The Wishful Rant of a Mother of a Boy

So tonight Special K, mother of the wonder twins (and so much more), and I went to see W. at the Beverly. Looking back, we probably should have gone to see Space Chimps. It would have depressed us less. 

Not that the movie was sad; it wasn't. It was actually very sympathetic to the emotional and intellectual limitations of George W. Bush. But it did very directly put a lot of blame of his political elevation not just on his own ambitions and "divine sight" (apparently God spoke to W. directly), but on his cronies, like Karl Rove, who treated W. like his "Precious" in the film. Rice repeated a lot of what W. said to help prop up his ego and support his decisions without actually providing her own imput. If you've ever seen Galaxy Quest, it's very similar to Sigourney Weaver's character repeating the computer. And the animosity between Colin Powell and Dick Cheney was really ugly. But I do love Richard Dreyfuss as a nasty Republican. He played one in American President, too.

But the beauty in this film wasn't so much the script... it was a good story. The beauty was the little things that Oliver Stone planned out. Like every time a character had on a suit there was that little American flag lapel pin. Or when W. eats lunch next to Dick Cheney, Dick's got some heart healthy grown up food and W. eats like bologna with iceberg lettuce, Kraft singles and Cheetohs, like he's 8. And, of course, the father/son issues are everywhere.  

However, the thing that bothered me the most about this movie was the "boys will be boys" mentality, particularly in Texas. And that women portrayed in the film who might be wonderful, thoughtful women got involved with these ego centric, power hungry weirdos. Most disturbing was of course the fraternity hazing of the 1960's where they had the guys in large ice tubs and were forcing them to consume (almost drowning them) in liquor to be part of the group.

I have a son. And in my heart I kept thinking, this is what I have to prevent. This is what I don't want for him. I don't want him to be one of those. I had the same feeling when I looked at Bush's cabinet. When I see Rumsfeld, even in my agnostic heart, I give a little shout out to whatever powers that be that MacTroll and I will somehow be able to prevent him from being such an evil asshole.

I want X-man to be good and kind to people. I want him to stand up for himself and those around him who can't stand on their own. And I know that the only way to learn anything in life is to make mistakes, pick yourself up and learn from them. But it worries me like you wouldn't believe to think that my kid could turn into a Rove or a Cheney.

I see men treat so much in this world badly. I see women stand by and try to guide as they support. I see others completely separate from their husband's professional lives so they can be able to live with them at home. But I'm angry at a lot of things lately. I'm resentful of the patriarchal privilege that has gotten us where we are. I hate that when two parents have kids and one gets sick, it's more likely the Mom who takes off work time. Or in my family situation, my life stops so that MacTroll's and X-man's can continue. 

When I made the choice to be a Mom, I intended on sharing my life with my boys. Now I'm feeling a lot like I somehow gave my life away, so they could live theirs. This movie showed other women who have done exactly the same -- Laura Bush, I'm talking to you. And as much as I love what Betty Friedan did for my feminist sisters way back when, I fail to see how getting into the workforce and escaping my domestic cage for a capitalistic one will improve the situation. 

I was reading an article today that estimates that the average child-rearing/home work that an out-of-the-house working mother does is 39 hours a week -- on top of a 40-50 hour work week. I don't think Friedan intended for women to have two full-time jobs. And although I know the fathers I know take a much more active role in child rearing than most of their fathers did, it's no where near good enough. 

I blame myself for knowing that parenting was impossibly hard when I got into it... but still thinking that maybe I'd be strong enough that could make it different for myself and my family.

As it turns out, I am not a miracle worker. In many ways I feel like I'm barely surviving. I don't want a pep talk. Don't give me the "reality check" either. I'm not stupid. Don't patronize me, and don't ever fucking tell me to chill out.

Peace out.