Many of us bourgeois moms--me at the top of the list--are spoiled, emotionally immature complainers who become far too easily overwhelmed. Part of this is because those seemingly small decisions in life apparently have far-reaching consequences.
That Hallowe'en candy you binged on? It might have been made with the help of child slaves! The six-pack of beer you bought your husband so he'd grumble less when you went out with your friends? Make sure to cut the plastic rings or you will be strangling a seagull!
That Hallowe'en candy you binged on? It might have been made with the help of child slaves! The six-pack of beer you bought your husband so he'd grumble less when you went out with your friends? Make sure to cut the plastic rings or you will be strangling a seagull!
And never buy supermarket meat, as you will be riddling your children with hormones that will make them obese and force them into early puberty!
I have noticed a startling lack of enthusiasm for causes since I became a mother. I went from a vegetarian lover of impromptu street theatre, poetry slams and political protests to a carnivorous, gas-guzzling minivan driver too tired to give a shit. I think my low point was loading an obscene amount of ground beef and diapers into my minivan at the Costco parking lot on voting day. (And yes, I forgot to vote.)
Being a mother didn't turn me into some giving, community-oriented Mother Theresa. (She had the *time*! She had no actual children?) Being a mother made me just another guilt-ridden, arrogant, self-absorbed pursuer of "me-time," who "does what she can" --mostly making appropriate consumer choices and disposing of garbage correctly.
Is it just me, or is the obvious solution to bring back drinking, smoking, Valium, pressure-cooking everything, denial and bridge as appropriate pass-times for moms?
"I went from a vegetarian lover of impromptu street theatre, poetry slams and political protests to a carnivorous, gas-guzzling minivan driver to tired to give a shit."
ReplyDeleteAwesome.