I find myself completely lacking the ability to chit. And I’m very poor at chatting. Combining the chit and chat makes me a verbose lunatic capable of only non-sequiturs and insane rantings. Case in point, yesterday:
I’m at the park yesterday with the kids and these women I’ve seen around the neighborhood. They all seem nice and respectable and good mothers. They take walks together at night sometimes and they’re on the neighborhood committees to run the Easter Egg Hunt and the 4th of July Parade. Like I said, they’re good people. They seem very friendly to each other. But typically they leave me alone. I am The Other, I think. I’m a Dad at the park. Not sure they know what to make of me.
And I’m good with that. They hang near the swings. I’m near the jungle gym. But yesterday when I walked the kids to the park I noticed that they’d congregated near the jungle gym.
Uh-oh.
Now, not to get too Bloods and Crips about all this but this was a massive breach of protocol. I see these people here all the time. The jungle gym is my area. you see, two of my children love climbing and hanging upside down so I usually set up camp there because it seems that if an injury is going to occur, it’ll be one of these two.
So I sit down on the bench right near this group of women. But I’m pretending to be cool with that.
You see, I’m pretty good at avoiding conversation by staying right on top of my kids or pretending to bury my face in a book. But my kids want less and less to do with me on the playground except for the moment where they yell “Dad, watch this” right before they do something that I’d require a parachute, a jetpack and three dozen mattresses before trying. And that day of all days I forgot my book…LEAVING ME EXPOSED!
As I’m watching the children I see two of the ladies making the short walk over to my bench.
Now, in prison this kind of thing means a hit. But I’m not in prison. I’m just a Dad next to the jungle gym. But I still find myself preparing for their arrival. Now, don’t the wrong impression of me. It’s not that I’m unfriendly. I am quite friendly. But I’m a waver. When I drive by I wave and smile. If I walk past you on the street or in a store I’ve got a might fine “how ya’ doin?” at my disposal that I use to great effectiveness quite often.
Just as the ladies sat, my four year old decided that hanging from his feet would be fun. So I’m trying to watch him while the women sit down, essentially right next to me. I scroll through my responses in my head which consist of waving or saying ‘how ya doin?’ But being right next to them I’d probably take out an eye with a wave so I trot out my best “how ya’ doin?” I even said it twice because there were two of them. Quite clever, huh? And I was ready for that to be it but within three minutes I learned more about these women than I know about my sister.
You see, when men talk we don’t talk about ourselves. We might as well be third party outraged narrators pointing out all the evils of our favorite teams or maybe politics if we feel real comfortable. “Did you see that error last night? or “You hear they’re raising our taxes again?” Third party outraged narrators.
But women are different. They talk. They talk fast and they burrow deep. I’m not a burrower. I like skimming along the surface like a flat rock.
But the two women talked about real things. One of them had cancer years before. The other was worried about how slow her son was picking up reading.
And all I’m thinking is “Hey, did you hear that the Phillies are strongly considering Pedro Martinez? Isn’t that outrageous?”
But here’s the real point of the story. Then they both told me what they did with their lives before the children. The one had been an account executive and the other had been in pharmaceutical sales. And they told me about their promotions and how nicely their careers had been progressing and then the one said, “But now I’m just home with the kids.”
And the account executive said, “If I had my druthers I’d be back in the office but…day care costs and…” and she trailed off.
And then it was my turn to talk. You see, people signify this by looking at you and remaining silent. See, I pick on these little subtleties. And then the one, obviously wondering why I look like I just ate a lemon, said with a polite smile, “If you had your druthers what would you be doing?
My response went something like this:
“Druthers. That’s a funny word. Who has all the druthers that everyone is always looking for? Everyone always says, ‘If I had my druthers, I’d…’ But I’ve never heard anyone say, “hey, you’ll never guess what I got today. I got all my druthers. I wasn’t even looking for them and there they were.” You know I’m starting to think there’s someone somewhere who’s confiscated all the druthers and they’re doing quite fine for themselves.
As I’m talking the one woman’s polite smile is becoming maniacally stretched. I can tell it’s not a real smile but she feels she’s under some obligation to smile at what I’m saying so she’s literally forcing the sides of her mouth to join her ears. But her eyes aren’t squinting as happens during a real smile. Her eyes are widening. She’s realizing I’m insane. So I stop talking.
And just so you know that level on insane non-sequiturs gets you only strange looks and a lot of silence. As well as a whole bench all to yourself. Just a few moments after my insanity giggled to the surface the two women found reasons to scatter to the far end of the park leaving me alone on the bench.
The jungle gym was mine again. Go Crips!
I wondered to myself while watching my children climb and slide and run, where I’d be if I had my druthers. And I couldn’t help but think that if I had my druthers I’d be on the park bench watching my children climb and slide and run. Maybe I’d have a book. And the four year old would be wearing a really big helmet. But that’s it.
And I wondered if those two women actually felt differently about their roles as stay at home parents or they just felt some kind of societal pressure to prove their worth by explaining their pre-child careers to me. And I felt bad about that. I’ve noticed a trend with stay at home parents that upon being asked what they do they often give a rundown of their previous career that takes a few minutes and then add a few words (almost as in epilogue) that now they just stay home with the kids.
I find it really sad that parenting is something we have to make an excuse for.
I’ve decided that when people ask me about myself I’m just going to say “I’m a stay at home Dad.” I’m not going to explain myself. Not going to say what I did before. I’m not going to explain what I also do now. When asked, I’ll say I’m a stay-at-home Dad.
I just don’t think anyone at this park will be asking me anything anytime soon. So I’ll just sit there on the bench watching all my children with no book and all my druthers.
July 21, 2009 at 6:21 am
Matthew –
I love this post, particularly the paragraph about the women having a need to share their pre-child careers. I identify strongly with this feeling.
I felt very anonymous when I left my career to "waste" my talents on my husband and children. My husband and I knew it was God's will for me to be "just" a housewife and (gasp!)homeschooling mother, yet dealing with the flack from friends, family and co-workers was difficult.
I soon realized, however, that as I settled into the anonymity of being "just" a housewife and mom I felt a strange need to get some sort of "credit" for leaving the prestige of a career for such a thankless job – what a sacrifice I had made! I'd never realized how much of my self-worth and feeling of dignity was wrapped up in what I "did" for a living.
It was a difficult transition but, by God's grace, I made it. I'm perfectly fine with being "just" a wife and mom.
By the way, if you ever see a lady at the far end of the park with her face buried in a book, trying to avoid conversation with other women… that's me.
Don't worry – I won't say hello.
July 21, 2009 at 7:00 am
Loved this! Wonderful! I've got a hold of my druthers, too…
July 21, 2009 at 12:32 pm
Before I had kids I had a series of boring and irritating jobs that involved dealing with coworkers, other people's children and stupid paperwork I could care less about.
Now, my 'work' consists of chores I'd have to do anyway, trips to the library, blueberry picking, zoos, and long conversations about sharks, trucks, and trains with a 2 year old. (I have long conversations with my girls, too, but those are way too surreal to sum up in a few words…)
In the past, when the people I spent all day with threw a tantrum, I had to smile and nod, and complain about it when I got home, because they were just jerks.
Now, when the people I spend my day with throw tantrums, I can send them to their rooms, ground them from 'screen time,' and know I am working to make sure they DON'T grow up to be jerks.
When I worked, I had to avoid topics like politics and religion to avoid giving offense. Now I can rant all I want!
Plus, now I can write and comment on blogs and think about interesting things instead of "Should I cc this message to Betty?" and "When will HR call back?"
You're just hanging out with the wrong Moms. (If it's any consolation, my bunch of Moms is more along the lines of "Did you see Mark Steyn's column? OH! Creative Minority Report said….." So you'd fit right in with us… you could just provide a verbal blog! =)
July 21, 2009 at 1:20 pm
When I decided to stay home and rear my children, those around me did not understand. When I was asked what I did, I always replied "I am a full-time mom and wife and I love it! Somehow, the conversation always ended there. Now when they ask, my answer is, "I am a grandma and I love it!"
July 21, 2009 at 1:58 pm
Since I used to be the only mom with six kids on the playground, I was the one who got the sidelong glances and stares, so I can relate completely to your playground experiences.
I never tried bringing along a book, but I've developed many other techniques to avoid uncomfortable conversations with two-child moms.
Thanks for "sharing"!
July 21, 2009 at 2:55 pm
You know it all comes down to what is your vocation and what is your occupation. The vocation is primary. If you start trying to fit your vocation inside your occupation you've got your priorities out of order. I wrote more about this here and here.
July 21, 2009 at 3:20 pm
Great post. Write More stay at home Dad stories…you must have read the art of conversation and this post too:
http://artofmanliness.com/2009/06/14/manvotional-george-washingtons-rules-of-civility-and-decent-behavior-in-company-and-conversation/
July 21, 2009 at 3:23 pm
Congratulations on all that.
Perhaps in future you might, on your sure-to-be-empty park bench, take to reading Emily Post or better, Judith Martin. Her nom-de-plume is "Miss Manners". She is a writer that understands that that which can appear as comedy in print does not always indicate comity in conversation.
July 21, 2009 at 3:35 pm
Looked up "druthers" by the way… it is a transformed contraction of "would rather," first identified in 1875.
July 21, 2009 at 3:41 pm
I've got all my druthers, too!!!And I would totally be asking you about your blog if we ever met on a playground 🙂
Thankfully, most of our friends are also large Catholic homeschooling families…it helps,
but yes there are times when avoiding those conversations is difficult.
My best friend is just finding out how little the "work-force" means when you have a little one in your arms…she just wishes that she could stay home a little longer…
I'm praying for her.
July 21, 2009 at 3:54 pm
I think one of the greatest challenges of being a Christian is that God expects us to get our druthers every day. He challenges us and enables us to fulfill HIS will for our lives. And that's the most fulfilling path of all.
Unfortunately, most people in the world haven't figured that out yet.
July 21, 2009 at 4:41 pm
Really thought-provoking. I'm a SAHM and the transition was very hard. I do the "previous life" narrative sometimes. One reason for it is that it's a safer topic than child rearing! Moms who talk about their abandoned careers are choosing a topic that's usually as safe as sports commentary among men, whereas whether or not my kids watch TV or eat sugar is loaded with landmines! Implied criticism! Greater ideological divides than those separating Reagan and Obama!
Xena Catolica
July 21, 2009 at 6:15 pm
Matt, good on ya for your honest, if odd-ball, guy-like musings.
I've never come close to looking for my druthers, as my "round tu-its" seem to, ahem, take up my time.
July 21, 2009 at 7:10 pm
Didn't you hear? They raised taxes on druthers. Nobody will have any of them left at this rate.
July 21, 2009 at 7:31 pm
Love the story/reflection! And a great way to reclaim the bench….
Peace,
Father Maurer
July 21, 2009 at 8:00 pm
I really enjoyed this, Go Crips!!
July 22, 2009 at 12:12 am
Hehe, sounds like a phenomena the geek table noticed– we'd have only two or three spots open, so the first geeks there would take them, and start our usual conversations — relative merits of D20 vs a D6 RPG, Tri-stat vs skill sets, pen and paper vs video games, or "who would win" chats.
There'd be a buffer zone of two or three seats on either side of the geeks by the time anyone else go there. *grin*
July 22, 2009 at 3:56 am
Before I married, I told my husband I would like the option to stay home should God bless us with children. He just wants me to be happy, he replied. I've been happy for seventeen years. He's a good man.
July 22, 2009 at 1:09 pm
I prefer the French attitude…asking about careers is considered very impolite, as it implies that you are conversing with someone because of his or her salary level or professional connections, not because the person is a good conversationalist.
I have quite a few acquaintances I've known for years but have no idea what they do outside the dance studio waiting area. I don't know if they work or stay home with their children. We talk all the time…but not about careers.
Before becoming a SAHM, I had ten different (and diverse!) jobs…talking about them is an excellent way to clear a park bench, trust me! (Let's see, there was my DRE job, and my substitute teacher job, and…)
See, it works!
July 22, 2009 at 3:47 pm
This is a fault that women frequently fall into, myself included. I remember, I used to introduce myself when I had one or two or three, as a former special educator/graduate student…And a stay at home mom. Now, it's fun to watch people's jaws drop –I'm a stay at home Mom of 9.
But I would have snorted diet coke with the druthers comment.