When The Rats Are Away

Living in my bed

I'm on Christmas break and my kids are in Southern California. Yesterday I didn't get out of bed till 2pm. I spent most of that time looking at mansions on RedFin. After the boredom became painful, I rolled out of bed to go running. I was able to maintain my recluse status because I pulled the laundry off the treadmill, and stayed glued to my devices, watching First Wives Club while I ran. I had an epiphany; my mom is Glodie Hawn, my older sister is Bette Midler, my little sister is Diane Keaton, and I am Stockard Channing's lovely stationary.
After showering, I went to the movies and watched Disaster Artist, then picked up fettuccine alfredo and lemon raspberry cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory, and climbed back in bed and ate it all while I watched ten episodes of Girlfriends Guide to Divorce.

I find myself texting their dad more frequently and cooking up stupid plans, that I regret suggesting moments after pushing send, like, "Hey, how about I meet you in LA and we take the kids to Disney?!" or "How about we pool our funds and buy a house that accommodates all of us, but provides separate space?!" He doesn't think they're great plans.

I probably wasn't a great wife, but whatever. I made my kids a priority, and I think that's something I should be proud of. I'm sorry I don't buy into all that bullshit about makeup and blow jobs to keep my man happy. He can fucking slog through it all like me, and I'm allowed to look as tired as he is.
I was definitely not a great girlfriend, because I wasn't fully committed. I even fell in love with someone else. Then it turned into this sad cliche, where I spent downtime skimming through social media sites to keep up to date. He became a thorn in my side, something I'd always contend as better, greener grass, without any basis.
I feel lucky to have married, I don't think I had the balls to be myself until I was bound to another. My husband is a great person, a good friend, he supported me in many ways, and taught me how to be level headed and kind, after growing up in a group of passionate hot-heads.
I'm not ruling out the possibility of marrying for a very selfish reason, oh my goodness did I want a baby like crazy when I hit 25. It's too bad this notion is perpetuated; First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. If women felt empowered to have kids when their ovaries start dropping eggs like a piñata splaying candy as it undulates from a tree branch, we'd only better ourselves.
Imagine the control we'd have if as a tradeoff to have children, we weren't conditioned to relinquish all our power; give up our name, give up our jobs, and most stupidly, reprioritize our goals to become self-obsessed, beauty-obsessed, image-obsessed, instead of thinking fuck all this bullshit, I'm just going to love my kid like crazy, and I'll support my partner in much more meaningful ways than staying pretty, acting subservient, or feeling obligated to provide pleasure and confidence boosts.

I reflected on what someone wrote recently about matriarchical societies, and how humans are like whales, and that makes sense. The child is raised within the female community, and yes, the father is critical for identity, but it is not necessary for rearing a newborn. Childrearing is not a man's game, so all this bullshit about A to B to get to that C, for Child, could be avoided. Some men are great parents for young babies, and can swoop up their child with the same type of energy as a mom, but not all. They can get to know the kid on a deeper level when the kid is over 5 and able to be amongst the grown ups.

All of this sounds like I took advantage of their dad, and I didn't. I was truly conditioned, and drank up all that twenty-something propaganda that marriage will bring happiness. I was depressed in my early twenties, and I think it was my baby knocking. I like to tell my kids, I missed you my whole life, and now I am so happy were together. I got the happiness, but I have an added step, going from C to D, for divorce.
When I look at these beautiful mansions on RedFin, I imagine my kids' dad having his own wing, or possibly a tiny home in the back yard. We can both have our own room and office, and share the gym. Ok, we need our own kitchen and bathrooms because he is sort of gross. We can be together in a different way than marriage entails, be a strong support system for our kids and each other.
This might be fear-based, I can't let him go, or I worry that I need him to be able to be my best self. He doesn't need me telling him his pee drips on the floor around the toilet, and I don't need him telling me to lay off the super burritos (yeah, that shit is annoying as fuck). I'm having a hard time letting go.

A lot of specialists frown upon devices and blame social media for the lack of connectivity in the world, but I completely disagree with it. I think it's the fault of our social structure which promotes the isolation of women, you can have the one thing you want most, after I lock you away (it sounds drastic, but it is so true). Look what is happening now that women seek each other out through social media, we've made huge strides this year, 2017. It could have been propelled by a president who sees our worth in terms of beauty and pussy grabbing, but we are able to find each other and tell these people to go fuck themselves, were not going to take it.

One day women will get from A to C without having to do B. Damn, I could wrap this argument up nicely if the second letter of the alphabet was M. Women love babies, of course not all, but it's in our DNA, and so when were conditioned as children that in order to fulfill or natural instinct we need to literally give ourselves away, its robbery. We've been assaulted on a psychological level.

I am grateful for my partner, grateful for the thorn in my side, grateful for the prospect of now getting to see what step D has in store. Tonight, after I got out of bed at 5pm, I walked around the corner to eat dinner at a restaurant, and I thought of my grandpa and how he must have felt after my grandma died. I completely believe in partnership, it's wonderful and beautiful, but I don't believe it needs to be part of the baby making equation.