Showing posts with label Feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feminism. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Mostly Different, But Sometimes the Same

My dad was raised by wealthy parents.  He had one half sister ten years older than him.  His family was not particularly religious but they believed in God.  They were upstanding members in the community and had wonderful friends that I have heard numerous stories about.  He was fairly intelligent and I grew up hearing about how high his IQ was and his natural propensity to exceed at a lot of things.  Many would label him a WASP.

My mother was the first of her siblings born in a hospital, the rest having been born in "the Marsh".  She had an alcoholic father who left their family while she was very young, a single mother, 5 sisters and 1 brother, who was the baby.  They believed in the Mormon faith and tried to attend church as circumstances allowed.  She remembers being hungry throughout her early child years and was the first to attend college in her family dropping out after one semester/year (I can't remember) due to lack of funding.

I tell you all this to simply say, my parents could not have been raised more differently.  Yet incredibly they found enough common ground to get married.  Many in my family would argue too much common ground, which would often be cited among close family and friends as the reason for their marital demise as well. 

Some of the things I remember their opinions being very similar on were the roles of women.  To say my parents viewed women as inferior and second hand citizens was something I grew up feeling.  The burden of my womanhood was a weight I carried early on and tried to shrug many times, often attaching the label of tomboy to myself was a relief, an acknowledgement that maybe I could fit in.

Likewise their views on children were similar.  "Children should be seen and not heard." was a common refrain around my home.  Dinner time was often the time we, children, were expected to sit quietly, with my dad being served first, then my brothers, then my sister and I, and last our mother.  Most discussion was considered an abrasive rub to my parents already day-worn nerves.  And being one of many children the amount of time my parents focused on us as individuals was next to non-existent. 

Needless to say I grew up feeling tenuous and practically expendable.  Often I felt like their level of love for me was dependent on what I had done or would do.  The more I excelled, the better it reflected upon them and therefore garnered me indifference.  But any weakness either physical or emotional was a liability that they didn't want to carry and treated with disdain and punishment often severe and physical. 

What is most shocking is that despite their similarities in views on these matters they could not have raised a child with more different ones.  I laughed as my brother texted me the other day seeking some parenting advice.  He was weighing it along with the opinions of three other trusted sources.  In the end I texted him inquiring what he had decided and why.  He gave his answer and reasoned it by saying, "I thought of what Mom and Dad would do and I did the opposite."

There are times when I feel the same way.  I could not love anything more than my children.  Their knowledge of my love for them is firm and secure.  I tell them constantly what incredible little people they are and I love to hear how their minds work and operate and how they view things.  Talking to them is the healing balm for my day-worn self and they guilelessly, as only children can, give me their advice and insight.

I have only one daughter and she could not be more treasured by any member of our family.  She is singularly the princess that could run and rule this house, but her purity makes her the most loving and generous soul you could ever imagine. 

So it alarmingly shocked me to realize today that despite these differences there are some ways in which my kids still need to prove their worth to me.  Once I received this epiphany, via a public breakdown, I vowed to adjust my views once again.  Because even though I choose to do things differently, I'm sometimes the same.  And guess what that's not always bad, but in this case it was.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

What I Want

Many fast food restaurants have catch phrases and some are along the same line.  McDonald's has one that says, "What you want is what you get"  and Burger King offers along similar lines the phrases "Have it your way" and "Your way, right away". 

And after an Ob/Gyn appt/consult today I can't help but think of these mantras.  I was learning more about IUD's as a possible family planning option for me.  And as I learned more about the two different options, Mirena and Paragard, I couldn't help but wonder why can't we take the best aspects from both of these and make them into one stellar option proving that fast food lingo is more than just a jingle to ramp marketing and increase sales. I don't think I am alone her on my desires.  Breaking it down in a good old fashioned pro/con list you've got:

Mirena Pros:
  • light/no period
Paragard Pros:
  • 10 years of protection vs. 5 for Mirena
  • no hormones (on same type note - no chance of munchies or weight gain)
  • less chance/fewer cases of perforation during insertion and overall
  • spouse will be totally unaware during intercourse of it's existance
  • cheaper
You can imagine the Cons, based on the Pros in the list of the opposite option.  And in every aspect one would choose the Paragard, right???  But alas that's not the way it is.  Some is due to marketing and the big push by physicians and pharmaceuticals towards Mirena.  I mean seriously who hasn't seen a Mirena add in every magazine even remotely targeted toward women.  But an even larger part is that lighter period or possibility at no menstruation (20%).  It is the ever elusive golden egg or should I say pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - St. Patty's day is practically around the corner- the bane of every women's daily existence and the annoyance of a large part of the man population swaying women all over the modern world towards the Mirena. 

So I ask you, dear reader, why in the age of space technology, nuclear warfare, thought (brain sensing headband) controlled phone technology can I not have an option that covers both.  Why can't Mirena not be put in place for 10 years, with lower perforation rates, and no chance at spouse discomfort.  I mean I can concede the hormones are necessarily to eliminate the period and I'll even pay the money, even though it's a total rip for that practically perfect technology. 

All this talk of Beyonce's halftime show being a show of feminism and female empowerment and the age of modernism, I'll give it all up, call it a great club booty shake, and take all of that attention focused on finding a doctor, kudos if it's a woman, and develop this technology STAT. 

And last I can't help but think of Wendy's catchphrase, "Where's the Beef?"  Too far, too much.  Yes, I think so.  Sorry.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Addendum to Post About Feminism 1.18.11

Today while at the church library, I walked in to have some copies of choir music made. {No worries I have all the appropriate copyright documentation.} The man behind the counter asked me how many copies I needed made. I told him 16. I asked if he wouldn't mind bringing them to me in the chapel when he was done since it would take some time and I was directing the choir. He said no problem and asked since they were multipaged copies, "Would you like me to staple them for you?" I hmmed for a moment pondering the benefits of stapling vs. loose leaf when he quickly replied "Or not, I know how women now days don't like men to do for them what they can do for themselves."


This just further lends support to my argument that the feminist woman has confused the men around us. And just let me clarify that I would love for a man to do for me what I can do for myself in the name of offering up help or service. Yes Mr. Librarian Man or Resource Center Worker I would love for you to staple my copies [add charming smile and lots of praise]. To which he happily smiled. Men want to help women. It's innate, biologically caveman days driven. And guess what, I want that help. I want to be taken care of, call me a kept woman - I'll take it as a compliment.