Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

I'm Not Sure I Want to Do It

Went home sick yesterday because I kept throwing up. And I was desperately afraid I would do it on some one. And not on some one that I would enjoy puking on.

Seriously, I think the Red Sox are trying to kill me. Way to drag that on until the final pitch. My GOD! And the A's, they are CHOKERS.

Of course that collision with Johnny Damon scared the crap out of everyone. Any time some one bleeds out their eyes is a little scary. But I am officially burning in hell for my next thought, "maybe since he has a concussion they will shave that fucking mullet off his head."

Read the most awful book yesterday--it stressed me out so much. "I Don't Know How She Does It," actually, it was a funny book but it rang true. And I found that depressing. And stressful.

The whole premise was this woman had two children, a marriage and a very important job. And she spent so much time trying to do everything that she was just sucking at everything. In 2003 we still have an awful lot of people who think women shouldn't work. I think this author is one of them. And her point is that you have to choose. You really can't have it all, because one piece will always give away.

I thought about my mom. Who was a teacher and went back to work six weeks after I was born. She took an awful lot of shit for that. And teaching is considered a "woman's" job. But I think she was a better mother because she worked. She has always had a sense of herself and that is more important than homemade cookies. She stayed home with us for a couple of years when my dad got a big promotion and wanted the status symbol of a stay-at-home wife. She gained forty pounds and became deeply depressed. Obviously, she wasn't meant to stay home. But I know that she feels guilty. Feels that she missed out.

My father missed most of my childhood. He doesn't remember my first steps or my first birthday or even my seventh birthday because he wasn't there. He missed it. He may regret it now but I know that he doesn't feel guilty about it. That is the difference between the expectations of mothers and fathers. If a father misses a birthday it's alright, but a mother would be arrested.

I see that in the women who work with me who have children. The ones that devote a lot of time to their careers are judged by those that passed those opportunities by to be with their children. The ones that devote more time with their kids are denied opportunities that they may have earned. And this is women doing this to one another. In a company that has many female executives and is honestly family friendly.

Maybe you cannot have everything. Maybe you do have to choose.

Maybe it was the PMS that made me cry and rage about this last night.


For those of you wondering if I am throwing up because I am pregnant. No. And I am not likely to be any time soon.

6:56 a.m. :: comment ::
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