philosophy at age eight


“If you cannot control your peanut butter, you cannot expect to control your life.”
~ Judah-ism

Sunday, January 29, 2012

who's yer daddy?

Lucifurr the kitten came to the family about 6 months ago. Not long after, we discovered her intense attachment to a sheepskin pillow my mother has given me -- as soon as we put her near it, she begins to purr madly and knead at a particular spot, burying her nose into it. Here's a video I shot of this early on:


Luci still sleeps on Momma every night, like clockwork, six months later.  

Then last night, as we sat watching a show together, I noticed that Luci had sprawled atop the massage pillow that John had bought me for Christmas. I reached over and pushed "on". 

"Who's yer daddy?!"

Thursday, January 5, 2012

you gotta love male logic

Excerpt from The Cult of True Womanhood:  1820-60
by Barbara Welter

The Ladies' Wreath offered a fifty-dollar prize to the woman who submitted the most convincing essay on "How May An American Woman Best Show Her Patriotism." The winner was Miss Elizabeth Wetherell who provided herself with a husband in her answer. The wife in the essay of course asked her husband's opinion. He tried a few jokes first- "Call her eldest son George Washington," "Don't speak French, speak American"-but then got down to telling her in sober prize-winning truth what women could do for their country. Voting was no asset, since that would result only in "a vast increase of confusion and expense without in the smallest degree affecting the. result." Besides, continued this oracle, "looking down at their child," if "we were to go a step further and let the children vote, their first act would be to vote their mothers at home." There is no comment on this devastating male logic and he continues: "Most women would follow the lead of their fathers and husbands," and the few who would "fly off on a tangent from the circle of home influence would cancel each other out."

The wife responds dutifully: "I see all that. I never understood so well before." Encouraged by her quick womanly perception, the master of the house resolves the question-an American woman best shows her patriotism by staying at home, where she brings her influence to bear "upon the right side for the country's weal." That woman will instinctively choose the side of right he has no doubt. Besides her "natural refinement and closeness to God" she has the "blessed advantage of a quiet life" while man is exposed to conflict and evil. She stays home with "her Bible and a well-balanced mind" and raises her sons to be good Americans. The judges rejoiced in this conclusion and paid the prize money cheerfully, remarking "they deemed it cheap at the price."
Emphasis mine
Thanks, Lydia, for bringing this fascinating article to my attention.

Source: American Quarterly, Vol. 18, No. 2, Part 1 (Summer, 1966), pp. 151-174
Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press

Saturday, December 31, 2011

the jaunty knight

I commissioned my first piece of original art on Christmas this year.

My son Jude

This awesomely imaginative and spot-on piece was created by Betsey (link to her stuff to follow shortly). I've commissioned her to do one of each of us in the family, now.  I love how she caught his "flowing locks" (don't ask), his mis-matched swords he's never without, and his jaunty stance. At age 15, he still bitterly resents the fact that Heelies don't come in men's size 10, and will wear drag or a jester outfit on a public bus without batting an eyelash. 

4-year-old pic, but he hasn't changed a wit

Betsey's such a consumate artist -- you'll always find her with some form of a pen in hand, be in digital or analog. I even have a picture of her, intently drawing on the floor of a live concert (JoCo FTW).  I believe the picture eventually ended up on stage... 


That's all, folks.

Or, as Jude would say, "beeeawwwwh."

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

black and white and spazz all over

Luci(furr) joined us about two months ago, or thereabouts, and she's at least doubled in size. She's probably 4 or 5 months old, and rules the roost. I think I put a couple of my indecision rants here about whether or not we'd get another cat after the difficult loss of Koomyn.  But she sort of fell into our laps, much like every other cat we've ever had, and we lost the desire to say no within hours of her presence.

video

too cuuuute

Saturday, October 8, 2011

teaching past "gender"

Son, on how he can have babies~ Age 7
"Okay, I'm half you and half dad. And when an adult male sexes with an adult female, then the baby's half me and half her."

Simple. Too simple.

Crafting the perfect pregnant woman
shell for her brother
I dreamed about how life would be between myself and my child when I was pregnant, but it was the first time I caught myself saying or doing the things I hated most as a child that I had to sit down and truly consider what sort of parent I wanted to be. No, what kind of child I wanted to raise, rather. Left in passive mode, I realized that I would simply become my mother, with a lot of my father mixed in for good measure. Was this what I wanted?

To understand what my children are thinking and feeling, as completely different people than I, I can only compare what they’re experiencing to my own childhood and try to analyze whether I think my own experience on such subject created positive, or negative, responses to this day in myself. But in this method there is a flaw, which is that in parenting reactively to my own upbringing–and trying to be the opposite on issues that I feel affected my own upbringing negatively–I still don't address what made me grow up inclined to be the "opposite" of what my parents wanted for me.

The quandary comes into play in trying to find the balance between raising a daughter who knows without a doubt her own worth–by reiterating this point in as many ways possible–and raising a daughter who then sets out to be as different from you as she can. What’s making the point, and then what’s belaboring the point? When I think back, I realize most of my unconscious social construction was taught by example, rather than words, while the conscious construction is always under construction, thank you very much.

Words are dismissible. Learned behavior is much, much harder to shed.

“Did I put too much love in that hug?” 
Son, after finally releasing me from a long hug that included hanging on me and sound-effects ~ Age 7

Johnny is dungeon master for the kids
and their cousins
I eventually had a daughter, and a son. And it took time for me, years actually, to be able to set off the idea that I was a bad human being for behaving as though my own needs were equally important as my family’s needs. But to raise a daughter who has no question of her own worth, I decided that I must be an example of it. As a woman who constantly struggles to believe in her own worth, this is the role of a lifetime. It began with trying to weed out my own destructive behaviors and self-hating thought processes, so that I wouldn’t unknowingly pass them on to her, or my son.

I despair sometimes, thinking about how partially effective I may be:  does that mean my daughter will only partially believe in her own worth, and should she succeed in instilling in her daughter a little more self-worth than she has, then can I expect to have a great-granddaughter or two who truly believe in their own inherent self-worth? I want to succeed in this so badly:  the thought of my own daughter struggling as I do infuriates me. Because I believe it would be a personal failure should I not be a true reflection of her awesome little self. When she looks in my eyes, I want her to see complete belief and acceptance, and I fear that with all the personal issues I struggle with, that what she sees reflected is instead my own doubt.

Example is damned hard to fake.

John, amused: “Get some pants or shorts on, boy.”  
Son: “Why?”  
John: “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  
Son, in complete seriousness: “I like my body.” ~ Age 6


Son rather impatiently suffering
to be dressed as a girl by
his sister.
The topknot really
didn't impress him.
Raising a son is an equal quandary:  less example, and more words. My partner works closely with me to be his example, but I find that as his mother, for the most part, I am here to challenge him when he appears to accept without question all the world wants to lay at his feet.

All I can do is challenge his assumptions, and encourage him to actually think about what he’s saying, and attempt to justify it. Can he, or is he just aping something he’s seen? Between John and my needling that he not accept everything he hears blindly but that he must be able to identify justification, and John's atypical social example as a man who stays home with the children while I work outside the home, we hope to see him and his sister develop into people who thinks for themselves.

Friday, September 16, 2011

vacationing in victoria, bc

So clearly, I made it back safely from my weekend in Canada. No pictures of tyrannical border police necessary, no weeping plea to just "let me see my family one last time!" Tee-hee. In fact, the inspector at the end of a really tedious line barely blinked at my temporary paper version for my new Enhanced Drivers License

But I'm still glad I took my camera, because I got some great pictures I'll share here.

See the rainbow in the wake of the Clipper?
We had gorgeous weather the whole time
L. wanted to see Miniature World. Apparently this is a famous attraction.
There was this miniature, working version of an old time-y sawmill.
However, regulations prohibits them from actually running
the sawmill, so there was a video... of them running the sawmill.
Hilarious.
See inside the white building? That's me. :) Taking a picture of me.
I'm kinda nerdy that way.
We found a great sidewalk artist around Murchies...
This 3-D goblin crawling out of the ground was
old and the leaves kind of kill the illusion, but
he did a great job

Another of his works
For the second time in a row, I found the fattest cat imaginable
in Victoria's Chinatown shops. I wonder if he can walk.

Found Murchies again... love this old coffee/tea shop!
Inside Murchies
Shameless beggar outside Murchies.  There were several of
them; smarties probably ate quite well.

new family member