzed by me as I was immediately stunned by the follow up about the need for a flexible schedule for women because of their responsibilities at home.

I may have actually said aloud (though I was the only one home), "Did Mitt Romney just tell me I should be able to leave work early enough to fix my man some dinner? 'Cause that's what it sounds like he just f***king said."

As the evening went by I read lots of tweets referring to the binder full of women and before the debate was over, I'd visited the genius Tumblr HeyVeronica had up so quickly after the remark was made that one can do nothing but gape in awe and hope she makes the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Certainly her moxie and intellect make a comical counterpoint to Mitt's assertion that he had to go looking for qualified women; apparently in all his time before becoming governor he never encountered (or if he encountered them he didn't remember them) smart, talented, well-qualified women. It rather boggles the mind. 

I was never going to like Mitt Romney's politics--but I never expected to so intensely dislike Mitt and Ann Romney. Every time I hear either one of them speak I have a visceral sense that they cannot fathom their privilege and their luck and therefore they are 100%  not qualified to be any part of running this country. None whatsoever. 

They seem to live in some parallel, behind-the-gates community where it's still the 1950s and women, people of color and the poor are considered second-class citizens whose needs and desires deserve no consideration and must be kept in their places at all times and costs and the white, male patriarchy's mission is to perpetuate itself.

I know that there are intelligent women I like and respect who will vote for Mitt Romney. I cannot understand it. I cannot ask them because it would be rude and and if I asked them I would be compelled to rebut their assertions;  in a month this election will be over and they will still be my friends and neighbors, so I will not go there. But I do not and can not begin to fathom how they can consider doing this to themselves and their daughters.

Bad Mom wrote a post about white privilege that I wish the Romneys would read. They probably won't, but you ought to. Like Bad Mom, I will never forget to be grateful to the women that came before me in the feminist movement and created a country that allowed me to follow my dreams--no less a wonderful gift because my dreams were fairly traditional and involved a husband and kids. 

Today my dream is that President Obama gets reelected; because a country run by the unempathetic likes of Mitt Romney sounds like a nightmare to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art Imitating Life

I don’t watch a lot of TV. Or, more accurately, I don’t watch a lot of TV that I choose to watch. The TV is on often enough—Danger Boy, Pedro and a cadre of other 17-year old boys use the big screen in the family room to play Madden ‘11 and Pro-Evolution Soccer whenever they aren’t at water polo practice (which, admittedly, isn’t that often these days). When the guys head to the pool, Social Butterfly grabs the remote and hits either MTV or Disney Channel (what can I say? the girl has eclectic tastes).

Of course both the previous scenarios presuppose that a) there is not a Padre game on and b) Mr. Fix-it is not home. If there’s a Padre game on then all or a portion of the trio Grown-up Girl, Mr. Fix-it and/or Pedro will be following the game closely. If Mr. Fix-it is home both he and I insist that, as the main breadwinner (hence, not home all day), general hard-worker and purchaser of said big screen, he be given first dibs.

When do I get the TV? When all of the above people are gone. MVP doesn’t really factor in because he decided last year that “TV is a waste of time.” He reads. (I know—I can totally handle a little college-student elitism if it results in more reading).

Last week I found myself in control of the remote with a decent span of time to control it on the horizon. I turned to Netflix Instant Queue and choose an indie film, sherrybaby, starring one of my favorite actresses, Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Nobody inhabits an uncomfortable role with more comfort than Maggie. It matters not how odd or deviant the character, she brings total believability to the role. She did not disappoint as Sherry.

The result of her fine acting, and the subject matter, is that I felt sick to my stomach through the entire movie.

I was supposed to have some sympathy for this damaged young woman who had made, and continued to make, a mess out of her life. The film pulled no punches in revealing the why that preceded her descent into addiction which led to her imprisonment and her separation from her daughter. I did not. I could not.

All the sympathy the film evoked was focused on her daughter, and the aunt and uncle that took care of her while her mother, best intentions consistently abandoned, screwed up again and again.

The cavalier way that Sherry disregards and minimizes her brother and his wife, and their roles as de-facto parents for her daughter, and her own daughter’s very personhood hit just too close too home for me.

I am old enough to know that life cannot be this cut and dried, but, for me, when a child enters the picture your life becomes about him or her and my sympathies will always be with the child.

This movie, an excellent and true depiction of the generational damage that is so hard, often impossible, to overcome, left me feeling sad and empty. Both about the characters and about myself. I consider myself an empathetic person, but my life experience has left me with a block as to where I can extend that empathy—and this movie highlighted that for me.

Of Furrowed Brows and Real Grace

This picture is a perfect example of why I have a total girl-crush on Tami Taylor, played by Connie Britton, on Friday Night Lights. If you look closely you can see that her brow is furrowed. Furrowed just the way mine is and the way the brows of most normal 40-something year old women are.

I am not put off at all by her totally hot body and her gorgeous flowing locks because her face moves—and expresses, and reflects, a life that is about more than the way she looks—which just happens to be fantastic.

In addition, she is exactly who I want to grow up to be—a school principal. And, oh my, does she do that job with political savvy and cojones (there’s really no female equivalent for that word—is there?). She is not moving in a man’s world—she is making it her world. The good ol' boys of Texas Football boosterism don’t have a chance of running roughshod over her.

I also love that she embraces her roles as wife and mother with such passion. There’s no doubt that family is first for her—but she also expects (and gets) her family to support her as much as she does them.

The fact that Tami’s husband, Coach Eric Taylor, is played by one of my favorite actors, Kyle Chandler (who I’ve loved since he was in a show that nobody watched in the early 90’s, Homefront) is just gravy for me—Tami Taylor is the one that keeps me tuning in and TiVoing!

Who’s your girl crush?

Commentating the Decline of the Western Civilization

I believe it was David Sedaris who made the following statement (which I am seriously paraphrasing and possibly attributing incorrectly) about being one of the younger kids in a big family. “By the time my youngest sibling was a teenager my parents’ only rule was, ‘please don’t smoke pot in the living room while we have company.’”

I won’t claim to have sunk to that parenting low, but I have relaxed substantially about some things.

When my kids were much younger I definitely engaged in censorship regarding the media. I was a little stricter than the Motion Picture Association of America as far as age levels for movie viewing. However, anyone with a large family will tell you that it is well-nigh impossible to maintain the same standards for the younger children as you had for the older ones. Mostly because the older ones are not going to watch Blue’s Clues or Escape to Witch Mountain.

In that spirit, I must admit I watch Jersey Shore.  Let me explain why.

First off, there are my kids—four of them, ages 15-24. Then there was winter break where everyone was home. Add to the the TiVo, and suddenly here I am, having seen every episode of Jersey Shore.

This show is a train wreck in the Real World style (a show I’ve never watched more than a few moments of), done as only MTV can do reality. The young adults on this TV show are so lacking in any redeeming qualities that it boggles the mind.

The cast’s stupidity and vapidity are even more startling when contrasted with the fact that they think they are good people. I’m going to bring their looks into this only because they themselves focus so much on them. All I can say is that I don’t share their vision of “hot” at all. Because they all they think they are hot and I would liken them more to trolls.

So, why do I watch? I watch because I know my kids are watching and I want to know what the influences in their lives are.

That, and I can beseech them with requests along the lines of, “Promise you will never, ever dress like Snooki. Seriously, promise me!” and implore that “You realize that limiting your life to GTL (Gym, Tanning and Laundry) like The Situation and Pauly D is pathetic, don’t you?” That and “You are aware that kicking someone’s ass doesn’t make you a man/woman, right?”

My kids have suggested that MTV should show episodes of Jersey Shore w/mom commentary—since they don’t get to watch the show in peace they’re not sure why anyone else should be allowed to either!

TV In Your Kid's Bedroom: Friend or Foe?

I had this amazing original idea to write about whether or not kids should have how opposed I am to kids having TVs in their bedrooms. Then I opened this morning's paper and their was an article taken from The blog Tara Parker-Pope does for the New York Times. Of course I immediately scrapped the idea, I don't want people to think I'm a copycat decided, "Hey, if it's good enough for a real journalist to write about, it's good enough for 'lil old me to write about!"

Photo: NYTimes

Plus, this way you can pop on over to her post to read the actual research while I just spout my opinion!

I would never, ever let one of my kids have a TV in their room. That includes one they might buy with their own money. If a family can't come together to watch TV, when can they come together? It's not like you're asking them to sit at your feet as you read the Bible by candlelight. You're probably not even asking them to choose between American Idol and Survivor since most of us have DVR's.

Some of the greatest skills kids learn by being part of a family are compromise and negotiation. Have you ever been around a person who has always gotten everything their own way? So not pleasant. Picking what show you're going to watch on TV together, or what movie you're going to rent at Blockbuster, teaches the arts of compromise and negotiation. Not getting to watch what you wanted teaches you to lose hopefully gracefully. And if it's something you really don't want to see you always have the choice of going to your room and READING A BOOK!

There are those out there that are against TV completely, and I can see their argument. However, I personally love me some TV myself, so the no TV thing would never work in this house. We definitely have limits though, like no TV on school nights (unless it's something I really want to watch!), and no video games during the week. How much more TV would my kids watch if they could just head off to their rooms and tune in and out at their own discretion? Too scary to contemplate.

If you want to hear from the professionals all the evils that result from kids having TVs in their rooms, head on over to the New York Times article; or you can just agree with me vehemently and leave me "Go Girl" comments! If you really don't agree with me, I'd love to hear the pro-TV-in-the-bedroom argument!