Being a Stay At Home Mom

I really dislike being dependent.

At age 12, I started really resenting the fact that I was so dependent on my parents. I wanted to be as independent as possible, but became surly over the fact that I couldn't drive, couldn't live on my own, couldn't be hired to work, etc... As a homeschooler, I was already pretty much in charge of my own education, or at least I wasn't being micromanaged when it came to school. That responsibility made me happy. I just wished I could be entrusted with more decisions in my own life. This attitude lasted all through high school up until I moved out of my parent's house.

Now, I'm facing the same sort of resentment, and I'm really trying not to let it get to me. I'm a stay-at-home mom, which means I'm depending on my husband to provide financially for me while he is depending on me to watch our son, farm, and house.

I love being a stay-at-home mom! I love the independence that comes from setting my own hours, work schedule, and pace. I love the feeling of accomplishment when I get a big project done despite a toddler running around and trying to ruin my efforts, and I love the flexibility of being able to take a trip to the grocery store or library on MY schedule. When I worked outside the home, I was miserable. I was micromanaged and I didn't get along well with my managers. I thought I did a good job and I certainly wasn't slacking, but I felt constantly watched, criticized, and judged. Often, I felt like expectations weren't clear and I therefore couldn't live up to them. Being a stay-at-home mom is a lot like homeschooling, I can get what I need to get done and not worry about the things that inevitably don't get done.

However, I really dislike the fact that I don't get paid for it! It rubs me the wrong way to have to ask my husband to pay for something. I hate asking for "his money" and I hate just taking "his money." And he hates it too! I know he feels like he has to constantly evaluate my purchases because he doesn't trust me to spend his money wisely. It's a big fat thorn in my dream job. And I'm not sure how to fix it, either. Hopefully, the farm will become prosperous enough to provide me with a little money of my own. Or, after the kids have grown a little, I could get a part time job or a home-based business. Or, my husband could just learn to TRUST me with OUR money... but I'm not sure if that will ever happen.

Evening Loneliness

For some reason, lately in the evenings after I put my son to bed, I've been hit with a pretty substantial bout of loneliness. Sometimes I'll cuddle with my husband, but I still feel lonely. Intimacy doesn't quite seem as intimate as I would like, these days. I'm not sure what to do about it, because we have a great relationship with a good deal of cuddling, sex, and just playing around. He definitely does need his alone time, and with a demanding toddler, husband, and animals I should really be relishing my alone time as well. I just seem to crave something else.

Perhaps female companionship. I haven't really been tight with my friends lately. I can't ever find someone who I really connect with. But I lack the energy to drive somewhere and go "out" although it's probably what I need.

Hmmm.

Autumn

Set on fire, her dress rustles in the wind, the color of a brilliant sunset. Bold brazen red, inviting a kiss, painted on her lips. Her sister waits, a sensual tugging of her leaves, tiger-orange, painting stripes as she flutters coyly.

Next to her, in honey-gold, a sweet, demure promise whispers through the gathering. Branches blossoming with majestic jewelry, she flicks her wrist, her arm-bands glinting with the color of the sun... reflected, and mirrored, on her slender arms.

Standing in the back, a little shyly, young and modest, her gown remains a cool shade of green, brown tinting the edges, waving hesitently, eagerly. She waits, coloring the shadows with her rosy blush.

They laugh, a soft, whispery laugh, voices joined together by the chill wind, enlivening their dance. A ballroom, regal gowns and fluttering jewelry. Dressed in their finest, a marvelous celebration. Time to change, the sun is setting. Time to change, put down your pitchfork. Time to change, time to play.

She unfastens her necklace, throws it on the ground. Flutter, a brilliant streak of red, then brown. She casts off her jewelry, a brilliant sunset melting beyond the horizon. Gleefully, she tosses aside her golden yellow scarf, her bonfire-inspiring dress. The dance floor becomes a bed, filled with bright metallic gowns, shadowy green and brown undergarments. Wild abandon, they dance in the rush of the wind, the stark blue chill of the sky, naked branches lovely and vulnerable.

Naked, they celebrate. Finery forgotten, they sway to their own music, waving their naked limbs with carefree joy. A shiver in the cold, a titillating laugh stretching from root to tip. Nude, rough skin becoming one with the earth, settling into the background, drifting off into slumber. Time to change, come play with us, in the beautiful dance of Autumn.

You Can Be Anything You Want

http://www.snopes.com/politics/obama/photos/derrieres.asp

This makes me mad. Angry. Fuming. When I first read that, I said "WTF?" in a loud, angry voice.

In case the link doesn't work or something, the gist of it is that someone supposedly took a picture of the backsides of Princess Letizia, First Lady of France Carla Bruni, and Michelle Obama as they were going up the stairs. The supposed Michelle Obama is a fake picture, but the premise is that the first two ladies had supermodel backsides, luxurious hair, and fashionable clothing, whereas Mrs. Obama looked frumpy. The words heading the picture were, "makes you proud, doesn't it?"

First of all, WTF?? OK now, let's analyze that statement and the picture. Apparently a country can only be proud of its female leaders if they look and dress like models? What about what these women stand up for? What about their intelligence, common sense, and practicality as leaders of your friggin country? I would, in fact, love a leader who didn't spend all her money on plastic surgery and designer clothing! To me, "frivolous spending" isn't a great motto to have while running a country. Maybe that's just me, though.

Or is the assumption that these women don't actually run the country? That their husbands or fathers are the ones actually running the country and these women have the job of maintaining a good public image and they don't actually do any real work? Hmmmm. Nnnnnnope, doesn't make me any less angry.

When we are little we are told "you can be anything you want to be." But this is a flat out lie. Women can be anything we want to be... as long as we look good doing it. If we are decidedly below average-looking, we get no respect. The only women men respect are both skilled and drop dead gorgeous. Gain a few pounds, or have the unhappy chance of being born with too big of a nose, and you are out of the running. You might get by with a decent job, but no one thinks you really deserve it. They would be much happier if a blonde bombshell took your position, even if you worked harder for it or are better at the actual job.

Let's face it. Women are always judged first on attractiveness, then on whatever other qualities they might possess. (Even by other women.) It's the symptom of a shallow society filled with shallow minds. Next time you look at an unattractive woman, refrain from thinking about her unattractiveness. Instead, try to see the beauty of her mind, her attitude, or her kindness.

Imaginary

The swirling colors radiate,

in their minds, young and open

Flowers dancing, blown about

on imaginary winds

Conjuring blue and yellow and forest green

When she sees only shade and shadow

or nothing at all

The dust of neglect,

the stink of old food

Hidden in cracks and crevices

that, to them, are canyons and caves

And unexplored wonders

Enmeshed in dreams,

seeking visions and adventure

The sofa becomes a mountain,

under rugs are hidden buried treasure

Walls are prison cages

and doors are meant to be flung wide

To the depths of the sunlight

weaving in and out between panes of glass

Unseen by a mother's eyes

as she simply closes the curtains

and hushes the children

Never knowing, in her stubborn grasp of reality

that it requires more imagination

to deny the dreams

than to embrace them.

Lady of Merciful Death

The wind blows strongly today, sweeping the pasture like a firm, persistent broom. It rattles the door to the barn, which creaks and groans in protest, the door to the window freely opening and closing in response to its insistent whisper. It flattens the grass, heavy with seed, and bends the tree branches, rattling the brittle wood like bones and catching the dying leaves, brushing them off the tree without afterthought.

With a heaviness, I walk toward the barn, resigning myself to what I might find.

For the last couple of days, a kitten has been slowly dying from "the sickness." A pretty little calico, who used to seem so strong and healthy, (and whom my stepdaughter named "Curious") suddenly stopped eating a couple days ago, and spent her time wandering around, mewing in frustration. Dismayed, I tried feeding her goats milk and re-uniting her with her mom, hoping she would start eating again. No, she wouldn't eat, or snuggle with her brother and sister and mother. Over the next couple of days she grew weaker, and her eyes became goopy and swollen shut with telltale signs of "the sickness". Yesterday, she could barely move her legs. I hoped she would die peacefully in her sleep in the night, and it seemed as if she had as I walked into the barn this morning, milk bucket in hand. Her limp little body lay outstretched and still, and I was glad that she had passed sooner rather than later.

Instead, about halfway through the milking, she woke up and started mewling pathetically in response to my voice. (I was yelling at the goats, as I usually do at milking-time.) I could plainly see that she was dying, and I remembered her brother, who had taken 3 days to die from "the sickness," once he had become too weak to move. He hadn't cried, however, just slept and waited to die. This little kitten was crying, the cry of a baby who expects you to do something about her problems. She couldn't move her body, just her head, which swung around as she yelled out, demanding some relief.

I did the only thing I could do for her. I "helped" her die, and then took her over to the "graveyard" behind the barn and laid her down by her brother. I wished it could have been less violent, quicker, less painful, even though I know that I did the best I could, and that crushing her head under a cement block was a much less painful way to go than lying in the barn for another day or two, crying for help and having no one answer. I fantasized about learning a secret way to simply sing an animal to sleep and then wait for it to pass peacefully, but death is not that simple.

The wind rustled the tiny body's fur, caressing it gently, as I stood guard while the soul fled, leaving behind a sad remnant of her long struggle, now lying in the midst of a grove of sumacs.

Sometimes killing is cruel, sometimes necessary, sometimes, in this case, a responsibility. In autumn, the wind comes, bringing a crisp refreshing chill, bringing the weight and responsibility of death to the farmer. Crops, carefully nurtured throughout the summer, must be harvested. Robust, happy animals must be slaughtered. Death is a word whispered on the breeze, hanging over the earth, which waits hungrily for its chance to feed on the dead. The Lady of the Dead makes her appearance, resigned, patient, merciful, with the weight of Life and Death on her shoulders. She and I share the same spirit, both standing in mourning over a garden of life that must too quickly wither, wielding the same sickle, the harvest weapon, waiting for the next red leaf to wither and the next small candle to flicker out.

Religious Pervasiveness

So far, I don't really belong to any religion. I consider myself "Pagan," because that's a nice, oblique term. "Pagans" aren't affiliated with any church, so I don't have to constantly defend the actions of some institution. It's not affiliated with any specific culture, so I don't have to follow the rules and traditions of that culture. It's not specific enough to include dogma, but it's specific enough to separate me from the Abrahamic religions. Basically, if the term was defined as "I believe what I believe, so just ask me if you want to know something specific, if not leave me in peace," then that would be OK with me.

But, I am glad, in a way, that a Pagan religion is not the dominant religion in America. (Examples of Pagan religions include Wicca, Asatru, Druidism, Ancient Greek Religion, etc...) If they were, they would probably be exploited by our corporate and political forces, and completely changed to fit the people-in-power's agenda.

Look at the Ancient Greek religion. It was usurped and changed by Roman leaders and turned into a justification for immorality, especially in government.

Look at the way Christianity is used by Americans to justify our own selfish point of view. How is Christianity used by the far right to justify the accumulation of wealth when the Bible clearly states that it's easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven? How did "turn the other cheek" become "nuke the middle east?" I remember when WWJD bracelets were trendy... but who among us actually acts like Jesus? Christianity has thrived within our consumerist nation, infiltrating merchandise, reality T.V. shows, pop culture, and especially political media! The Christian "message" seems to be "conform." What ever happened to "love thy neighbor?" Doesn't really fit in today's so-called "Christian" culture. And of course I'm not even getting into all the prejudices and atrocities done in the name of Christ.

So, what would happen if the majority of people abandoned Christianity in favor of a minority religion like Wicca? Well, Wicca is normally about caring for the Earth, doing no harm to others, and celebrating the cycle of life. However, if the people in power embraced Wicca, all sorts of evil could be justified under that religion. Hoarding wealth could be justified by saying the equivalent of "my magic is more powerful than yours." Racism and intolerance could still be justified by saying we are "weeding out ignorance." Either men or women could be viewed as inferior- Wicca made popular could very well escalate the gender wars instead of eliminating it!

Something that I've observed by living on a farm... often a weak animal is picked on and ostracized. Maybe it's young and inexperienced and physically weaker than an animal in their prime of life. However, the "bully" gets sick or old or weakened somehow, and then the weak animal becomes the strong. However, instead of remembering how it felt to be picked on, it will instead become an even bigger bully than the first bully, and pick on anyone weaker than itself. It's a hard lesson to learn, but sometimes it's better NOT to be in a position of power! I hear things like "if only America embraced the ideals of (insert philosophy or religion here) then we would have a better world!" I'm sorry, but I can't share your idealism. The hard truth is, that assholes will still act like assholes, no matter what label they say they embrace. After all, Christianity USED to be a minority religion, and under persecution character was formed. However, now that Christianity is pervasive, it has become the weak animal who became strong and bullied everyone else.

Unless we can learn from the past and learn to change ourselves to build better character, (instead of merely using a certain mindset to justify ourselves) then the world will never improve, no matter if we are Christian or Wiccan, Communist or Capitalist. If you are in a majority religion, take a good look at what your religion teaches and the life that you are living, and see whether or not you're just using your religion to get what you want. If you are in a minority religion, don't ever assume that more power or more press will mean a better life for you- it won't. Remember what it feels like to be oppressed and apply a better morality to those whom you have power over.