"The Chronicle of the Leg Shaving"

The title to this post is in quotations because it's the name of a video that a few friends and I created MANY years ago when I finally came off of my man-hating, year-long, no-shaving spree. That's right, as gross as it sounds, I vowed to go an entire year without shaving my legs as a way of expressing to all those idiotic men out there that I wasn't interested in what they were offering. And people, it was gross. The video that I just mentioned was basically what it sounds like: a chronicle of leg shaving. Some of my friends and I took video of me going to the store, buying razors, buying shaving cream, and then shaving my legs. It was totally disgusting (and admittedly, kind of funny), honestly. My legs were SOO hairy, and the grossest part of the video is the end, when all of the hair that I shaved off is swirling its way down the tub drain. Unfortunately, that video has somehow gotten missing, but believe me when I tell you it was quite a sight. Well, ever since then, I haven't gone NEARLY that long without shaving...until this pregnancy. Bending over and doing anything involving the lower half of my leg has become so difficult that I rarely have the energy or desire to bother with it, and so it has been a while since I shaved them. However....this weekend Aunt Laura Gail got married (see next post), and so I had to break down and shave them. I was seriously having flashbacks to the Chronicle video, and dear God, am I happy I got to do that, even in spite of the fact that it took me a good hour to get through both legs. I used to be so averse to the idea of shaving because I thought that, just like high heels and makeup, it was representative of the unfortunate fact that we, even to this day, live in a highly male-dominated society. I still think that's true (think about the fact that the woman takes the man's last name, for example), but, yeah, shaving rocks! My legs were so itchy and so dry before I shaved, and shaving them just made me feel so great, both inside and out. And, it sort of restored some of my self confidence that has been lost over this pregnancy due to the enormous size of my belly and the constantly increasing numbers on the scale. Maybe it's true that men control everything, but the one thing we women have that they don't is the ability to look beautiful...and feel beautiful, too. I don't think I'll ever again take a hairy, dry, scratchy leg over the kind that I'm rocking now.

M's life: the housewife chapter

This past weekend H and I went to campus to finally clean out my office from last semeseter, since God only knows when I'll be returning to school. And then Monday, I also visited the main office on campus to turn in my keys and sign off on everything, and to pick up my mail for the last time. It was such a strange sensation, and in a bizarre way, it was extremely liberating. I can remember back years ago when I first decided that I wanted to go to graduate school and finish with my Ph.D. feeling like I had to justify that to everyone. I always felt like I was surrounded by people who only cared about me one day having babies, being a mom, being a wife, and doing all of those things that are typically attributed to women in the "housewife" role. I hated that..and in a way, I still hate it today. I fought so hard to break out of that box and do something different with my life, and it was always so frustrating to me to have to explain to people why I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and how it was a good course for me. And even though I haven't yet been able to complete the doctorate, I do plan on doing it, and I do still care about that dream. It's just ironic that now, at this new and different time in my life, I feel myself reverting back to all those years ago and starting to see, in a strange way, how important this impending job is. I always imagine my life as a book in which each new season is like a new chapter, and this chapter is what I've called the housewife chapter...and surprisingly, I couldn't be happier. I never thought I would be at this point in my life, but I honestly cannot wait to be home, taking care of little H, cleaning our house, cooking for H, and making sure that all of those "domestic" things are taken care of. I feel unexpectedly and extremely PROUD to be able to be the "housewife" for H, and the Mommy for little H. It is liberating compared to the iron shackles of academia, I have to admit. It's also ironic that now, at a time in my life when I've accomplished certain things I had planned to accomplish, and when I am now about to embark on a new course that is exactly what I want in life, I am once again having to justify this course to other people, namely, those in academia. It's like my past, in reverse. Just like years ago I was having to explain why I wanted to pursue something professionally, now I feel like I am having to explain why I want to temporarily abandon my professional pursuits in favor of something that I perceive to be MUCH more important...like raising my children. It's so interesting, and I guess it just goes to show you that it really doesn't matter what other people say..and that it really shouldn't matter what they think either. I know what's right for me, and H and I know what's right and best for our family, and that is what we'll do, at any and all costs. Why? Because that is what is important. In the end, that is ALL that matters. I guess that what I've learned in this last, quickly-closing chapter of my life is that no matter what, my highest level of commitment must consistently exist at the level of my family. Beyond that, it's all secondary...and now, with that moral noted, I guess I can finally turn the page and begin this new, quickly-approaching season. Boy, I can't wait!! :)

Church shopping

I have to admit that even though I've had quite a few things to blog about lately, I haven't done it because I've been so absorbed in the quilt that I've been working on for little H (which will eventually have it's own post here). Still, I wanted to post some stuff just to get it out of my system. The first post has to do with our recent task of what I like to call "church shopping", or in other words, looking for a church that we would like to take little H to. For big H, this is really important, and so it has become important to me as well, even though I admittedly am not as concerned about it as he is. I have unfortunately had some bad experiences with religion in my past, and I feel almost (honestly) afraid to expose little H to some of the things I was exposed to. Sometimes I think I would rather see him go through life without any religious ideas forced on him than I would see him forced to take part in one religious system or another. Perhaps it's my fear that he'll be closed-minded or that he won't think critically about things that makes me feel this way. I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to, and plan to, raise an upstanding and moral child who knows the difference between right and wrong and who wants to do what's right and be a good person....I just sometimes struggle to see the connection between that and all of the other "accoutrements" that come part and parcel with many organized religions (concepts, doctrine, belief systems, etc.). For example, I will admit that I have a very difficult time understanding why we MUST accept the divinity of Jesus in order to be "saved" or accepted into the "kingdom of heaven"...or why God has to be personified and anthropomorphized on a routine basis. Anyway, those are my issues, and I'm working on resolving them. H doesn't have those issues, and so when it comes time for questions from little H, he might be the one providing answers, with just a little logical input from Mommy. All that said, we've been church shopping. Last weekend we visited a First Baptist Church in downtown Gville, and boy, was it the WRONG church for us. We debated about going to a Presbyterian church around the corner, but when H informed me that they believe in predestination, I couldn't even do it. Anyway, our first clue that this Baptist church wasn't for us was the free hearing machines that were neatly placed on the table in the foyer area, and the real kicker was the sanctuary full of white hair. We were the youngest ones there, literally by about 30 years. It was NOT the right church. The people were super nice, and of course everyone was staring at us because we stuck out like a sore thumb (and I'm sure this ENORMOUS baby in my belly didn't help that), but we have decided not to return to that church. Next week we're thinking of trying a church that one of my friends goes to, which is supposed to be a bit younger. We'll see how it goes....I'm trying to be open-minded here, and trying to work with H to do what will be in the best interest of little H, regardless of my own personal issues. Maybe it'll take me some time, but hopefully, it'll all be for the best.