Perhaps by way of example, I can provide an insight into the busyness of the last week or two by describing the number of messes we’ve had to clean up this evening. Firstly, there was wine glass that smashed when the box of straws were being pulled from the cupboard. The straws were destined to go into the banana smoothies that the kids were having for dessert. Glass went everywhere. Quite possibly into the waiting smoothies, so not only did the bench have to be cleaned up but the shakes had to be remade.

Then there was the glass of port that was knocked over, all over the computer desk and keyboard. And lastly the dog knocked over a couple of pot plants, smashing one ceramic pot and getting potting mix in the basket of clean washing that was sitting below the coffee table upon which the plants had been placed.

We are supposed to be celebrating tonight, for today the final hard bound copy of my thesis was submitted this morning. Finally. For it has been a long, slow journey. (I started in 2001, close to ten years ago. I studied part-time, deferred at one point, had two kids. My thesis was a very stop/start enterprise. But, it’s done now, truly done and dusted). Apparently it will all be official next week when I receive the letter that declares that I’ve officially qualified for the degree of PhD. (Woohoo, WOOT! And all that jazz!).

So this morning while I was somewhat preoccupied with the lovely bound copies of my thesis that I received yesterday and had to get to the right office today, our dog was taken to the vet to be desexed. In the extra rushed morning rush I completely forgot to send with my daughter the music for the song she had chosen to sing in today’s audition. She was trying out for her school’s talent show that is being held next week. It wasn’t until I pulled up at school to pick her up this afternoon that it dawned on me that she’d gone to school without it. As she came out of the gate I apologised, but was complimented by one of the teachers on her strong clear voice. Apparently, she had gotten up and managed to sing “A whole new world” fairly well without any musical accompaniment. Phew. So she made it through the audition, and will be singing in next week’s show, with or without the music, the choice is hers.

So the beagle has been inside all evening (knocking things over due to his surgery collar) while he recovers from his operation, so we decided not to go out to celebrate the finally submitted thesis. Perhaps festive season fatigue is also factor in our decision to keep things low key tonight. We had the lad’s Christmas concert last night, my work Xmas party tomorrow night and my husband’s the following night.

So I’m sharing my news with you tonight. It still feels surreal at the moment. It’s kinda hard to get excited right now. I mean, I’m quietly excited. That’s the problem with being as laid back as I am, excitement is more of a slow burn than an intense flare.

I just said to my husband “I’m hoping next week’s letter makes it feel real. I still feel as if someone could pull the rug out from under me, like I haven’t crossed my “i’s” and dotted my “t’s”. ” He replied “There’s your problem, you crossed where you should have dotted and dotted where you should have crossed”. Oh Frack!

Anyhow, enough from me. I hope that the silly season is not wearing you right out and that joy, friendship and love come your way. If you need some good reading, please check out the latest Down Under Feminists Carnival, its full (as usual) of feminist goodness and awesome writing. My current plan is to finish my glass of port and get a good night’s sleep. Night!

One lovely thing that happens in this area is the various Christmas markets that take place in the lead up to the festive season. So I took the family and we went into the city for tonight’s Red Lantern Night Markets and we had a very nice time. Good food, funky stalls; I even had a rickshaw ride with my daughter. Fun. So we’d been there a couple of hours and were just about to head home, when my husband run into an ex-student. As they chatted I spied a store that I’d been wanting to check out for a while and ducked in with the kids. The shop was new and funky and set up with families in mind. There were toys around and shop was selling handmade kids clothes, and vintage adult clothes, as well as cute accessories. So, you know, it was the kind of place my funky ideal self would shop at. (Not being this self, maybe I shouldn’t have gone in there).

I’d been carrying my son on my hip; he was tired. Upon entering I saw a groovy leather lounge set up with kid’s cushions, so I put the boy on this couch and explained I was going to look through the merchandise. He was reluctant to be put down but convinced by the cute car shaped cushions. My daughter liked the vibe of the place and was happy to look around. She found a rocking horse and was safely and contentedly occupied. I was browsing through some rather groovy clothes when I heard my daughter tell her brother that he had to share. I turned to see him grab the cushions away from a younger child who was coming to the lounge. Unimpressed with the lad’s behaviour I headed over to the couch to sort the situation. Meanwhile the toddler’s (presumed) father was watching on from a distant corner, and loudly commented about my son’s unwillingness to share. His partner, who was at the lounge with their little boy tried to shush him, but the more she shushed and said it didn’t matter, the louder the man got. “It does matter, look he’s grabbed all three of the cushions”. (His tone was louder and more cutting than this innocuous remark would suggest). I hurried over, and in the time it took me to get to my four year old boy and quietly remind him that the toys were for everyone, not just for him, this stranger had loudly and accusingly made several (to my mind) completely unnecessary remarks to/about my son. The lad handed over a toy cushion to other child without complaining and I was able to return to my shopping.

I hadn’t been impressed with my lad’s behaviour but had roles been reversed and it was my child being denied playthings by another child I wouldn’t have been commenting on the other child’s behaviour. It probably wouldn’t have even struck me as something worth commenting on, as in my experience, casual selfishness is fairly normal behaviour in small children*, especially when you get close to bed time. What annoyed me about the man’s attitude was the assholishness of it. The more his partner tried to quieten him and not make a big deal, the bigger deal he made – he got louder and more obnoxious, over something that was pretty trivial. She was clearly not bothered by my boy, and was embarrassed and discomforted by her partner’s persistence. His little boy wasn’t even perturbed by my boy’s (unfortunate) actions. His attitude would have been perhaps understandable if his boy had responded to the initial non-sharing with a whooper of a tantrum, but the boy hardly seemed to care.

This gentleman’s (I use the term loosely) attitude made me uncomfortable, and I realised later what I should said to the man. I could have politely reminded him, that my son is only four and still learning social etiquette, but that it appeared to be too late for him.

Ha! I wish I had the guts to say something like to someone. I am (as you may have gathered) a non-confrontational person, hence an anonymous blog post being directed at a complete stranger whom I hope to never have the displeasure of seeing again.

I do wonder why people have to be so judgmental in regard to children, and hold children to such high standards in public. Had it been an adult with three magazines would anyone felt entitled to make loud commentary on their behaviour? Kids are kids, and sometimes have to be reminded what the right way to behave is. And sometimes adults could do with that reminder too.

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*and so is unselfishness, empathy and other wonderful behaviours. Our role as our children’s primary socialisers is to cultivate the positive traits and minimise the normal but not-so pleasant traits. And to do this in a manner that is not harmful to the child.** (Doesn’t sound easy when it’s put like that?)

**A task that parents/carers would find much easier in a supportive and non-judgmental environment.

As she gets older I notice how different she is to me as a child. Which of course is to be expected, as she is her own person. But our differences in temperament are so stark I wonder whether my parenting style clashes with her personality. We’ve had our moments, shall we say, and there has been times when I question myself.

She was sent to her room, punished for some misdemeanor – probably she was accused of doing wrong by her sibling. In her mind the punishment was entirely undeserved, this was a travesty of justice. She sat in her room seething with the injustice of it all, it was so unfair. The time in confinement was spent devising suitable punishments for her horrible mother who had so unfairly treated her. The perfect vengeance was imagined – her mother was a witch. She would like to lock the witch in a cage and feed her poison for two weeks, not enough poison to kill her, but enough to make her suffer for a while. I don’t know why, but the vengeance fantasy took the sting out of the punishment, and so calmed her that when she was called from her room, having been there for what was considered to be an appropriate amount of time, she not only apologised to mother but confessed the fantasy. She said that she was so angry that she’d wanted to punish her mother and had imagined what she’d like to do. She honestly explained to her mother about wanting to lock her in a cage and feed her poison, but she’d changed her mind, was sorry for whatever it was that had gotten her sent to her room and wanted to be friends with Mum again. A nice reconciliation took place.

That was me many years ago, plotting to lock up my mother. I can no longer remember what it was I was in trouble for, but I do remember telling mum exactly what I’d wanted to do and how angry I’d been. I think she was shocked at my honesty. We forgave each other and I don’t remember ever having such strong vengeful desires towards my mother after that. I also grew out of believing in fairy tale type punishments.

When I recently remembered that incident from my childhood I figured that I’m probably doing ok with my daughter. As far as I know she’s never harbored a desire to poison me, or lock me up in a cage.

*Cough, Cough* Hmm, dusty.

What’s been happening?

Is that…? -  Yes, I do believe that’s tumbleweed.

*Clears tumbleweed, chases down dust bunnies, frantically tidies*

Ok, here we are. So yeah, I have rather neglected this blog haven’t I? Turned my back on it, done other things, seen other people, been busy and all that. So what have I been up that has kept me so occupied that I haven’t summoned the energy to comment on the election? Which, incidentally has produced an eminently interesting result, even through at this point (two weeks post-election) we are still not sure what that result is.

Well there’s been a range of things occupying my time and my mind.

You may know that I started full time (paid) work in February. Well, this full time employment gig keeps you busy doesn’t it? Having never worked in a full time salaried position before I expected this to be a shock to my system but really the busyness has actually been less than the proceeding months in which I completed the PhD thesis. Yes, I don’t know whether I mentioned it or not, but I handed in the thesis on the same day that I started my job. Probably not the best way to start but there you go, that’s the way it happened.

So what was it like submitting the thesis, this thing that I’d been labouring inconsistently over for the better part of nine years? Anticlimactic, truth be told.  (It was handed in 6 and a half months ago, and I haven’t yet heard how I’ve gone, so that’s a little…annoying, shall we say).

*****

In other things you do that keep  you away from blogging, we moved house in June. It was the 26th of June. Two days after Australia got its first female PM. The house that we moved out off we returned to a week later and spent the next two weeks painting, renovating, removing junk from, and generally preparing for market (all the while I was still juggling the full time jig, it just doesn’t conveniently fade away when one has other priorities does it?). Anyway, in news to make you sigh with relief, that house was promptly sold (and settled yesterday actually, so yay, we no longer have pay two mortgages).

I may sound flippant about move and the sell but I’m quietly sad. It was our first house – a charming two bedroom miners cottage. A dump when we moved in, and nicely restored inside when we moved out. When we bought it, we intended to be there maybe five years. Then we thought we’d buy something bigger and start our family.  Well, of course, best laid plans and all that jazz. We ended up staying eight and a half years, and twelve months after we moved in I fell pregnant. So when we moved out it was with two kids and a dog and an excess of stuff. The kids and the stuff necessitated the purchase of, and move to a bigger place.

Been here in the new house for the last two and a half months and it still doesn’t quite feel like home, yet. I’m sure that’ll change. My daughter loves it here. She now has her own room and thinks that this larger house, with the nicer outlook and the handy proximity to a park is the best place in the world (Ahhhh, to look at the world with the eyes of a child – I look at this house and I see another house that needs major renovation work).

My son is not so happy. He keeps asking to ‘go home’. The morning after we moved in, we awoke to the sounds of his sobbing and he told his father that he was scared. Then he vomited all over me. And I thought to myself, “Yep, we are officially moved in now”. (Doesn’t everyone christen a new house with some sort of bodily fluid?, actually don’t think deeply on that question, it was silly and a bit dirty). It takes a drama to make a house yours, and our first drama arrived less than 24 hours after we did.

*******

There’s been other stuff too. “Issues” you might say. IRL deterioration of a precious relationship which has tainted blogging. So rather than blog, I’ve spent the last few months lurking in my fav places (see the blogroll if you can’t contain your curiousity),  and on twitter and improving my bejewelled stats. You know, concentrating on the important things. And keeping up with that shit is really tiring you know. Exhausting actually.

*****

In other news we got a puppy. This is Billy.

Billy

“Drug addicts and welfare cheats can go out there and get themselves pregnant and then after 20 weeks have an abortion and still pocket the Government’s cash,” he said.

Family First Senator Steve Fielding has been condemned by other senators for suggesting women might have an abortion after 20 weeks to try to claim paid parental leave.

I have to wonder if you are serious – do you really believe that women are cunning and calculating enough to get pregnant, then have a late-term abortion, then claim that it was a stillbirth and then OMG! shamelessly take the government’s money. Kinda a lot to go through for the minimum wage for 18 weeks, I mean, the supposed diabolical pregnancy would last longer than the cash flow.

But perhaps you are serious, after your religion has inculcated you with the belief that women are responsible for the entry of evil into the world, and I suppose that if that’s the basis of your twisted logic, I can see how you might seriously think that masses of evil women could rort the system in such a manner. Seriously, though, when Barnaby Joyce is telling you that what you are doing is contemptuous [perhaps he meant contemptible?] then perhaps you really should take a long hard look at yourself.

I wholeheartedly agree with News with Nipples who awarded you the Tony Abbott Budgie Smuggler award for Excellence in the Field of Misogyny. So take your award and go listen to the angels.

Now.

I suspect – as we have seen before when high profile people get named (such as his brother, who could forget that episode?) – that Andrew Johns will be a symbolic scapegoat for systemic attitudes that he alone is not responsible for. So he’ll be scrapped from his job, hidden out from the public eye (or maybe not), and later, months down the track when people forget exactly what he said he’ll reappear (like his brother and that god awful show) unchanged, and unrepentant.

But in the meantime, let’s not forget that Timana Tahu, stood up, and walked away from, the racist bullying tactics of not his enemies, but his friends.

One thing that irks me though, is that the NRL hierarchy seems to find it easy to disavow racism and make it clear that its not acceptable. If only they could be that intolerant (heck I’d settle for even recognition) of sexism and misogyny.

Men doing chores reduces divorce risk: study

Divorce rates are lower in families in which husbands help out with the housework, shopping and child care, according to a study of 3,500 British couples.

The research by the London School of Economics, entitled Men’s Unpaid Work and Divorce, found that the more husbands helped out, the lower the incidence of divorce.

The study said its conclusions blew open the theory patriarchal myth running since (at least!) the 1960s that marriages were most stable when men focused on paid work and women were responsible for housework.

“The lowest-risk combination is one in which the mother does not work participate in the paid work-force and the father engages in the highest level of housework and child care,” the study found.

I just *love* how that last sentence typifies the way in which mother’s unpaid labour is constantly being rendered invisible. In reporting about a study entitled “Men’s Unpaid Work and Divorce” they can not make clear the distinction between women’s unpaid and paid work – rather only counting paid work as ‘work’ (wow, how special is men’s unpaid work – it gets counted and measured while women’s doesn’t even exist!), even when the results suggest that when men help out with the unpaid work it decreases a couple’s chance of divorce.

Of course, while revealing nothing all that surprising, the study itself continues to reinforce heternormality and the privilege accorded to marriage above other forms of relationship by its lack of investigation into any other form of long-term partnership.

Edited to Add: What is also entirely unsurprising is the fact that with the article ending – “The lowest-risk combination is one in which the mother does not work and the father engages in the highest level of housework and child care” the comments thread on the story was riddled with comments such as:

agnesal: So if mum gets to sit at home all day eating chocolates and dad goes to work then comes home and does the majority of the house work, mum will be happy and less likely to file for divorce. Now there’s a surprise.

JW: So the marriages where the women do the least and the men the most last the longest – sounds like these people need some lessons in shared responsibility. I’m guessing these guys are also the most henpecked.

And I am disappointed. Not disappointed for myself, I am not directly affected. My life is both comfortable and safe. My relationship has long been deemed worthy by the state and is privileged by virtue of marriage and heteronormality. But what about the relationships of my youngest sibling, the one who had to flee our small town for the bright lights of the big city in order to survive? Why can’t the future partnership in that life be deemed worthy of recognition, privilege, protection?

I know that not all of those in homosexual relationships want marriage. I know in some circles its seen as irredeemably conservative, patriarchal and exploitative. But I also know that there are many couples who desire to have the love of their lives recognised as such. Who wish to celebrate their partnerships with a publicly recognised ceremony. Who wish to have their relationships validated as marriage. Who by virtue of the fact that the person that they share their life with is the same sex as them, their commitment to one another is not seen as being worthy of being ‘marriage’.

I believe that by recognising same-sex relationships in marriage, the relationship of same sex couples who choose not to marry are also validated, as the option would be there even if they chose not to take it up. They would be free to reject marriage, rather than be rejected by it. The privilege accorded to heterosexuality would be challenged.

Right now, the Rudd government is attempting to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to the vexed issue of same-sex marriage. On the one hand, the conservatives are being appeased. Marriage is deemed to be ‘sacred’ and ‘natural’ and is defined in law as being between a man and a woman (doubtless in that order). On the other hand, laws have been changed so that same sex relationships are recognised and a accorded a sort-of pseudo equality (with hetero relationships) before the law, that falls well short of being understood as marriage. (This situation is not without its critics). It seems pretty cowardly to me. For tax purposes, same-sex relationships count, so the State benefits.  In addition, to some extent, our human rights obligations are fulfilled as many forms of legal discrimination and inequality have been dismantled. But in regards to marriage, and the attendant status and privilege, the state will not extend these benefits to same-sex relationship. You know what, almost equality is not equality.

Here’s a list of how the Senators voted, so you know who to excoriate write to to express anger and disappointment.