Liberation from the Bottom Up

By Carol Epstein

Three and one half years ago I sat in a tub full of water while talking with my husband about the months ahead. We were anticipating becoming parents. We hoped our child would become assertive, creative, and caring, growing up under the solid influence of feminist, socialist role models-us, of course! We felt that our behavior would speak much louder than our words. So we had to come to grips with who we were.

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Quite naively, prior to conception, we had agreed that we would share child-raising as equally as we could. In the early months of pregnancy, we spoke dreamily of a balanced life: father would somehow collapse a 40-60 hour work week into 20; and mother would skip merrily from breastfeeding to school to work. Our child would eventually develop into a sensitive, wise person whose pioneer parents had offered, as it is said in child psychology literature, a positive alternative to the gendered way in which most children grow up.

Back to the bathtub. I heard my husband indistinctly mutter that he just didn't know how he could work part-time as a media producer and keep his business going. As a nurse, I had assumed that we would each work part-time; suddenly, I realized that maybe we could not. I felt angry. He's just like all men, who just don't want to change diapers, push a stroller, or crank up the music box on the mobile for the twentieth time. He's threatened by the thought of losing his role as breadwinner. I splashed water on myself and submerged almost every part of me. Somehow I felt cornered. It seemed that it was up to me alone to figure out how I could live a full life and still become a mother.

The Exclusiveness of Breastfeeding

The issue of equal parenting became more sharply defined when our little cherub was born. Like intelligent parents we opted for breastfeeding and figured it would be incorporated quite naturally into the flow of our daily routine. The we in theory quickly became me in reality, because nursing plays such a central role in an infant's life. Especially if the baby refuses a relief bottle.

My husband felt estranged by the overpowering connection our baby had for nursing. He was observed, even scrutinized, by various women, while humbly trying to coax our baby into accepting the bottle, i.e., accepting him. He was given suggestions about his posture, demeanor, the milk's temperature, and the timing of the feeding. He often felt resentful when I, wrapped up in my own feelings, expressed that I no longer had the freedom of movement I once had. It was an obvious breeding ground for tension.

Only with a sincere attempt at sharing feelings and listening carefully to each other were we able to survive our first stressful months of family life. To make this attempt requires, of course, actual time to talk. Which is not exactly plentiful if both parents are trying to keep up their personal interests. It is more like the dilemma of shift workers who relieve each other at designated times. The focus of the exchange is pared down to essentials, like when did the baby sleep last, how's the diaper rash, what's defrosted for dinner, and when the next load of diapers is ready for the dryer.

Who Cleans the Ears?

The details of infant care also injected conflict into our daily life. Although a lesbian couple raising a child may find differences in the ways in which their mothers taught them aspects of child care, the potential for differences between men and women is greater. Most men didn't learn the details at all. The endless stream of clothing repairs, the ears which

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need cleaning, the nails which need clipping, are tasks which come to mind. My husband could learn how to do them, and often did. Yet, we each had different standards for good care. This is a problem we keep coming back to.

The Trials of Housework

Housework-repetitive in nature, producing no tangible product, and traditionally assigned to women-is more likely to become an issue if both partners are interested in breaking down old sexist ground rules. And with children it mushrooms! 1 hear many women, even feminists, complain that it's a lot easier to do the housework themselves. Men don't know how to really clean, they say. Vacuum cleaner in hand, they steamroll through the house. They hate to dust. They neglect the details, like cobwebs clinging to ceilings and the crud behind the toilet. Squabbles over these details usually end in useless name-calling. The man suggests that the woman's just being compulsive, middle-class, or avoiding the real important projects she should accomplish. The woman exclaims that the man is being defensive, lazy or hopeless. While the names fly, the fact remains that the issue exists and needs to be solved. All of us grow up encouraged or discouraged

J'Peterson

LNS

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from paying attention to activities such housework. It's one of those things which got done, by somebody, but actual discussion of it most likely never happened.

When we create our own family, however, our early patterns may re-emerge. The problem of who does what, for how long and how well, presents itself again, but this time in a feminist context. My husband and I discussed the problem as we would any other conflict. Would the world really end if the windows weren't washed? Could the houseworker try to notice the less obvious things which needed attention? After a time, we decided to do the housework together, beginning and ending at the same time. If one person was finished with the vacuuming first, then he or she helped the other finish his/her work. Working as a team lessens the time required for housework and makes it feel less tedious, Who's the Victim? Who's the Culprit?

Central to this entire discussion of parenting is the degree to which we feel fulfilled by the choices we make. It is very easy for a feminist who may also be a parent, student, and/or worker to burn out. Women think about the compromises our mothers made by postponing careers and projects. Sometimes we try to "do it all" by pushing harder. Although it is now more socially acceptable for women to raise children

in the context of a fuller life, people still ask how much time the mother, not the father, spends with her infant. The issue of "blaming the victim" for her "selfish" desires injects an element of guilt-unfair, but still felt by well-meaning mothers. Guilt does not help someone solve problems effectively. It can lead to feelings of depression or anger. At the very least it creates confusion.

There are those who ask the mother, not the father, if she is "just staying at home" these days. with the children. I often feel caught in the middle, trying to sort out what I want for myself and my family.

On a deeper level there remains the question of how much time an infant needs from a primary care giver to get a good start in life. We only know from research that in the first year an infant needs "quality time" (not quantity) from one consistent primary figure, even in a collective childcare setting. But we don't know how much time is involved. We also know that a child raised by a satisfied person is more likely to grow into an independent, sociable adult capable of problem-solving. I felt sensitive to how I would provide "quality time" to both of our children. The term refers to giving full attention to an infant's needs for normal growth and development on a consistent basis. We don't know how much attention this entails, but I assume it means providing it each day. Women are usually the ones who decide if and when they will begin allocating their time beyond that given to mothering. When I began this process I felt very concerned with whether each decision made met this need for my children. Because I was the primary care giver who did not return to work fulltime, I felt solely responsible. Since my husband was not the primary person, his return to work felt natural, guilt-free, and relatively free of ambivalent feelings. I took the initiative to explore alternative sources of child care and make arrangements for it. As a result I felt that the responsibility in ensuring quality time rested on my shoulders. I was the person who initiated discussions about when, where, and how child care would be managed. I feel the problem actually rests with both parents, even if one person is not directly affected by the changes involved in this decision-making process.

Feminists often complain that although men now seem willing to deal with emotional concerns, women are still the ones who initiate the discussions and take the risks involved in doing so. It seems this problem extends into the area of child care too. If men took an active role in child care, i.e., if they were directly affected by it, they would quickly become more sensitive to the subject and be in a better position to initiate discussion about it. Full-time workers who work inflexible schedules can still find creative ways to get involved on their time off, too. Otherwise, women will continue to bear the burden of responsibility for problem solving, a process which begins by identyifying that a problem exists.

The Missing Piece of the Puzzle

All of this would become fairly manageable if parents existed in a vacuum and simply needed to brush up on problem-solving and communication skills. Yet we live in a society that demands perfection and achievement from its citizens without any clear recognition of the care, time, and skills that are required to produce it. While expectations are extremely high, the resources allocated to produce results are minimal. Corporations and hospitals in their own self-interest are just beginning to provide on-site child care facilities. As usual, women have had to initiate the dialogue needed to get the movement underway. But the issue of value and deeds goes much deeper than random efforts to "help out". While some societies place a high value on child care at the societal level and it even includes the mother as the consistent, primary figure, in our country it still remains the individual family's responsibility to identify, analyze, and solve the problems which in actuality belong to everybody.