mothering in the time of comedy

For me the epitome of cheesy romantic comedies is a tie--"You've Got Mail" and "Someone Like You". The same drawbacks exist in both, however--the incessant need to pair off. As though you're not a whole person (and women can never be whole, right?) until you've got someone. Preferably a man.

And the paths to "pairing" are so well-worn: there's the "only the love of a good woman/man can settle him/her down". Yes, as though love were dog training. There's the fiercely independent woman who, it turns out, isn't independent at all, she's just waiting for the right man to make her happy so, thank god, she no longer HAS TO BE HER OWN PERSON.

All that aside, I am interested in seeing the movie "No Reservations" after reading this review in the New York Times.

And here's why:

Modern Hollywood movies often genuflect toward feminism while implying that a woman isn’t truly a woman until she has gratefully surrendered to motherhood. While watching “No Reservations” you keep waiting for the other high-heeled shoe to drop, but it never really does. The director, Scott Hicks (“Shine”), and the screenwriter, Carol Fuchs, respect Kate’s ambition, skill and drive. Throughout, they imply that Kate’s biggest hurdle isn’t a lack of aptitude for motherhood but her credulous acceptance of society’s one-size-fits-all definition of good parents.

Finally! I am hoping this movie lives up to the promise of not making us fall in love with this talented, successful woman only to watch her give her life up to take care of her niece when the epiphany comes to her that the only worthwhile thing in life is having children. Of course I am biased on my own end--I would be a totally different woman without Evie. On the other hand, I try very hard to be a model for her--of a woman who had a whole separate life before the baby, and who resumed that life after the baby. I never wanted to say to her--"Well, Mommy used to write....Mommy used to enjoy art...." so why can't I find any movies for myself (and one day Evie) to watch with the same message?

Uggh. My shoulders hurt from typing too violently.

this is making me laugh

i can't stop laughing

holy shit, this is hilarious. no, it's not that "landlord" skit; it's an article from cnn.com. election-related, of course. read this little gem from rudy guilani, and then think back: remember when rudy left his wife for his mistress? hmm. so, for those of us keeping "moral score": sleeping with a woman other than your wife = okay, unless she is a prostitute. oh, i need a glass of water after all this.

as though i were really in the movie tombstone

the scene where wyatt tells the cowboys,
"i want you to know that it's over"--

that's my life now. again, really.

we are "going our separate ways".

i wish we'd have been married, so i could explain the feeling by saying "i am going thru a very painful divorce". that has much more power than "oh, it was a hard breakup".

if i call any of you for a beer night soon, you'll know why.

list

things I’ve made for dinner this week:

three-bell pepper stir fry with sesame oil sautéed wheat berries
veggie sloppy joes with TVP and bulgur
shrimp tacos
giant green salad and veggie burgers

great events of the past week:

Brent gets a call from a scout for the Braves.
Anthony sends Zelda and I Mother’s Day roses.
Justin Verlander pitches the no-no on Tuesday…and bonus, Mom, Dad and Christian were there.
Evie’s first visit to the beach on Saturday.
clothing swap with Becky, Michelle, Randi and Jen S. great great fun.

what I am looking forward to:

fresh herbs from the garden (I will have to wait a few weeks for them).
Amanda and Mike’s wedding.
a phone call from my little brother in Germany.
talk of the nation on NPR.

the plan for the day:

cleaning of the house…fun. seriously.
swimming in the pool.
dinner.
finishing “the crying of lot 49”.
starting a new book!

that is all for now, pals

while daddy's away...

jeremy was gone on business (doesn't that sound so grown up? we are getting old, folks) evie and i went to my parents' house for a few days. well, it was supposed to be only a few days, but then the entire household was struck by the most devastating stomach flu i have ever encountered. first christian on sunday (tho we thought he was reacting to an accidental overdose of some medicine). then mom on tuesday, rj wednesday morning, and evie, dad and i wednesday night. as we had left lansing monday night, my lovely and amazing friends continued to stop in on beans until friday afternoon, allowing evie and i to recover at ma and pa's house of healing.

*gross alert*

i am famous (in our family) for being the child making giant puke messes. fitting then, that evie began getting sick just before me. and being that i absolutely HATE to vomit, i am cleaning her up, holding her over whatever available recepticle i can find, all while trying to control my own growing nausea. at one point, somewhere between two and three am, i am in the bathroom with evie. she is vomiting into the sink, i am holding her, and calling to my mom to hold her so i can go vomit in the toilet. (god is funny--i didn't start getting that sick until 4 am). that's right, three generations in the bathroom, but only two of us ill. my mom rules. meanwhile, i'm trying to (unsuccessfully) to get it done and over with, and evie (who is fine for the moment and chipper as all hell) stands next to me, holds my hair, and says, "it's ok, mommy. your body will tell you when to do it, then you open your mouth and spit. ok, do it." ha! of course, that is what i'd told her earlier...sweetest, funniest child.

(end gross alert)

after recovering, we came home friday, to find that beans had gotten hold of the sunday new york times. see for yourself:






suffice to say, my parents and friends are amazing, and fun times were had by all!

potty training tips

don't let your man-wife pee standing up in front of the potty-training child, especially is said child is a girl.

i have cleaned the bathroom floor probably 300 times in the past 2 months.

no wonder i am so achy!

see what I mean about bob dylan and johnny cash?

FOR THE MAN I LOVED, WHO WAS SO OFTEN SILENT

I have always heard that women fall in love
with men who are like their fathers:

my father sings to me, old Johnny Cash and
Marty Robbins--out in the West Texas town
of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl, and you
who couldn't even remember my whole last name,

who played Bob Dylan records at night to hush the speech
of the bed, and me timing out the pregnancy test to
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue. I never told you
this--something lovers, fathers,
lovers who are already fathers
do not want to hear.

You were silent mornings when I was waking, the alarm
shut off before its eruption, no sound but the mumbling
of the sheets when you pulled me, hands clutched into ribs,
onto you. The white noise of dressing sometime later.

If I had spoken, I'd have told you I loved you.

But you were not my father, you who made no sounds
as you went, nothing from your mouth but breathing,
the stairs wordless, no apology from the back door.

I know. I was listening.