I Spy

My attentiveness acuity has been rather sharp in recent days, and so there have been a few chance situations I've encountered that I thought worthy of the blog.

I don't know why this particular instance resonated so deeply with me, but...upon turning into my parking space at the local garden center in town, I noticed a middle-aged couple getting out of their SUV in front of me. The husband had barely parked the car before the wife pushed the passenger side door open, closed it and walked into the store while her husband locked the vehicle. He seemed to walk along, at a distance behind her as though he were used to doing so. It made me sad. One of the things Adam and I like most about running errands together is the quality time we spend with each other. So many times he's had to run to get an oil change or pick up light bulbs or do some banking, and he eagerly asks me if I want to take a ride. Half the time, I want to stay at home and have time to myself to get chores done, read a book or catch up on a phone call. However, seeing his face looking so hopeful and being flattered by how much my husband wants my company on such ventures is enough to make thoughts of doing anything else fall by the wayside. Errand time is our time. Looking at the couple in the garden center parking lot made me wonder if they had just had a fight...or maybe she was rushing in because she thought there would be a big sale?...or maybe they've just settled into an existence where they don't really acknowledge each other. I really hope we don't fall into that pattern.

I also have noticed recently that I get a lot of stares from friends and strangers alike when it comes to disciplining my kid. I am relatively strict with her. I grew up in a very strict household where corporal punishment came in the form of hands (my father actually nicknamed his "fire" and "thunder"), a belt, or a choose-your-own-backyard-stick-to-serve-as-the-switch-I'll-be-spanking-your-@$$-with. I have made the personal decision that corporal punishment is just not my bag. Cheesy as it sounds, I heard the best comment in reference to spanking from Dr. Phil. He said, and I paraphrase, "How can we teach a child that he or she can't hit siblings and peers when they've done something the child doesn't like, when we as parents hit our children for the same thing and call it 'discipline'? It's hypocrisy and doesn't make sense." I loved that perspective and it has stayed with me. So, instead of spankings, I tend to follow the Supernanny method of punishment by putting Bryony into timeouts (and later, when she's older, take away privileges). Timeouts are SO effective because Bryony finds sitting there, all by herself, being ignored, completely maddening. She screams and cries and makes me look like the mother with the glass eye and wooden tail. But, I've realized that being a single mother means having to play two roles at once...with no extra pair of hands available to catch her as she runs toward a roadway or tries to scale tall furniture, I have to put my foot down pre-emptively. I am playing "bad cop" more and more these days, as she pushes boundaries and conveniently goes deaf when I'm talking to her. I have to be Mum and Dad all rolled into one, and that doesn't always come across as pretty. One of my friends recently said that she felt at this age, the kids should be left to explore and discover, that there will be plenty of time in the future for rules and boundaries. Sometimes I don't have that luxury. If I have to take a shower or take out the trash or go to the basement while Bryony is in the house (and if putting her in her crib is inconvenient or not an option for whatever reason), there is no Adam around to watch her to make sure she's not doing something dangerous. I need to know that in those three minutes, I can run outside to push the trash out and she won't have climbed up onto the stovetop and turned all the burners on. I have to be strict with her in order to give her the best possible chance of staying healthy and safe. Weird looks from others is the burden I'll have to bear, at least for a little while longer.

I've also spied with my little eye more and more women with body hair, in the form of leg hair and armpit hair. I have always found this incredibly fascinating. I'm not sure why, considering men sport hairy pits and legs without a second thought, and society considers it normal and acceptable. But if a woman walks up with all the hair nature gave her, one starts to hear comments like, "Whoa! Why didn't she shave that forest under her arms?" or "Dude, I don't wanna be with a woman who's got more hair on her legs than I do!" How is it that so many of us--the vast majority of us--has bought into the idea that women should be ashamed of the qualities that nature gave us? Since when is armpit hair or leg hair on a man natural, but it's "dirty" or "ungroomed" on a woman? The last time---perhaps the only time--I grew my armpit hair out was in college when my roommate and I had a standing bet to see who could grow more underarm hair in a month. Our third roommate was the begrudging judge at the end of the month. At the time, it was funny, and I lived in the East Village and was young and kinda hippie. Now, I'm not sure how comfortable I could feel letting the hair grow. Listen, I'm not a crazy armpit and leg shaver. I know women who shave everyday, as though they feel their continued membership in Womanhood depends on it. I'm more of the "shave it or leave it" variety, maybe shaving, maybe not for weeks on end until I finally just get tired of the extra hair and do away with it all. But, I look to women who don't feel the need to shave for their husbands, their jobs, their communities or for society in general, and I am jealous of and impressed by their mental fortitude. It's not easy to be true to yourself in such a way in today's culture.

I'm done with I spy for now...as, I think I spy a sty on my eye from all the spying.