Tofu Water and Not Letting Your Guard Down

Yesterday, I changed the tofu water. And two days before that, I changed it as well. I should be changing the tofu water every day, but somehow between mopping up puddles of spit up, scrubbing cat barfs on the carpet, and going shopping for the 3rd time this week because I forgot something else, I just didn't manage to squeeze in a daily tofu water changing. I've been giving Q a soft mixture of tofu and blueberries for breakfast, which has resulted in some interesting poops and a light blue stain on her butt that won't come off. This is apropos of nothing.

So, I could gush about how motherhood has meant trying new things that I never thought I'd try--like changing tofu water--but what I really want to say is that I only feel true fear when I imagine harm coming to my daughter, or her not being by my side always. I have recurring dreams of being separated from her and panicking because I am not there to breastfeed her and am scared she will be crying and hungry. I am struggling to leave her in the care of another person more than I used to--pushing down feelings of unease as I push a shopping cart through the grocery store alone. But I still need that time apart from her. Every mother needs that time.

On a somewhat related note, I have been hearing some stories of babies and young children being left in hot cars and suffering injury as a result. And with those stories comes the inevitable comments: "Some people should never have children." "We should put THEM in a car for the same amount of time and watch them suffer." "How can you be so stupid as to forget your child?" I saw a picture posted of signs at a Walmart store reminding shoppers to check their cars to make sure they didn't leave a child inside, and the comments were predictably vicious.

Back up a second, folks. I am twenty seven years old. I have been a mother for 7 months out of those twenty seven years. I must concede that once in a while, I will forget I am a mother. It happens very infrequently now, but in the first 4 or so months, it was a fairly common occurrence. Loving someone does not mean thinking about them for every single minute of the day. Forgetting your child in the car might be easier than you think. It can happen due to something as simple as a change of schedule and a sleeping baby. For example, S usually watches Q while she naps and I go to church, but once in a while if she has had an early nap, I will take her with me. The biggest mistake you can make is to let your guard down. To think, "That could NEVER happen to me," or, "I would NEVER forget I had my child with me." These sorrow-stricken parents are undoubtedly experiencing the most intense despair and self-loathing imaginable; having judgment and threats heaped upon them from the unfeeling masses is both cruel and unnecessary.

I think having those signs up in stores is a great idea. Having a little note on your dashboard to remind yourself to check the backseat is a great idea. Not letting your guard down--not thinking, "That would never happen to me," is a great idea. I think the same can be said of marriage, in fact. There is a 50% divorce rate, but if you had asked those people at the beginning of their marriage/engagement, if there was ever going to be a chance of divorce, how many of them do you think would have said yes? Probably close to 0%. Admitting that we are fallible, that we have the capacity to make mistakes--BIG mistakes--will bring us a long way in preventing disaster.

Where Are the Women Engineers?

I cannot stress how unrelated this picture is.

The inspiration for this blog comes from this video, which set the cogs a-turnin' (excuse my homespun turn-of-phrase; we're gearin' up for Stampede Week 'round here!): Raising Up Female Engineers

I think that, honestly, I'd always assumed that women shied away from fields such an engineering and computer science because they are worse at math and science. Which, I now realize, is a debilitating way of thinking, and probably completely untrue. In fact, my brother and I are somewhat of a real life example. He excels in English--he is a voracious reader and always received high marks, including on the SAT where his verbal score dominated his math score. And yet, he majored in computer science. As for myself, my verbal and math scores on the SATs were identical, despite constant affirmation from myself and others that English was my gift and that I struggled with math. And I majored in English lit. I find myself wondering more and more what would have happened if I didn't have that pervasive societal belief planted in my head that girls are bad at math. Because I wasn't. But I think that my own preconceptions may have gotten in the way of my excelling at it.

Something the woman in the video said really got my attention. We give girls dolls and dress up clothes to play with, and we give boys Kinnex, Lincoln logs, and Legos. (Though, as my mom said, I had access to all of those toys due to having an older brother and still wanted the dolls and dress up clothes.) It made me wonder whether women in male-dominated fields were more likely to have grown up with brothers than women in the general population. They would have, in all probability, had more access to toys that encourage building and problem-solving, rather than nurturing and beauty (but don't get me wrong, nurturing and beauty are wonderful things--I just think girls should just be exposed to more possibilities).

I do believe that there are inherent differences between the genders (besides anatomical, obviously), but I think it's really hard to tease them apart and that I may have overestimated them. On the flip-side, I wonder if men have been conditioned to believe they aren't nurturing. Why is caregiving a female-dominated field?

I'm not sure whether my little gestures will make any difference in the long run, but yesterday I gave Q a toy train (well, her grandma did actually!). She will also get dolls and pretty things, but I hope to mix things up and give her some Legos, toy cars, and things colored blue or green. There is a disturbing trend of walking into a toy store and finding the girls' section a sea of pink and the boys' section inundated with play weapons. And hey, maybe these toys reflect each gender's innate desires, but I'd rather let Q decide for herself that she doesn't want to be an engineer than for me to decide for her.