(Watch out Quebec: your fertility rate is going up around 10pm on Friday night; but, dear French counterpart, you can relax in the wee hours of Saturday morning when the Silver Bullet will pass speedily into northern New Brunswick.)
So, today I am packing stuff. And it's a snow day. This makes for the following equation:
Me packing stuff + the kids home on a snow day = Me blogging;
or, Me packing stuff + the kids home on a snow day = Me doing laundry, scrubbing toilets, vacuuming carpets while simultaneously trying to prevent the kids from trying to pack their stuff;
where, the kids trying to pack their stuff = kids stuffing random stuff (like three Legos, one cow, a bathtub plug, a pirate earring, a block with a painted J, ten Hardy Boy books and no underwear) into reusable grocery store bags.
where, the kids trying to pack their stuff = kids stuffing random stuff (like three Legos, one cow, a bathtub plug, a pirate earring, a block with a painted J, ten Hardy Boy books and no underwear) into reusable grocery store bags.
Complex mathematics. Good thing both Dave and I took first-year Calculus.
But, amidst this organised chaos my mind is chewing on an acquaintance's blog post on the subject of International Women's Day, March 8th. Is that what it's called?
During my time in university, I remember big efforts on the part of the feminists to celebrate this day. I can't recall what exactly they did as I tried to avoid the Student Union Building on that day. Did they rally around abortion? I don't know. It truthfully wasn't really on my radar at that point. I just knew that, in some inner sanctuary of my under-developed soul, International Women's Day bothered me.
Yesterday I realised that I graduated from university a whopping 12 years ago. Since then, I have had time to think and mature a little and begin to understand why the celebrations on March 8th grated on my nerves.
The biggest reason is that I am not a feminist. Rather, I prefer the title that my parents have christened me and my sisters with: post-feminist. (Between the three of us, two stay-at-home-moms and a religious sister, we have eight children, five university degrees, a violin and a Franciscan habit.) For an exact definition of post-feminist, get yourself invited over to my parents' place on a Saturday night. They will explain the title and my mother will probably serve something really tasty. Two birds with one stone.
You see, I don't think that we have really achieved that much since the dawn of the women's movement. Sure, great strides have been made in certain areas; however, I think that many of these strides have been counter-balanced by a different sort of female oppression. We're still largely viewed as sexual objects, folks. And young girls by the thousands seem to know no more than how to dress to attract sexual attention. La Senza for tweens is a hit and bras now come in more colours than those that were once burned by our feminist forebears.
Is Lady Gaga progress?
Birth control and easy access to abortion have done nothing to remedy sexual exploitation. If anything, they have made things gravely worse by removing all natural consequences to our actions. Is the Birth Control pill really freeing or does it just make women sexually available around the clock?
The other thing is this: during my brief foray into Facebook I posted pictures of my four children. (My Facebook relationship ended shortly after Isaac.) An old friend from highschool who was about to deliver her first child commented on my photos.
"Wow. I imagine that I too will soon be daily feeling incredible satisfaction from being a mother. You must feel so satisfied by your children."
I laughed when I read that.
Most days I feel pretty tired. Joyful, yes. Sorrowful, yes. On the point of death, at times. Like I could do four more kids, talk to Dave. My emotions run the full gamut when it comes to being a young mother. But the last thing that I feel is satisfied by my kids. And, truthfully, I think that looking for satisfaction in motherhood is a heavy burden to place on one's children.
Because they ain't going to deliver; and they shouldn't have to.
Many will agree that the feminist movement pushed women out of the home and into the workplace where they would supposedly find that satisfaction that had "so far" eluded them. (Actually, I have no idea how the women of a few generations ago felt and I don't purport to paint them all with the same brush of disillusionment and ennui drowned in four-o'clock martinis.)
Working moms of my generation are quick to admit that the home-work balance is a killer and they can't figure out where they belong. And I am not trying to tell them to get out of the workplace and into the home. No, I am merely trying to illustrate that that satisfaction isn't found by escaping one's children and using one's university degree for pay.
My point is this: that satisfaction is not to be found in the home nor the workplace. I have found it at home but it's not raising kids or homemaking that have provided the deep joy, the rest, the satisfaction.
It's God.
St. Augustine said "Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee, O God."
I haven't read St. Augustine extensively, but I do believe that the following quotes can not be found within any of his writings:
"Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee, O children of mine."
or, "Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee, O workplace."
Neither will satisfy. Only God can do that. Only God can still the inner turmoil, the anxieties, the guilt, the shame, the what-ifs, the envy, the jealousy, the everything. Only God can provide peace while four kids are throwing up and one is calling for a wipe. Only God can give rest when the boss is a tyrant and you want to cry because you feel torn between work and home.
Only God.
So, look for Him. He is there to be found and He can satisfy.
I wish that we would celebrate that on March 8th.
(He can also help me pack; or, at least show me where to begin. And that's what I have to do now. Pray for our travels: New Brunswick can be nasty.)
9 comments:
This is a fantastic post. I really needed to hear this today, thank you! Oh, and Nova Scotia will be very glad to have you and your lovely family!!!! :)
katie, thank you so much. it is always great to hear encouragement when i write a bit more of a raw post. you are doing a fabulous job with those little girls. thank you for reading.
This is such a lovely post. I'm really glad you shared your thoughts on this with us.
I hope our paths cross while you're in town. If not, we'll see you in Barry's Bay sometime this summer.
Great post Elena! I love when you post deep things like this. Most of what I read about the so-called International Women's Day this week was a lot of blah-blah-blah. This was a breath of fresh air. "Only God.". Amen, sister.
Have a safe and happy trip! We're heading to BB on Monday to see our girl. :)
By the way, I finally started "One Thousand Gifts" and can hardly put it down. Thanks for pointing me in the direction of A Holy Experience!
You so often articulate things that rattle wordlessly around in my head. Thanks for pointing out exactly why it's okay that my kids don't *satisfy* me, even in spite of all the joy and growth they provide me with.
Safe - and sane - travels. Say hello to your parents for me.
Thank you so much for writing this!
So much of what you said and your sentiments were exactly what I feel as well...but of course a post like that on my blog just wouldn't work right now. When I look around at so many little girls these days, or walk into any clothing store with children's attire, I often think about feminism and how if we've supposedly come so far, why are sex symbols like Hannah Montana plastered all over the clothing? Why the pressure for little girls to conform to this rock star image which has nothing to do with who they are and is fueled by the evils of consumerism?
You are right about the women's movement, and I join the ranks of post-feminist right along with you. Nobody is responsible for making us happy...not our husbands, or a job, or our kids. God alone. God alone. God alone.
Thanks for the reminder. I hope you have a wonderful trip, once you recover from the travels...
Be well my friend.
As the sole voice of the (male)oppressor to be registered here, let me say, I too enjoyed this post!
We'll miss you guys this week!
Thanks for your thoughts, Elena! As one of the early post-feminists, I entered the work-force armed with one BMath degree and ended up self-employed before our first son was born. The intention?: to work part-time once the children were old enough. I heard it all . . . "wasting my degree at home" being prevalent. So much for "freedom"; feminists couldn't understand my free choice to be a stay-at-home mom.
The children never did get "old enough" for me to "go back to work"; we home-schooled them and as they were finishing high school I returned to the classroom as a student of theology. Now, 4 more degrees later I am finishing my doctoral thesis.
In the meantime, my teaching plans evolved . . . no BEd (my plan with that BMath), but much teaching in many contexts: home, community volunteer groups, parish, university, . . .
Post-feminists I know depend on God in whatever context he chooses for them! You have mastered the art of listening for him in the day-to-day and your willingness to share that listening enlightens us all; thank you!
Safe travels and happy visiting with family and friends.
back when i worked at utt, i often wished i were at home. now that i am home, i *never* wish to be at work. (though i occasionally wish my husband were home! or, that i were asleep.)
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