This is the fifth post in “A Month of Reading“
Today I read in stolen moments.
I had a deadline for my weekly advice column at Mom.Me (Here is the latest post, about breastfeeding and going back to work after your baby is born and guilt. It’s a comedy!), and a last minute giveaway on the hyperlocal blog (if you live around here and want to see a movie, there’s one more pack of tickets up for grabs at the time of this writing), and a dentist appointment, and early school pickup.
Yes, it’s Wednesday, otherwise known as Wacky Wednesay because our school dismisses all kids at the same time, and early because of…well I’m not sure why. All I know is that the parking situation there is out of control, and I have to get there 30 minutes early to get a parking space so I can walk to my Kindergartener’s classroom to meet him. Once he’s in first grade, it’s pickup line all the way, baby!
I read this article this morning with my breakfast in lieu of a morning paper which only comes on Sundays:
It’s nature’s way—children have to be cute for 18 years (an unusually long span, in the mammalian world) so parents are motivated to shoulder their care; dogs and cats need to give us affection so we’ll feed them; adult companionate relationships depend on the commerce of gratitude, which in the past has come down to the exchange of care for money.
Sandra Tsing Loh is addressing the idea that there is a growing number of households in which the wife out-earns the husband. Frankly, I took almost the whole thing with a grain of salt because the idea of that much pressure makes me tired. I have clearly gone in the opposite direction, and I already feel like I’m failing at it. So much so that when she quoted a book about housekeeping I put it on hold at my local library.
I love Tsing Loh’s writing style and I forgive her for seeming to rationalize her lifestyle choices by citing perceived trends and other people’s books. I usually ignore the comments on big sites like the Atlantic, but I happened to scroll down and catch a few. It just reminded me to never read the comments.
I read some more of “Nightfall” during my wait at school. I arrived 30 minutes early, found a parking space, rolled down the windows, turned on The Dave Ramsey Show on the radio, rifled through today’s mail, ate a sandwich and a package of nuts, drank a Diet Pepsi, and then read a couple of chapters. Whatever, it’s fine. It’s not going to keep me so riveted that I forget to get out of the car and pick up the kids.
Every time I ducked into the bathroom I picked up “Writing Down the Bones” by Natalie Goldberg, flipped to a random page, and read a paragraph or two. It’s like spinning a globe and putting your finger down anywhere to dream about where you will travel someday. I read her thoughts on selling your work, on finding your voice, and on trying something new to get a different perspective.
The rest has been poking around the internets, reading Facebook. I think I’ll save that for its own post.