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Not Another Mummy Blogger

Hi. I’m the writer from blue milk and I’m thrilled to be writing at Feministe. I write about motherhood from a feminist perspective and I sometimes write for the Australian feminist group blog, Hoyden About Town and other times I write for a couple of mainstream commercial publications. I also work half the week as an economist but I don’t know anything about personal budgets, sorry, as evidenced by my own household budgeting, which is woeful; so, if the figure doesn’t involve at least $100 million then I’m clueless.

I write about juggling work and family, about art and pop culture, about sex and arguments with my partner, about a bunch of traditional feminist topics like rape, breastfeeding, abortion, and the sexualisation of little girls, and I also write about politics. By and large, my writing is pitched squarely within the framework of motherhood and technically, I think this probably makes me a ‘mummy blogger’. I’m not all that offended by the term. I can see that it’s meant to be somewhat insulting, even children get embarrassed calling you ‘Mummy’ once they get to school, it is just that I am too tired to care. And there is a part of me that feels if a label is stigmatised like that then maybe it’s worth defending. After all, the belittling of mummy blogging has a lot in common with the ways in which mothers are marginalised.

There’s a lot we could do to improve the public discussion of motherhood but here is where I would start. We would not be so judgemental towards mothers if we recognised that mothering is work. If you aren’t yet able to accept mothering as work then you have some reading to do – it will involve economics and history. Start with the emergence of industrialisation when family work first became invisible. And if you can’t see that breastfeeding a baby was every bit as important as collecting firewood for family survival, then keep reading back through feudalism. But once you knock that patriarchal lens of distortion from your eyes you will never see mothers and children quite the same way again. Everywhere you look you will see something a little bit horrifying – hours and hours and hours and hours of unpaid labour. It is work performed very often with love; it is work with possibilities of personal reward and great satisfaction, much like some other jobs, except it is unpaid.

We would have better public policy and better rights for women if we were able to acknowledge more honestly that capitalism is not a marketplace, it is rather, a system that involves the intersection of the market with government, families and communities. We are talking about the greatest heist in capitalist history, because it is estimated that unpaid work in the USA amounts to 50 per cent of all hours of work performed. Imagine any other resource vanishing from the national spreadsheet like that. Capitalism, in its present form, could not survive without that unpaid support. It is not mothers who are draining the system, it is mothers and carers who are propping up the system.

I don’t want to over-complicate what is supposed to just be an introductory post here, but it says something about living in a patriarchy that we would have women specialise in a very demanding area of work that is both vitally important to us and utterly worthless in terms of monetary compensation, doesn’t it?

And there’s lots of other stuff to consider – children are not ‘units of production’, they’re small people who deserve to be nurtured with love and dedication; and yes, mothers are driven by an intense maternal desire to be with their children in spite of the sacrifices; and yes, self-ownership through individual wages was an incredibly important step in feminism and who am I, a mother in the workforce, to deny it? All I am saying is that you do not need to believe in universal minimum incomes and legislated entitlements for at-home parents/carers (though it would be nice) to know that there is a problem here when we penalize mothers through regressive tax systems and workplace discrimination for providing essential care work.

And while capitalism helped women mobilise collectively and seek ownership of resources you cannot pretend that capitalism and the patriarchy are not also mutually reinforcing, which is what you are doing when you tell mothers to just stop looking after kids and get a real job, already. Because whenever a mother enters the workplace a deal is being cut somewhere for childcare. Thinking care work vanishes when a woman’s time is suddenly accounted for in paid employment is patriarchal thinking. Either she is negotiating with a partner for him/her to stay home with the children (and obviously, this favours partnered parents over single parents and high-income couples over those in minimum wage jobs); or she is asking a female relative or friend to help out (more unpaid care on the balance sheet); or she is paying someone to look after the children (and fine, if she can afford to and is willing to pay a fair wage to someone for the task; but let’s not kid ourselves, childcare is female-dominated, poorly paid, and has a history of exploiting poor women for the task).

Ok, so this mother is now at work and by being there she sends important signals to her colleagues and employers about the role of women, she also sends a message to her partner (if she has one) and her children about her identity, she’s feeding her family, and hooray! she officially exists in the marketplace. Good for feminism, but as long as we don’t get ahead of ourselves and expect her to be the entire gateway for female liberation. In fact, it’s an uncomfortable notion but dual, high-income households have seen poor households slip even further behind since women joined the workforce. Turns out when rich women are working and marrying rich husbands, who are also working, that this only widens the gap between them and poor households. Go figure. Obviously, I’m not against women in the workforce but I’m saying this stuff is complicated. It will take a few bites of the apple before we get it sorted out.

If feminism, in approaching the unresolved question of mothers, does not recognise that motherhood is messy and emotional and diverse and political then it has missed the mark. It is important not to try to over-simplify mothers, not to stereotype them and not to ignore that their tasks are real work. Again and again in my writing I try to emphasize that last point, because I suspect much of the hostility towards mothers, including between mothers, would fade if we just understood that mothers are people trying to do a job and it’s consuming and tiring. It is difficult to imagine we would be bothered with The Mummy Wars if we were mobilising around the exploitation of unpaid care in our economy instead.

Because how ludicrous, how shameful, how utterly trivial our judgements of a teenage mother suddenly become with this one acknowledgement – that she is working, that it is hard work and it is for no pay and no recognition. Or our judgements of a mother with a disabled child having an outburst in public; or a mother breastfeeding her toddler; or a mother trying to help her teenage child with their drug addictions; or even, a mother blogging. (Oh, you want to tell me how I should do my unpaid work more to your liking? Fabulous, do tell). It sometimes helps to remember that even the most privileged mother is occasionally woken in the middle of the night by her sick toddler and sits bolt upright in bed, bleary-eyed and shivering in the dark, to catch vomit or shit in her bare hands. It may take some of the sting out of her, apparently, selfish lifestyle.

It is an uphill battle though, some of the fiercest defenders of mothering as a task too precious to be sullied with the term ‘work’ are mothers, themselves. There’s a lot invested in an identity when it is all you have. This does not mean that we can’t question the decisions mothers make or criticise the institution of motherhood. In fact, I would be lost as a mother without feminism and its difficult questions. But as feminists we must ask questions and listen to the answers, we must be prepared to change or expand our theories when we get it wrong, and I advise that we tread lightly in these discussions – that we tread as someone walking over the toil of unpaid workers.

Latch On, NYC–OR ELSE (Updated 8/1)

Starting September 3, baby formula will be a controlled substance at some New York City hospitals. Under the health department’s voluntary Latch On NYC program, 27 hospitals are literally hiding the baby formula under lock and key, tucking it away in distant storerooms and locked dispensaries like legitimate medications that need to be tracked. [See update. -C] Nurses will be expected to document a medical reason for every bottle a newborn receives, and mothers will get a breastfeeding lecture every time they ask for a bottle of formula.

(Now with 100 percent more updates!)

Encouraging Delayed Sexual Activity Without Shaming

A few years back, the McGuinty Liberals in Ontario proposed a new sex ed curriculum for the province, one that would start in Grade One.

Naturally, people lost their shit, because Grade One students couldn’t possibly be taught about … (whisper it with me now).. sex.. in a nuanced and age-appropriate manner. Around me I saw parents react as though they were going to be showing Debbie Does Dallas to six-year-olds.

However, the curriculum outline was much more well thought out than that. The Grade One curriculum would introduce basic anatomy including body parts and their proper names. Grade Three would introduce homosexuality – as in, ‘Hey. This is a thing that exists.’ and ‘Some kids have two mommies or two daddies’. Grade Five would cover reproduction and introduce masturbation. Grade Seven and Eight classes might touch on Oral and Anal sex.

The original articles I cited when I wrote about this back in 2010 are gone, but I did find a link to the proposed curriculum.

Click Here (.pdf)

At the time I felt like this kind of curriculum made a lot of sense and was a nice step from the last curriculum update, which had been in 1997. It didn’t operate in a strictly heterosexist, heteronormative paradigm, introducing kids to concepts such as homosexuality and transgenderism on a level appropriate to kids. Granted, how well these concepts would have been communicated by teachers we’ll never know, as the curriculum was abandoned after less than three days under pressure from conservative groups that were concerned with pre-teens ‘getting lessons in anal sex’.

One of the phrases that jumped out at me in reading about this was, as opposed to abstinence as taught by many sex education curricula, the idea of ‘delayed sexual activity’. It seems to put across the idea that sex is going to happen, but let’s just try and put it off a bit, until you’re good and ready.

I have a confession to make. As a parent, the idea of my kids as sexual beings, scares the beejeebus out of me. It’s coming though, I know it. My oldest one, at eleven, has discovered ‘boys’ and while she enjoys the attention, she thankfully still makes faces at the thought of anything beyond hand-holding.

It’s coming though. I’d like to be able to put it off as long as possible.

I talk with my kids a lot, and I’m pretty candid with them. I’ve had numerous puberty talks and we’ve had numerous ‘Where babies come from?’ talks and a few ‘How do babies get there?’ talks and at least one ‘Dear God, how you NOT get babies there?’ talk. I’ve talked to them about consent and about how no one is allowed to touch them without their permission. I’ve talked about secrets and how if anyone tells them to keep a secret from me or their dad that they should tell us immediately, even if it does ruin a few surprise parties. I’ve talked to them about masturbation and how it’s totally cool and okay, just not in the living room in front of company.

I wish I could find a way to just say ‘Please, for your mother’s sake don’t do it.’ without making them feel like sex is dirty or shameful. Because I don’t fear them having sex so much as facing the issues that sometimes go with it. Coercion. I don’t necessarily expect them to buy into the idea ‘your first time should be special, and full of feeeeelings’.

But your first time, if at all possible, should be on your own terms. It should be safe. Without fear. Because you’re there and you’re ready and you really want this. I don’t want them to feel coerced, or unsafe, or unable to walk away.

I fear unplanned pregnancy. I can have all the birth control talks with them I want, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility that most, namely hormonal-based methods may not even be an option due to family history. I fear them having to face an unplanned pregnancy. None of the options are pleasant. Raising a child in your teens, abortion, adoption – none of these are wrong choices, but none of them seem like particularly pleasant choices.

I don’t want them to delay their sexual lives out of some kind of moral obligation or some arbitrary idea of purity. It’s a protectiveness thing I suppose. I just want their lives to stay… uncomplicated, or as uncomplicated as possible, until they are both fully ready to take that kind of responsibility on.

Is it possible to encourage kids to wait to have sex (whatever ‘sex’ may entail – not referring strictly to PIV) without being shame-y about it?

(I just want to mention that this probably comes across as fairly heteronormative in assuming that both kids will be in heterosexual relationships. I’m not taking it for granted, I’ve actually given great consideration to the possibility that my kids could fall anywhere on the spectrum and I’d be totally supportive.)

Feminism + Housewifery

I realize the rest of the feminist internet is going to disagree with me on this one, but I loved this Elizabeth Wurtzel piece on 1% housewives.

Is it mean? Yes. Is it representative of most women’s lives? No. But maybe it’s time modern “internet feminism” made room for polemics and hard-nosed viewpoints and positioned itself as a serious social movement, instead of focusing on identity and making everyone feel good.

Absent Mothers in Urban Fantasy

Urban Fantasy — the bringing of the fantastic (vampires, werewolves, magic, fae and so much more) to a modern, real world setting — has become ever more popular as a mainstream genre. From Twilight to True Blood to The Vampire Diaries, it is now firmly entrenched on our televisions. The books regularly reach the best seller lists – this isn’t a fringe genre. It’s here, it’s huge and it’s here to stay.

Awesome Dad of the Day

Will Smith:

“We let Willow cut her hair. When you have a little girl, it’s like how can you teach her that you’re in control of her body? If I teach her that I’m in charge of whether or not she can touch her hair, she’s going to replace me with some other man when she goes out in the world. She can’t cut my hair but that’s her hair. She has got to have command of her body. So when she goes out into the world, she’s going out with a command that is hers. She is used to making those decisions herself. We try to keep giving them those decisions until they can hold the full weight of their lives.”