Dear Government, Regarding My Upcoming Wedding

Dear Government,

I'm getting married in a little more than two months, for some definition of the word.  I'm not sure whether we're going to sign on to your institution.  It seems wrong to me that you deny benefits to some couples and not others, even though we look reasonably like a hetero couple and qualify for the institution.  I'm lucky enough that K is willing to talk through the reasons for my reluctance and that we're in a financial position where I don't depend on any of the benefits of the institution.

So I've been doing some research about how we can start a family together, how we can designate each other as beneficiaries, how assumptions of paternity will figure in to how our children will be treated. I looked up and read a sample co-parenting agreement.  I've learned that surrogacy isn't always legal and that adultery laws can override the mutual consent of the parties involved (though apparently this isn't often enforced).

And after this research, I have a question for you, government.

I am an adult, and I am trying to put together a contract with another adult so that we can form a family.  We want to take proactive measures to ensure the welfare of our future children and make sure that we have signed an agreement that will sustain our happiness and stability in the (hopefully many) years to come, and we've found that the institution you've put together doesn't always suit us.  We're willing to put in the work to find a better way, and it won't cost you anything.

Why won't you let us?

Regards,
JP

In Defense of Dandelions

On several occasions, when I was young, I brought my mother a bouquet of the yellow flowers I found in my yard. Together, we filled a brandy snifter with water, added the short stems, and put the resulting display in a place of honor: the center of the dinner table.  It would remain there until the blooms wilted, usually only a day or two later.

Stock photograph from here via Google.

I must have learned that dandelions are supposed to be weeds from a book, perhaps one where the young protagonist obtained summer employment in a dandelion-pulling enterprise, because my parents never cared about whether our lawn had dandelions or not.

After we moved when I was in third grade, our lawn boasted patches of brown dirt and brown grass. Occasionally, there would be a patch of purple-and-green ajuga-- my mother's nemesis, as it spread rapidly and encroached on her carefully-tended patches of shade-loving flowers.  Every spring, my father would embark on another project designed to coax grass to grow in spite of the shade, and there would be patches of turquoise grass seed that we were cautioned to leave untrodden to grow.

The previous owners thought the ajuga was pretty, and it is. It's also a menace. From here via Google.

I only cared about where I could walk in bare feet. The patches of soft sand, the smooth stones, the mossy bricks, and the hated ajuga were kind to my feet, but the grass was always too prickly, and the rain-ridged dirt camouflaged acorn tops-- which were, in turn, better than the asphalt, which absorbed the summer sun and required young feet to run over it on tip-toes.  I avoided the forbidden patches of grass seed in hopes that lush green foot-friendly grass would sprout.

Someday, my fiancé K and I will have a lawn, too, and I don't care what it looks like.  I think that like my parents before me, I'll leave my lawn to (mostly) its own devices in hopes that one day, I will get bouquets of dandelions from my own children.  I've considered putting in patches of chamomile and other herbs, suitable for small feet to step on, if I can figure out how to encourage them to grow without invading the neighbors' yards*.  After all, if I wanted a perfect bright green lawn made out of chemicals, I would put in Astroturf.

______

*Ajuga, I am looking at you.

Can I have a recharge, too?

I found some new mom blogs via Pinterest today!  Exactly what I don't need when I have a goal of "getting some actual work done", but I took a couple minutes anyway.

I found this. I could summarize, but I don't think I can say it better, so here is a quote:

"When we left the program, I talked to my son about “recharging.”  I explained to him that sometimes Mama needed an extra hug or kiss and sometimes he might need one.  Recharges are non-negotiable.  If someone needs a recharge, everything else stops and we wrap our arms around each other and squeeze until we have enough power to last us a while."

Can adults do this if there isn't a kid involved? Is this too cheesy for people who are supposed to be all grown up and "know better"*? Because, sometimes, life is scary and confusing and lonely for people who are over four feet tall, too.


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*I am not a fan of "knowing better" when it means I have to pretend I am some sort of mistake-proof never-forgetting super-creature of infinite energy. I'm not, guys.

Some Books for Children

Books!  I love books.  My mother is fond of telling the story of the time in third grade when the teacher asked us what we'd like to be when we grew up. Lots of doctors, astronauts, police, fire fighters.

I wanted to invent a book you could read in the bathtub*.

Today I found a list of a bunch of books to read to children under 10 via Offbeat Mom. It hits some notes I might not hit myself, which is neat, because I read tons and tons of books in my youth, and there are new books on there.  NEW BOOKS. I love new books**.


The comments add, among books, favorites like Susan Cooper (The Dark is Rising), Ms. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, Antoine de Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince, Lloyd Alexander's Prydain series, "My Father's Dragon", and Diana Wynne Jones.  Maybe not all of these for the before-ten set! But that probably depends on the child in question.  The Offbeat Mama post adds Tamora Pierce and Patricia Wrede's "Dealing with Dragons". I'd personally add Daniel Pinkwater and Diane Duane's "So You Want to Be A Wizard".

In conclusion, I can't wait to be in a semi-permanent home so I can begin the Scouring of the Used Book Stores for All the Books.  And then, I won't be able to wait until I have children, so I can read them All the Books.

On a related note, does anyone have any tips on how to dust books and bookshelves?
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*Current solution: Kindle in a plastic Ziploc bag.
**Anyone have recommendations? I may be in a place where I can get a library card soon!

Why "Reluctantly Female"?

When I was seventeen or so, I had a minor epiphany.  "It's okay for guys to like pink," I had told someone.  A few days later, it hit me.  I had never liked the color pink: I had always considered it "too girly".  I had avoided this color for as long as I could remember, not because I didn't like it (I like pink as much as any single color), but because, subconsciously, I thought it wasn't okay for guys to like pink.  Except, of course, it is okay for guys to like pink.  This produced a contradiction, and I realized that I, too, could like to color pink without being a girl.

The problem* with this logic is that, biologically, I am a girl. I have all the female bits, and I'm generally happy with them, so why do female gender expressions make me so uneasy?

I hate filling out forms. There's always the space that asks for your "sex" (or worse, your "gender").  It's better now-- most of the forms I fill out have a "prefer not to answer" option, which I take whenever it's available.  When I was thirteen, I would always the blank with "YES" because I was oh-so-mature, but really, it's still the answer.  You want to know about my sex?  I like it, when it's consensual, and not otherwise. That's not what you meant? Is it really your business what bits I have under my swimsuit?

I'd never really thought of myself as a potential wife or mother.  Oh, I thought about getting married (and being a "spouse" or a "partner"), and I thought about having children (and being a "parent"), but I always thought about it in terms of a personal, concrete events (making and eating dinner together with my family, negotiating holiday family-sharing, teaching a child how to garden, etc).

A couple of things have come up recently that change that.

• I'm planning a wedding.  This makes me, to nearly everyone, a "bride", which is a hugely gendered role.  (Especially since I'm marrying a man.)
• I'm thinking practically about having a child, especially in terms of the impact to my career. Biologically, being pregnant and giving birth are exclusively female activities.
• There's been a lot of public controversy about reproductive health care recently, and reproductive health care tends to be a woman's responsibility**. The tone of the discourse (that birth control should be a special exception to federal healthcare mandates because of "religious freedom" and that an unborn fetus should have rights greater than or equal to the rights of its mother) is scary, no matter what I think about abortion and the individual mandate.

My reaction to all this has been, approximately, "Oh, I guess I am a girl after all! How do I go about being a girl, again? And can I be a girl without, you know, actually being a girl?"

The answer? I don't know.  I don't know what any of it means.

I hope to find out.
__________
*Problem for me, not necessarily a problem for anyone else.
**I don't want to diminish men's reproductive health or the role of a second parent in reproductive health care, because having a child is usually an important personal decision for two adults, but it is a biological female who bears the bulk of the risk and responsibility for a pregnancy and, by extension, birth control.

Who Will I Be When I Graduate?

I'm graduating from college in about five weeks.  It's terrifying.

I've been applying for jobs for the last few months, submitting resumes and writing cover letters in between homework assigments.  I've had some interviews.  (People tell me that this means I'm one of the lucky ones.)

Rewinding a bit, a bit after I started college, my career was my number-one goal. I had a written Life Plan, complete with basic theory of how the world worked and numbered steps.  It went like this:

1.) Finish two-year degree in business administration.
2.) Research and pursue four-year degree in some combination of business and technology/engineering.
2.5) Consider MBA or CPA, obtain if necessary.
3.) Obtain real-world experience and develop a nest egg in case of failure.
4.) Write comprehensive business plan.
5.) Obtain appropriate financing, certifications, etc.
6.) Launch business.
7.) Foster growth at a rate sustainable in the market.

It's not a bad plan, exactly.  I got my two-year degree in 2009, and I'm almost done with the four-year degree. I dutifully applied for, accepted, and completed internships. (I considered an MBA, and decided that it was not necessary.)

That said, I'm stuck. It's not that step #3 is impossible: I'll graduate nearly debt-free thanks to the internships and generous parents (hi Mom and Dad!), and my university has good job placement rates.

The problem is that, when I interview, employers keep asking me what industry I want and what I want to do, and I don't have an answer for them.  I don't know, specifically, what I want to do, and to be completely honest, I don't even care.  I want to find gainful employment for three to five years, get paid, save some money and then quit so I can start my own business.  Quitting after a few years is entirely normal for my generation, and I am completely capable of providing value to a company during the time range I want to be there in a variety of roles.  I have a broad skill set, and there are a variety of roles I can happily and competently fill.

The other problem is that there are a few things that I know I do want.  I'm engaged. I've been engaged for well over a year now.  I want to get married at some point over the next two years, in part because I hate saying the word "fiancé".  I want children (preferably, before I'm thirty).  These are all pretty new goals for me, and it's a little bit weird. 


I get the sense that the companies I've applied to want me to have a "dream job".  Specifically, they want my "dream job" to be the role I'm applying for.  They want to see me, five years down the road, still working for them. They want me to be willing to move anywhere in the country, at a time of their choosing, ostensibly because I love my job and their company.

Four years ago, when I wrote my life-goals, all of this would have been fine.  In fact, I did move for my internships (to Missouri and to Florida, respectively).  I'm not inflexible when it comes to meeting the needs of an employer, but there are things that I want now. I want to live close to my family.  Not necessarily same-city close, but "able to drive home for Thanksgiving" close (a six-hour drive to home is OK, much further than that is pushing it).  I want to make a major move (from one city to another) at most once in the next five years.  Travel is fine, temporary rotational assignments are fine, but I want a home*.  I want to live somewhere where I can volunteer, join an exercise class, and register to vote without knowing I'll have to start all over again in a year. I want to find work in a place where my fiancé can also find work.

I feel like employers don't think that these are reasonable things to want, especially at the entry level.  So, I'm conflicted.  How do I balance these different roles?  How can I be both an employee and a daughter?  Will I also be able to be a wife and a mother?  How can anyone decide what responsibilities of these roles to pause in the fulfillment of the duties of the others?

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*There are programs that start you out in City A for a year and then decide, after that year, where they want to permanently locate your job, without your input.