Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Scratching What Doesn't Itch

I went to work with the question of luxury in mind - what can I do (and enjoy) at work that I can't do at home?

Things I Can Do at Work

-Eat a meal without two open mouths begging from the floor.
-Go to the bathroom in total privacy. And I do mean total privacy - not even one person tried to get in there with me.
-Do one thing at a time - much less multitasking.
-Think grown-up thoughts for long periods of time, like "do men's and women's spiritual journeys really differ?" or "Do I really appreciate Augustine, or have I been appreciating him just to fit in with the crowd?"
-Set paper on the floor and it remains there undisturbed.
-Leave the office with the confidence that when I get there next, things will be where I left them.
-Not lift people.
-Not clean poo out of the swimming pool and off the boys who were in the pool. (Today was James' turn for this adventure; mine was yesterday).

Problem is, none of these things are luxuries for me. I can think big thoughts during naptimes, and, really, if you can't share a bathroom with someone you love, then what is intimacy about? Being with my family is better than not being with my family, the vast majority of the time. I need help and I need breaks, but I don't need hours and hours away from my boys. The real truth about work is that it's good for two things, and at this point, I wouldn't even try to prioritize one over the other.

1. I get paid money to do it.

2. I get to make a difference in the world. I believe the household is not large enough to contain a woman's giftedness (or a man's, but no one argues that point). God gave us gifts with which to raise our families, steward the earth, and bless the world. When reduced to our households, women implode with destructive energy, fritter away their lives decorating shit, or idolize their children and submit their gifts, their vision, and their energy to kids instead of to God. (Please don't misread this as a working v. stay-at-home argument, which it isn't. It makes an idol of capitalism to make paid employment the fulcrum point of the discussion.)

Now, if it came down to it, I would sacrifice my work for my kids. I don't plan to work long hours, do extra work, or advance my career by leaps and bounds -- I don't plan to do that ever, but especially not while they're young. They come first, but it seems like most days, putting them first doesn't need to mean erasing everything else from the slate. I believe that by doing meaningful work, my family is drawn into the larger human family, and my boys are drawn into the larger Christian family, and they see how they fit into something larger than themselves. They're super-important, but as part of the mix in a big world, not as the still center around which all else revolves.

Blah blah blah. It feels self-righteous to try to put these things into words. Let's just say that today I wasn't impressed with the so-called luxuries of the workplace. I'd prefer a hug from a boy who smells like cheese.

10 Comments:

  • Thanks for the perspective. I am about to be a father myself within the next month (very excited, by the way), and it is good to hear a perspective about work and home that I struggle with. Had I my druthers, I would be a stay-at-home-mom....er....dad. I am so excited about my little girl-to-be that I can't imagine having to go and have "intellectual" time at work. Unfortunatly, having kids doesn't pay well enough to do it full time. Maybe someday I'll figure out a way to work that. For now, I'll just do what I can.

    By Blogger skip, at 10:53 PM  

  • I agree with you almost 100%. But I still think that privacy is an underappreciated luxury.

    Thank you for this post.

    By Blogger Robin M., at 1:47 AM  

  • it took me a whole book to say what you said in two paragraphs. You are so good at this.

    By Anonymous carla, at 2:39 AM  

  • Robin, my kids don't walk yet, so their intrusions are cute crawlings into the bathroom. I suspect it becomes a bigger issue when they're walking, turning doorknobs, and talking.

    Carla, you are very good at writing compliments. I meant to write, but forgot to, the opposite of what you mentioned yesterday. I'm not always home when I'm home, because I carry around my ideas, writings, and curriculum in my head. Protecting the boundaries of 'home' is an issue even though I have an off-site office. I am able, however, to work when I'm at work, which allows me to get so much done that it's easier to be home when I'm home.

    And Jack (and all), all we need to do is figure out how to get kids to pay for their own care. There's got to be a way.

    By Blogger Jenell, at 9:35 AM  

  • Jenell - this is exactly the perspective I've held for the past 7 years. Thanks for articulating it so well. Because I think this way I have done a lot of ministry work during those years (all, unfortunately, volunteer. Why is it that I can't find a way to get paid for raising my children well and loving others well?).

    It is so important for me to continue to use the gifts of teaching and understanding systems and loving others well that God has given me. But it is also important for my girls to see me using these gifts and giving to others outside of our home.

    This past spring and summer they have been involved in some of the work I have done and that has been a blessing as well. It has been teaching them about giving of themselves in ways that allow others to be the center.

    And you know, every time I get a whole day to myself (rare though it is) I usually miss them all so much I come home early. I mean it. Everytime.

    By Blogger Tonya, at 7:49 PM  

  • On a practical note, our local health club sells "pool pants" for young children, without which they're not allowed in the pool for parent & tot swim times. It might be worth investigating getting a couple of pairs for the boys to save you & James some time, at the very least :)

    Dana

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 7:54 PM  

  • Yes, today we had to have a discussion about when it is appropriate to interrupt mommy in the shower and when it is not.

    Example of okay: Mommy? S. fell off the couch and he needs ice.

    Example of not: Mommy? I want to visit a meteor crater.

    By Blogger Robin M., at 10:33 PM  

  • I've found that sometimes there's only one chance to visit a meteor crater.

    By Blogger Jenell, at 4:28 PM  

  • You might be right about that. I just hope that my one opportunity doesn't come while I'm in the shower. :)

    If you ever figure out how to get kids to pay for their own care, do put out a press release. You could make a fortune. In the meantime, I'm working on considering parenting as a vocation.

    By Blogger Robin M., at 6:44 PM  

  • A couple of weeks later and a bit off topic:

    I miss you!! When are you coming back?

    By Blogger A. Borealis, at 2:50 PM  

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Monday, August 21, 2006

I Heart Stinky

My office smells like nothing. I worked for several hours yesterday, unpacking books in my new office. When I got home, just breathing nearly made me cry. A bleachy clean diaper smell, the slightest undercurrent of the morning's poo wafting from the enclosed nursery, and all overlayed with the smell of warmth. Cutting through the middle of that was hot garlic coming from the oven. When Ollie saw me, he crawled to me, and when I hugged him he smelled like cheese.

I love my work, but it's hard to be away from home. For now, I compartmentalize, because I don't see how to integrate these worlds. I am most struck by the smell-lessness of my workspace, and also by the restraint of the body in the workplace. Bodies are draped and decorated, and are mostly used to carry the brain from place to place. At home, bodies are in constant motion, touching skin-to-skin, smeared with stuff, cranking out tears, pee, poo, drool, farts. At work, bodies are limited, hidden, and controlled. Bodies are taboo: we pretend they're not there. When someone's hair is crazy, or their clothes don't fit right, or they fart, we say nothing and pretend we didn't notice.

I know the Christian ideal is integration - be your whole self, wherever you are. But I don't think the workplace is ready for my whole self. I'm going to compartmentalize, beginning with the following set of rules:

Things You Can't Do At Work

Take off the clothing of someone smaller than yourself.
Talk about poo poo, look at poo poo, or smell like poo poo.
Call other people 'turdzo', 'stinky', or 'tubsy'.
Say "I love you" when greeting people.
Pick other people up.
Repeat syllables. Num-num, rarararara, babababa, ga ga, dididididi.
Wear pajamas, onesies, diapers, or old maternity clothes.

11 Comments:

  • Are you sure you're a 5? All this talk about the way things smell...I didn't think we were supposed to notice such sensory detail. You sound like Margaret Atwood. Seriously, have you read...oh, sorry.

    By Blogger Josh Fuller, at 2:28 PM  

  • you're back! yay! i missed your wittiness.

    katie

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 3:47 PM  

  • I now consider it a personal challenge to do everything you listed at work.

    By Blogger timbu, at 4:06 PM  

  • I don't know. One of the things I liked best about going back to work is that nobody cried if I went to the bathroom all by myself.

    By Blogger Robin M., at 7:05 PM  

  • Ahhh - Robin raises a good point. I'll keep that in mind when I go in tomorrow, and see in what I find myself luxuriating.

    By Blogger Jenell, at 10:49 PM  

  • And Josh, I'm a ONE, not a five. And Timbu, just be careful when undressing people smaller than yourself. It might work out fine, but then again, it might not.

    By Blogger Jenell, at 10:50 PM  

  • I don't think a person can do anything other that compartmentalize these two worlds. That's why working at home is so difficult--the compartments won't stay closed. As hard as it is to be away from home, doing work at work allows you to be fully home when you're home. In theory at least.

    By Anonymous carla, at 9:41 AM  

  • On my first day back at work after my first child, I walked into the office, said hello to my friend, and burst into tears. It's gotten easier since then, but I still don't like to leave. On the other hand, sometimes it feels quite lovely to leave the day-to-day neediness in my husband's capable hands (not to mention his greater capacity for ignoring them).

    By Blogger Heather, at 12:04 PM  

  • Nice posting. Just found your blog via Pete's blog. I'm thoroughly enjoying your posts, and now fully regret that I dropped out of one of your classes when I was a student!

    By Blogger skip, at 4:29 PM  

  • Thanks for correcting me. I remember us being in the same discussion group at an SP meeting, but now I recall it was a multi-numeral grouping. 1's and 5's and maybe 3's? Anyway, I'm sure we accomplished a lot more than the other groups.

    By Blogger Josh Fuller, at 9:54 AM  

  • And we had all the information we needed, and we didn't make any mistakes.

    By Blogger Jenell, at 1:04 PM  

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If I were queen,

I'd ban the following phrase from scholarly conversation: "Have you read..." This applies only to scholarly conversations - when talking with fellow booklovers, I love being the naive respondent to a question regarding an excellent book. Admission of ignorance is a small price to pay for a good lead. This is an excerpt from a conversation I had with a scholar recently.

Him: Have you read So-and-so's book about meaning and the universe?
Me: No.
Him: Seriously, you haven't read it?
Me: No.
Him: Wow. Well, it says... You really need to read it.

This post is not simply a way of digging myself out of the embarrassment hole: that book was far afield from my discipline and my areas of interest, so I don't mind not having read it. And if I were truly embarrassed, I wouldn't blog about it. I'd hold it inside where the memory of it would raise my blood pressure and give me insomnia. What's really a problem is the redundancy of the question, "Have you read..."

Let's try running that conversation hypothetically:
Him: I recently read So-and-so's book about meaning and the universe (pause and make eye contact), and I loved the way she wrote about...
(The eye contact presents me with a choice: say I've read it and talk about the book, or engage the ideas without mentioning the book. The second choice implies I either haven't read or heard of the book, which my conversation partner will understand).
Me: Actually, I just realized I need to meet someone at this very time, so please allow me to excuse myself.

I went with the third option (hypothetically), but I shouldn't have. Professional courtesy would have me engage the idea without mentioning the book, and courtesy on the better-read speaker's part would have him pursue the ideas as well, inserting information from the book in helpful ways. My lack of reference to the book is a clear sign I haven't read it, and he knows it, and I know he knows, and so we may proceed.

Asking bluntly, "Have you read...?" might work out well, if the person has read the book. But if they haven't, you're at a stalemate as to whether or not the conversation should even continue. You've also introduced a molehill of a hierarchy, setting one person over another, though both people have surely read thousands of significant books. Now the question that followed my admission of ignorance, "Seriously, you haven't read it?" is totally unnecessary. The chances of me changing my mind, realizing I have actually read it, are very slim. The "wow" is similarly unnecessary, and disinspired me from wanting to read it, because if I got the book and read it, I'd have to replay that "wow" in my mind whenever I picked it up.

Not that anyone asked, but this is how I feel about academic discussions, especially those occuring between people in different disciplines. The chances of me having read anything in early 20th century architectural theory, or music industry trends, are very slim. I am interested, however, and an indirect introduction to the literature will hook me every time. So don't act amazed because I haven't read the most important book from your discipline at the time you went through grad school, and I won't ask you whether you've compared the account of Margaret Mead's marriage to Gregory Bateson in Mead's autobiography, Blackberry Winter, with her daughter's biography, With a Daughter's Eye. Seriously, you haven't? Wow.

3 Comments:

  • The version of that that drives me nuts is when I haven't seen a movie that somebody expects me to have seen. The response is usually phrased as, "You have to see it!" I know they're being colloquial, but what's up with this having to see certain movies? Are the Holy Movies of Obligation?

    By Blogger Camassia, at 5:03 PM  

  • I agree, camassia. I prefer linguistic precision. If a person would like to be intrusive, they could say, "I think you OUGHT to see this movie."

    It simply isn't true that you HAVE to see it.

    By Blogger Jenell, at 9:19 PM  

  • loved this post. i get really tired of trying to read everyone else's canon. granted, in theology, there's a few that are the foundational texts off of which everything else spins, but really, there's only about three pages worth of "must-reads".

    the rest is just commentary.

    By Blogger Myles, at 4:41 PM  

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Thursday, August 17, 2006

My Big Family

A cup of coffee and a magazine enjoyed in the recliner while the boys (the young ones and the old one) are still asleep: I'm home again. We saw it all: amber waves of grain in the Dakotas, purple mountains majesty in Wyoming and Idaho, the fruited plains and spacious skies of Montana, and the shining sea in Oregon and Washington. America is indeed beautiful, but at the moment, I'm savoring the view from my living room corner: piano, wedding portrait, contents of travel bag dumped on table, toys strewn across the floor.

I just finished Leslie Leyland Field's article "The Case for Kids: A Defense of the Large Family by a 'Six-Time Breeder." She didn't set out to have six kids, but she does, and they love their life on a commercial fish farm in Alaska. The Christianity Today editors also write about their pro-family workplace ethos and their personal affection for kids (p.6 of the August issue).

It's a great article - Fields describes the global decline in fertility (not just America and Europe), and critiques the individualism and selfishness that she believes underly the child-free philosophy. She fairly describes her point of view, and doesn't overly personalize her critiques or demonize individuals who live without children. She does imply, and so do the CT editors, that having children is mostly a matter of choice. People have children when they want them and sometimes when they don't, and don't have children because they actively avoid them by birth control or by abortion. That is true most of the time, statistically speaking. 80% of people have normal fertility and conceive within 4-6 months of trying. 70% of concepti survive the first trimester. 90-95% of second-trimester fetuses (under US health care) are born healthy. 60% of Americans adults are married, though I suppose over 90% have sex regardless of whether or not they're married.

Fields' point is well-taken, but if we reverse those statistics, another necessary side of the story emerges. 20% of people trying to get pregnant find themselves infertile. One in three pregnancies ends before 12 weeks, and around 5-10% of on-going pregnancies end in the demise of the baby. Many people want to be parents, but want to be married first and aren't. These statistics are all growing, at least in the U.S. - infertility, singleness well into adulthood, later age at marriage and first pregnancy, and prematurity are all on the rise. People like this, I'd argue, do have large families, of the invisible variety. My deceased sons, as well as the babies I was never able to conceive, influence the way I parent and the way I see the world. Fields describes how large families help children put others first, see themselves as a larger whole, and conserve limited resources. She says each additional baby brought her both love and terror, and a new opportunity to die to self. Much of the benefit she describes requires a family of living children, but still there are parallels for those of us who wish for larger families than we have. Living with longing is a spiritual practice, allowing the love you have for the babies you never had and/or the babies you lost to bless others.

When I'm out in public with my twins, people often say, "You must have your hands full with two!" or "I wanted twins - how nice to have your whole family at once." They can't see how full my mind and spirit are with more children than two, and how much I want my hands to be full with all of my children. They can't see that my living twins are actually my second batch - I already had, and lost, a whole family at once. The babies I longed for but couldn't conceive, then those I birthed and lost, are part of our family. My living boys are part of a larger story - the years spent waiting for their safe arrival and the demise of their older brothers changed the spiritual climate of our family. They live in a larger story of devastated and recobbled faith, of physical trauma and persistence, and a big community of friends and family who held out hope for their existence.

When Christians speak of valuing family and children, we musn't assume that people who don't have children don't want them, or that people with small families exercised perfect control over their reproduction. Additionally, each of us may reap the blessings of large families when we take seriously our embeddedness in our families of origin, and also of great importance, the very large human family of which we are each a part.

2 Comments:

  • I am glad you are back, warmed by the delicate thoughfulness you brough to these ideas of your yours, and delighted that you posted them. (kpg)

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 6:49 PM  

  • Glad you are back. Thanks for this. As a woman who want children rather badly and doesn't have any, for a variety of complicated and painful reasons, I really appreciate this. It stings a little (and sometimes more than a little) every time I hear some Christian say that the reason I'm still single and don't have kids must be because I don't want them or because I'm overly individualistic and selfish.

    Anyway, thank you for having a broader and more compassionate view.

    Christy

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 3:13 PM  

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Sunday, August 06, 2006

Operation Saltwater Redirected

I suppose time spent worrying over ways in which one is not perfectly thin and beautiful is always wasted time, but never so much as the time spent worrying -- and even worse, shopping -- for a swimsuit to wear to the beach. We're at the beach on the Oregon coast visiting James' family, and it's only 55-65 degrees out. The ocean is cold, like when you put your hand in a sink of icy water and it hurts. As I reflect on the hurtingness of the cold ocean, I'm watching my brother-in-law jump into the ocean, enjoying the rush. As far as I can see up and down the coast, he's the only one in there.

No swimsuit will be worn by me. I may be postmodern in many ways, but I'm going to insist that that is an objective fact in the positivist, modernist sense of the phrase.

Seattle was wonderful. I've only been there once before, but this time I got a sense of where it is on the map, how it's shaped, and how wonderfully walkable and bikeable it is. I visited Monkfish Abbey, and had that weird feeling when you meet someone in the flesh who you've only known virtually. We shared communion, and a meal, and looked around Rachelle's house. I loved seeing her art in real life. I wish I could have done other visits with blogosphere folks in Seattle, especially juniper68, but traveling with two babies leaves little free time.

I wondered at the outset of this trip whether I could have arranged homestays for us across the country via the blogosphere. I wouldn't be surprised if we could do vacations and homeswaps that way someday, but I'm not ready for that yet. I did ask for help buying a computer, and someone just gave me one, a great one that I'm using here on the beach. But what about a place to stay in northeastern Montana or North Dakota east of Bismarck? We're been staying with friends and family in Wasington, Seattle, Idaho, and western Montana, but there are a few isolated parts of the Midwest where we have found ourselves friendless. James said on his cellphone while we were driving, "We don't have any friends in North Dakota." Seems like I should have at least one. (Of course, if my college boyfriend had married me instead of dumping me, I'd have had a whole set of in-laws in NoDak. Not that that's the best reason to marry someone, but there are worse reasons.)

2 Comments:

  • Perhaps if you came through Canada instead of the U.S., you could stay with us - we're directly north of North Dakota. 'Course it's a bit of a LONG way around. :-)

    By Blogger Heather, at 4:52 PM  

  • My husband grew up in NE Montana. His mom is still there. It's a 12 hr. trip from Minneapolis; a day to get there and a day to get back. Even the nearest airport is in Minot, ND, 4 hours away. It's way in the middle of nowhere.

    By Blogger Kim, at 1:01 PM  

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Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Dear Naysayers,

You were wrong. We made it to Seattle, and we're having a good time! Not a single person -- no, not one -- said it was a good idea to drive across the country with twin one-year-olds. I'm willing to concede that it probably was not a great idea. But we chose to be Yeasayers, and are enjoying some cool weather and time with a friend in Seattle before heading to Washington to see family.

We drove across North Dakota, which is still quite flat. Montana, also flat, but interesting in that its flatness extends for hundreds of miles more than NoDak's. We spent a day in Glasgow, seeing the area where my family homesteaded and farmed in the early 20th century. The tarpaper shacks where my newly-married grandmas lived with their husbands on the land their parents rented are still there- history preserved in a small, old western town. My grandpa worked on Fort Peck Dam during the depression, and we saw that, too.

I really just wanted to point out a few things about traveling with babies:

Two babies poop twice as frequently as one baby, and they don't take into consideration whether or not you're near a rest area. Changing babies on the seat of a van in 105 degree weather is sort of difficult.

Sharing a motel room with babies who are used to having their own room is sort of difficult.

Finding a shady place to play outside is sort of difficult when you're in states that don't believe in trees.

Babies would clearly rather be at home in their routine than seeing beautiful landscapes. The interestingness of, say, johnny jump-up versus the Columbia River is a matter of personal opinion.

Preparing meals for babies who smear food on their heads is not very fun on the road. It isn't all that fun at home, either, so we'll just call that even.

Words that don't describe vacationing with babies: restful, relaxing, easy, free.

Words that do describe vacationing with babies: adventurous, interesting, fun, bonding, worth it.

5 Comments:

  • I was born in Kalispell and lived in Butte until I was seven. I still have lots of memories. Most of my mom's family is still there in Butte.

    We did a lot of traveling and camping when our kids were little, including driving to Montana when they were 5, 4 and 2. Adventurous, yes, and truly fun.

    Enjoy the coolness.

    Dana Ames
    Ukiah California

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 4:07 PM  

  • Say hello to the Space Needle and the fish markets for me... we may end up driving from Detroit to LA later this year with chinchillas, and I will remember your experience if we do so.

    By Blogger Hugo, at 4:29 PM  

  • We've done fairly long road trips when our kids were little too, and we never regretted it. Glad you're having fun.

    By Blogger Heather, at 12:02 AM  

  • Janel,

    It was fun to meet you tonight at Rachelle's!

    Jennifer
    www.MyTrueSelf.typepad.com

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 12:39 AM  

  • Hey, glad you are enjoying the cool weather - I'm sorry I didnt connect iwth you and meet the great babies. Maybe the next time you drive across the country with the twins???
    :) Another Seattle Jennifer

    By Blogger juniper68, at 1:29 AM  

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