I live in Los Angeles...like many Los Angelenos, I drive. Alot! If I'm taking my son to and from school on a given day, and then myself to and from work, I am in the car for a minimum of three hours. Two if the school run is eliminated. It's a lot of time with nothing to do but sit...and listen...and talk...and think. And I do it all. Anytime the boy is a passenger, there is only children's music, or reggae (thank god for his love of the reggae or I'd be left with only endless repeats of Ralph's World, Laurie Berkner, and They Might Be Giants (the latter being somewhat tolerable if you don't have to do the same disc more than twice in a 24 hour period)...Without the boy, I do a little BBC World News in the morning because British news is so much more interesting than local LA news...A good dose of NPR keeps me in touch with happenings of the world, and my town, and then there's music...Today I blasted compilation discs of punk and new wave from the late 70's until my ears bled...It shakes out all of the angst and eradicates the day of work from my brain...I can sing my little heart out and bop in my seat as I creep along the 405...Or I'll call my mom. Somewhere during the drive I check in to see how she's doing. She just moved back to LA after twenty years in the civil little town of Grants Pass, OR. Twenty years was just enough time to erase any memories of life and living in LA for her. She's experiencing some culture shock now that she's left her little town. I'm glad she's here and she's slowly adjusting so I take advantage of my hours in the car to check in with her so that I can devote my home time to the boy and the man...
The funny thing about the whole drive thing is that I hate driving, and I drive more than anyone I know! Thank god for diversions...like great music, compelling news, and my over active imagination...
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Good Girl
My son, who as you know is a boy of few words, said "Good Girl" to my husband today when told that mom was making a salad to take to work for lunch. When asked if he meant because mom was taking a healthy lunch, he shook his head. When asked if it was because mom is supposed to cook (or prepare the food), he vehemently smiled YES! My husband naturally laughed heartily and quickly shared the conversation with me. I too laughed, more because I was proud that Cole had eeked out a couple of words, but also because he had a funny opinion of our respective roles.
I'm not sure where it comes from though. We are a fairly liberal family. I don't think we adhere to traditional designations of what a wife/mother or husband/father should be. We each have our strengths and tend to pitch in wherever and whenever needed. We both work. We both cook. We both care for Cole. We are both involved at his school, in fact, my husband even more so than I. We both give baths, do homework, play games, do playdates. Yet, for some reason there are things that the boy prefers to have one or the other of us to manage. He actually likes me to bathe him, but prefers his dad to do the drying. I have to put him to sleep...but dad gets him ready for bed. And apparently, I'm supposed to do the cooking.
Does he think I'm a better cook, or that it's my role to cook? And where does this opinion come from? He doesn't eat much (he's fed through a g-tube) so I don't think he knows per se that I am a good cook (I am!). which leads me to believe that he simply thinks the moms should do the cooking. Is this supported by things he sees or hears at school, in books, on TV? My curiosity lies more in how his brain works than in the notion of roles, but I am curious nonetheless. In the meantime, I am happy to be labeled the Good Girl...I wish our lunatic puppy felt the same!
I'm not sure where it comes from though. We are a fairly liberal family. I don't think we adhere to traditional designations of what a wife/mother or husband/father should be. We each have our strengths and tend to pitch in wherever and whenever needed. We both work. We both cook. We both care for Cole. We are both involved at his school, in fact, my husband even more so than I. We both give baths, do homework, play games, do playdates. Yet, for some reason there are things that the boy prefers to have one or the other of us to manage. He actually likes me to bathe him, but prefers his dad to do the drying. I have to put him to sleep...but dad gets him ready for bed. And apparently, I'm supposed to do the cooking.
Does he think I'm a better cook, or that it's my role to cook? And where does this opinion come from? He doesn't eat much (he's fed through a g-tube) so I don't think he knows per se that I am a good cook (I am!). which leads me to believe that he simply thinks the moms should do the cooking. Is this supported by things he sees or hears at school, in books, on TV? My curiosity lies more in how his brain works than in the notion of roles, but I am curious nonetheless. In the meantime, I am happy to be labeled the Good Girl...I wish our lunatic puppy felt the same!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Sunshine and Summer
As summer descends and our days grow longer, warmer, and brighter, I notice that my mind tends to wander to my past. To carefree summer nights spent dancing and drinking deep into the night and stealing free day time hours at the beach with friends. To times when my responsibilities were limited and my attention was devoted selfishly to reckless, feckless fun. And it was okay. And sometimes I wish I could have some of those days and nights back...
Now that I'm older, presumably wiser, and most importantly, a parent, summer means figuring out what to do with my child while I work, my husband works, and he has endless weeks of no school. My appreciation for school grows with each summer...We prep for summer by finding camps and setting up playdates to fill his days with non-stop activity. He too is thrown off by the vast amount of free time. He loves school. He cherishes the routines of the school year...He misses friends during the summer.
I still love the longer days and having sunlight in the evenings. It makes me feel more productive to have it still be light when I return home from work. I can play in the garden, tinker on little backyard projects, enjoy a glass of wine while Dan grills something...and I love it. And I sometimes wish I could tuck my child into bed, slip on a slinky black sundress and sandals, and head out to a night club of my past and dance until I'm hot and sweaty and thoroughly happy...alas...there's work tomorrow, and a boy who wakes at dawn...
Now that I'm older, presumably wiser, and most importantly, a parent, summer means figuring out what to do with my child while I work, my husband works, and he has endless weeks of no school. My appreciation for school grows with each summer...We prep for summer by finding camps and setting up playdates to fill his days with non-stop activity. He too is thrown off by the vast amount of free time. He loves school. He cherishes the routines of the school year...He misses friends during the summer.
I still love the longer days and having sunlight in the evenings. It makes me feel more productive to have it still be light when I return home from work. I can play in the garden, tinker on little backyard projects, enjoy a glass of wine while Dan grills something...and I love it. And I sometimes wish I could tuck my child into bed, slip on a slinky black sundress and sandals, and head out to a night club of my past and dance until I'm hot and sweaty and thoroughly happy...alas...there's work tomorrow, and a boy who wakes at dawn...
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