An ABC News article posted on Yahoo!'s home page caught my eye a week or so ago. The first blurb suggested something like: "Men find doing housework pays off in bedroom."
Believe it or not, I was too busy at the time to follow that teaser, and when I looked for it later the tagline had changed to: "Study: Men doing more housework." Hmm, what was up here? Had the guys learned of the connection between sex and chores and made news?
No, it was one and the same study, cited by the Council on Contemporary Families. I guess someone complained that the study gave no details on the frequency of marital relations, so the teaser line on Yahoo! changed midday.
Even without the titillating details, it is an interesting piece of research. It claims that men have doubled the amount of time they spent on household tasks in the past 50 years. Now anyone beyond first grade knows that zero doubled is still zero, but that's not what this study indicated.
Nooo, it states that since the 1960s men have increased participation in household tasks to 30 percent! Consequently, women reported spending a whopping two hours less on housework than they used to. My goodness, aren't the guys turning into such big helpers.
The area that has shown the greatest change is child care, where men claim to have tripled their participation in their children's lives. Women, incidentally, also have doubled the amount of time they spend involved in child care, indicating an overall change in how involved parents are in their children's lives today. I guess we've figured out that kids don't raise themselves after all.
Again, this is interesting stuff but there are some major gaps. My brief stint in graduate school gave me just enough information on scholarly research to figure out that this was not original research, but a literature review. Thus, there were no details of exactly how the researchers, a fellow from California and two from Israel, came to the conclusion that men are now doing more of what most women would call their fair share of the household chores.
How did the researchers determine this great trend? Was it self-reported data? I figure that it was probably a telephone survey or something asking "how much time do you spend on housework?" That would explain the big change: Men lie, oh excuse me, I meant exaggerate; women don't remember.
Think about it: If someone called and asked how much time you spent on housework, would you remember each packet of minutes involved in those mundane tasks of everyday life? For the person who really does the work, it would be utterly depressing to think that you'd spent probably the equivalent of a whole day each week on laundry, cooking, shopping, taking care of kids, etc. But today's sensitive male would likely boast that he'd done hours and hours of housework. Even if it was just folding socks while watching golf.
As for the prurient aspect, the article did report that when men do more of the housework, women's perceptions of fairness and marital satisfaction rise and the couple experiences less marital conflict. There's a no-brainer for you.
I'd like to continue with this fascinating discussion, but my husband just finished the dishes.....
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Let's hope
Hope. It is such a difficult thing.
I've never thought of myself as Pollyanna, but I do prefer to hope for the best rather than expect the worst.
Tuesday's caucus offered me justification for such an attitude. Thousands of people turned out in support of not just the candidate I support, but the process of democracy. It was exhilarating!
Of course, I have to be prepared to be bitten in the butt, as has happened in so many other elections. Four years ago, by the time the process came to Colorado, the choice had been made and it wasn't mine. But I believed in the system so I stood in the November cold and made sure people had the chance to cast a vote for the lesser of two evils.
Lo and behold, the candidate was leading by the time I left the gathering of other voting-rights activists. The joy was short-lived, though. By the time I got home, the fix was in -- vote tampering or last-minute rush of Bush supporters we'll never know. Took a few days to be able to sit comfortably with that disappointment.
So this time I was not going to get involved. As much as I relish the idea of a First Gentleman (presumably the equivalent of First Lady) and a woman leading the country, I could not throw much support behind the politics-as-usual approach.
And then who should burst onto the scene, laying waste to my diffidence? A politician addressing my very issues with a message of hope. People may disagree about policies and opinions and whatever but almost everyone agrees Barack Obama is one smart fellow.
That, if nothing else, gives me hope. And the fact that no matter what, in less than 350 days, the person running the country will not be named George.
I've never thought of myself as Pollyanna, but I do prefer to hope for the best rather than expect the worst.
Tuesday's caucus offered me justification for such an attitude. Thousands of people turned out in support of not just the candidate I support, but the process of democracy. It was exhilarating!
Of course, I have to be prepared to be bitten in the butt, as has happened in so many other elections. Four years ago, by the time the process came to Colorado, the choice had been made and it wasn't mine. But I believed in the system so I stood in the November cold and made sure people had the chance to cast a vote for the lesser of two evils.
Lo and behold, the candidate was leading by the time I left the gathering of other voting-rights activists. The joy was short-lived, though. By the time I got home, the fix was in -- vote tampering or last-minute rush of Bush supporters we'll never know. Took a few days to be able to sit comfortably with that disappointment.
So this time I was not going to get involved. As much as I relish the idea of a First Gentleman (presumably the equivalent of First Lady) and a woman leading the country, I could not throw much support behind the politics-as-usual approach.
And then who should burst onto the scene, laying waste to my diffidence? A politician addressing my very issues with a message of hope. People may disagree about policies and opinions and whatever but almost everyone agrees Barack Obama is one smart fellow.
That, if nothing else, gives me hope. And the fact that no matter what, in less than 350 days, the person running the country will not be named George.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Ch-ch-ch-change
In my previous entry, I alluded to some thoughts for a blog entry on change. It was sidetracked/derailed by the demands of motherhood but has continued to burble about in my brain.
As I look out onto the mountains, I see that change is a-coming, weather-wise. The two days of spring-like temps are going to yield to what looks like a snowstorm arriving a little sooner than expected. Evening flurries was the forecast upon which I encouraged my son to bike to school this morning. Oops!
On a grander scale, though, the election year brings on change as a major theme. Everyone I know (in this protected Boulder bubble) is more than ready for a presidential change, and many of us are cautiously hopeful at the fresh face of the Democratic candidates. A woman and a person of mixed race --wow, now that's change. I don't think even MLK could have thought we'd come this far this fast. (Not that the work of social justice and civil rights is complete by any means.)
It is of course too early to tell what might happen in the presidential arena, but at least it is good to see diversity in the candidates. Given the past two performances, there is no guarantee of anything in our electoral system.
From the macro to the micro, I am often in awe of how change manifests itself within our own individual lives. Having our now-adult daughter home for the holidays started me thinking in this direction. To watch a person grow up is an incomparable joy (tinged with some sorrow at times), and our daughter is certainly breaking out of her cocoon into a quite amazing butterfly. For example, I mentioned summer vacation plans and she quickly snipped, "I am going to have to work this summer." Spring break at home was dismissed right off. What was I thinking?
But the most personally relevant change is the one I remember hearing my mother and her peers talk about oh-so-many years ago. "Oh, she's going through the CHANGE," they would whisper. It all sounded so mysterious and scary. Will she grow horns? Turn green and wrinkly? What is this change that seems to happen to women of a certain age?
As I near that age, I approach it with very mixed feelings. Of course, there is the uncertainty of how my body will react to the hormonal swings. Whether I will be a candidate for the various hormone replacement therapies is yet to be discussed. It is all so confusing--one study says they may prevent one cancer but another suggests they may promote a different one. What to do? Whom to trust? Reminds me a bit of the hoo-haw over birth control pills when I first considered taking them.
So, maybe it is important to remember that the more things change the more they stay the same. Change is the only constant. All those other trite-isms .
And like the snowstorm that seemed to be looming when I started this missive, if you just wait a few minutes, it will change. The sun is out once again, and the future looks oh so promising.
As I look out onto the mountains, I see that change is a-coming, weather-wise. The two days of spring-like temps are going to yield to what looks like a snowstorm arriving a little sooner than expected. Evening flurries was the forecast upon which I encouraged my son to bike to school this morning. Oops!
On a grander scale, though, the election year brings on change as a major theme. Everyone I know (in this protected Boulder bubble) is more than ready for a presidential change, and many of us are cautiously hopeful at the fresh face of the Democratic candidates. A woman and a person of mixed race --wow, now that's change. I don't think even MLK could have thought we'd come this far this fast. (Not that the work of social justice and civil rights is complete by any means.)
It is of course too early to tell what might happen in the presidential arena, but at least it is good to see diversity in the candidates. Given the past two performances, there is no guarantee of anything in our electoral system.
From the macro to the micro, I am often in awe of how change manifests itself within our own individual lives. Having our now-adult daughter home for the holidays started me thinking in this direction. To watch a person grow up is an incomparable joy (tinged with some sorrow at times), and our daughter is certainly breaking out of her cocoon into a quite amazing butterfly. For example, I mentioned summer vacation plans and she quickly snipped, "I am going to have to work this summer." Spring break at home was dismissed right off. What was I thinking?
But the most personally relevant change is the one I remember hearing my mother and her peers talk about oh-so-many years ago. "Oh, she's going through the CHANGE," they would whisper. It all sounded so mysterious and scary. Will she grow horns? Turn green and wrinkly? What is this change that seems to happen to women of a certain age?
As I near that age, I approach it with very mixed feelings. Of course, there is the uncertainty of how my body will react to the hormonal swings. Whether I will be a candidate for the various hormone replacement therapies is yet to be discussed. It is all so confusing--one study says they may prevent one cancer but another suggests they may promote a different one. What to do? Whom to trust? Reminds me a bit of the hoo-haw over birth control pills when I first considered taking them.
So, maybe it is important to remember that the more things change the more they stay the same. Change is the only constant. All those other trite-isms .
And like the snowstorm that seemed to be looming when I started this missive, if you just wait a few minutes, it will change. The sun is out once again, and the future looks oh so promising.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
The Sound of Silence
Ah, the quiet.
The noise one child can make is quite astounding. Especially when combined with a sibling.
One, you see, cannot bicker without the other.
At least not yet. It's only been an hour since my youngest son went to his best friend's house for a playdate.
This is my re-entry into normal life, which officially begins tomorrow when school starts again. It has been 16 days (18 hours and 15 minutes, but who's counting) since the start of winter break -- and forced family togetherness.
Don't get me wrong--it has been a wonderful holiday. We've had some nice times. Decorating the Christmas tree with longtime friends from Texas, reveling the the snow with my Texan brother and his family , the New Year's Day gathering with a few friends with matching siblings for ours. All in all, a great way to celebrate.
It is just the almost constant bickering of my boys where I lose patience. "Well, he started it" echoes in my brain endlessly. I hear my mother in my response: "I don;t care who started it; I'm going to end it." I do, however, stop short of knocking their heads together as she did.
Nonetheless, it has been impossible to maintain any sane strain of thought during this time. Taking the ornaments from the tree on the day after Barack Obama's awesome win in Iowa, I mentally composed an entry for this blog on the important role of change in society. Out with the old, in with the new, I wrote in my head.
But before I could get pen to paper (or more accurately, fingers to keyboard), I had to don my referee stripes and mediate yet another tragic consequence of brotherhood. After raising these two, I think I could go into foreign service negotiating peace agreements.
No one said parenting would be easy, but then no one ever mentioned it would be quite this challenging either.
Anyone up for year-round schooling?
The noise one child can make is quite astounding. Especially when combined with a sibling.
One, you see, cannot bicker without the other.
At least not yet. It's only been an hour since my youngest son went to his best friend's house for a playdate.
This is my re-entry into normal life, which officially begins tomorrow when school starts again. It has been 16 days (18 hours and 15 minutes, but who's counting) since the start of winter break -- and forced family togetherness.
Don't get me wrong--it has been a wonderful holiday. We've had some nice times. Decorating the Christmas tree with longtime friends from Texas, reveling the the snow with my Texan brother and his family , the New Year's Day gathering with a few friends with matching siblings for ours. All in all, a great way to celebrate.
It is just the almost constant bickering of my boys where I lose patience. "Well, he started it" echoes in my brain endlessly. I hear my mother in my response: "I don;t care who started it; I'm going to end it." I do, however, stop short of knocking their heads together as she did.
Nonetheless, it has been impossible to maintain any sane strain of thought during this time. Taking the ornaments from the tree on the day after Barack Obama's awesome win in Iowa, I mentally composed an entry for this blog on the important role of change in society. Out with the old, in with the new, I wrote in my head.
But before I could get pen to paper (or more accurately, fingers to keyboard), I had to don my referee stripes and mediate yet another tragic consequence of brotherhood. After raising these two, I think I could go into foreign service negotiating peace agreements.
No one said parenting would be easy, but then no one ever mentioned it would be quite this challenging either.
Anyone up for year-round schooling?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Words to the Wise
Home from her first semester at college, my daughter mentioned the other day that she was going to declare her major next semester. It will be English.
Is there any better way to say "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up" than to declare your major as English? I suppose she could have chosen philosophy.
Don't misunderstand now, I love literature and words. I am a writer after all. It is just that if we were to take all the English majors in the world, the unemployment line would reach the moon.
English majors are just not valued in today's society, despite how helpful they undoubtedly could be in myriad places. Take, for example, the current Supreme Court appeal of the District of Columbia gun ban, the question apparently hangs on the Second Amendment's use (or overuse, one might argue) of the comma.
The text reads: A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Depending on how you interpret the commas, this cornerstone of American democracy either says that all people have the right keep and bear arms or that being part of the militia gives a person the right to carry a weapon. Or only the militia can keep guns.
And who will be advising the Supreme Court on this weighty matter? A bunch of lawyers who probably never stepped foot in a college grammar class, let alone read the classical literature that inspired the framers of the Constitution.
Let's face it, proper grammar, spelling and punctuation has gone the way of the typewriter.
Brevity is everything in this text-messaging world. Why, even the learned Merriam-Webster Dictionary capitulated to computer jargon in selecting its 2007 word of the year as "w00t" (complete with double zeros in the middle).
All I can say is I won't count on my daughter's support in my old age. :(
Is there any better way to say "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up" than to declare your major as English? I suppose she could have chosen philosophy.
Don't misunderstand now, I love literature and words. I am a writer after all. It is just that if we were to take all the English majors in the world, the unemployment line would reach the moon.
English majors are just not valued in today's society, despite how helpful they undoubtedly could be in myriad places. Take, for example, the current Supreme Court appeal of the District of Columbia gun ban, the question apparently hangs on the Second Amendment's use (or overuse, one might argue) of the comma.
The text reads: A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Depending on how you interpret the commas, this cornerstone of American democracy either says that all people have the right keep and bear arms or that being part of the militia gives a person the right to carry a weapon. Or only the militia can keep guns.
And who will be advising the Supreme Court on this weighty matter? A bunch of lawyers who probably never stepped foot in a college grammar class, let alone read the classical literature that inspired the framers of the Constitution.
Let's face it, proper grammar, spelling and punctuation has gone the way of the typewriter.
Brevity is everything in this text-messaging world. Why, even the learned Merriam-Webster Dictionary capitulated to computer jargon in selecting its 2007 word of the year as "w00t" (complete with double zeros in the middle).
All I can say is I won't count on my daughter's support in my old age. :(
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Putting the Pro in Procrastination
Procrastination is an evil, evil thing.
I've been meaning to post something new on this blog for at least a week now. There's always something else to do. Especially this time of year. Cards, gifts, decorations, parties... the list goes on and on.
In fact, that's my usual technique for avoiding the avoiding of tasks--I make a list of what needs to be done. I should have a second column next to the task that provides the anti-delaying strategy.
But then making the list is in itself procrastination -- make the list to avoid doing the job.
As I sit here, I can think of at least three other things I should be doing. All day I've been waffling between doing the holiday shopping or the decorating. It is supposed to snow tonight, so I figure I won't want to be driving around tomorrow, but I definitely won't want to be out stringing lights on the roof either.
And the computer is the absolute worst enabler of this malady of mine. There are so many fun sites to check out--other blogs, email, shopping, games, etc. Without even realizing it, a whole day can go by and I've barely left the keyboard.
So, I've decided something has to be done. I'm going to put the pedal to the metal and stop procrastinating.
I'll start tomorrow.
I've been meaning to post something new on this blog for at least a week now. There's always something else to do. Especially this time of year. Cards, gifts, decorations, parties... the list goes on and on.
In fact, that's my usual technique for avoiding the avoiding of tasks--I make a list of what needs to be done. I should have a second column next to the task that provides the anti-delaying strategy.
But then making the list is in itself procrastination -- make the list to avoid doing the job.
As I sit here, I can think of at least three other things I should be doing. All day I've been waffling between doing the holiday shopping or the decorating. It is supposed to snow tonight, so I figure I won't want to be driving around tomorrow, but I definitely won't want to be out stringing lights on the roof either.
And the computer is the absolute worst enabler of this malady of mine. There are so many fun sites to check out--other blogs, email, shopping, games, etc. Without even realizing it, a whole day can go by and I've barely left the keyboard.
So, I've decided something has to be done. I'm going to put the pedal to the metal and stop procrastinating.
I'll start tomorrow.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Ho, ho, hold on to your wallet
Tis the season to be jolly, or so the song says.
Of course, what most of us find is that it is more of a season to say "oh, golly."
As in "Oh golly, I have too much to do" or "Oh golly I'm supposed to buy something for the janitor at my kids' school, too?" (You might use another, more powerful phrase than "Oh golly" but I have no control over who reads this, so I want to stay family-oriented. )
Don't get me wrong, I am no Grinch. I love the holidays, whether it is Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Christmas, the Winter Solstice or some ancient Himalayan ritual you celebrate. I am all in favor of anything that involves chocolate.
What bothers me, though, is not just the commercialization. It's been that way as long as I've been alive so that is all I know. What particularly struck me this morning on the radio was an advertisement by a bank, encouraging people to come in and buy a gift card for that special someone.
A bank?! Why not just stuff an envelope full of cash and be done with it? Too crass? Well, what's the difference? The recipient doesn't immediately know the amount, so the first response can't be "what a cheapskate." With the equivalent of a credit card with a specific limit, the bank credit card does not even say to the givee "I know you like to shop at Potholders Paradise,
so go wild. "
All a gift card says is "I didn't want to think about what you might like, so go buy it yourself."
Sure, at roughly 2x3 inches, a card is a lot easier to mail than the cello little Tommy has always wanted. Saves postage, saves time, saves thought... what more could you want?
Personally, I feel that if a person does not know enough about me to choose an appropriate gift, they shouldn't be buying me one.
"What if they already have everything?" you may posit. No one has everything. If he/she does have everything, a gift card is probably not going to rock his/her world. At least not one you can afford.
Why not just buy something you think the person would like -- yes, actually put some thought into it -- and attach the receipt (many stores now offer gift receipts without the exact price right there for everyone to see). If it is a duplicate or the wrong color/size/brand/whatever, it can be exchanged.
"Oh but that's so much trouble," you may say. What's the difference? The recipient would have to go to the store, just as he/she would with a gift card, and find the right size/color/brand/whatever, just as he/she would with a gift card. The biggest difference would be that there is a limited time for exchanges, so it gets done! No anonymous cards floating around in a wallet for months.
The people who would not take the time to exchange something probably would not take the time to use a gift card either, at least not at the time and in the spirit in which the gift was intended. As research has shown, more than one-fourth of gift cards purchased are never used. And many cards contain that teeny-tiny print with (to use the words of Robin Williams' Genie ) terms, conditions, limitations, exceptions and provisos that may make your gift not as valuable as you intended. An excellent report from Montgomery County (MD) rates cards and points out common problems: http://www.montgomerycountymd.gov/content/ocp/giftcards2007final.pdf
Gift cards do have their place, though. For example, group gifts, say, for the teacher or boss. How many apple magnets can one person use, after all. And pooling a bunch of $5 contributions does make a nicer statement than a load of coffee mugs.
As in many situations, food is an answer. Large restaurant chains and even smaller spots offer the cards or just the old-fashioned gift certificate. Let's face it, everyone eats.
Another acceptable use is for kids, who think it is so fun to go to the store and pick out what they want. It is a trap for the parents though. Say Great-Aunt Judy sends little Emma a gift card for $10 because, well, Judy hasn't shopped for toys lately. What Emma just has to have at the toy store is $14.99 (because you've bought everything else already), so guess who has to fork over the other $4.99+tax. Just try explaining tax to a five-year-old.
Though a good idea at the heart, the gift card seems to have become one more way for the retail sector to take our money, as the old election joke goes, early and often.
After all, it is supposed to be the thought that counts, so how 'bout we put a little thought into it.
Of course, what most of us find is that it is more of a season to say "oh, golly."
As in "Oh golly, I have too much to do" or "Oh golly I'm supposed to buy something for the janitor at my kids' school, too?" (You might use another, more powerful phrase than "Oh golly" but I have no control over who reads this, so I want to stay family-oriented. )
Don't get me wrong, I am no Grinch. I love the holidays, whether it is Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Christmas, the Winter Solstice or some ancient Himalayan ritual you celebrate. I am all in favor of anything that involves chocolate.
What bothers me, though, is not just the commercialization. It's been that way as long as I've been alive so that is all I know. What particularly struck me this morning on the radio was an advertisement by a bank, encouraging people to come in and buy a gift card for that special someone.
A bank?! Why not just stuff an envelope full of cash and be done with it? Too crass? Well, what's the difference? The recipient doesn't immediately know the amount, so the first response can't be "what a cheapskate." With the equivalent of a credit card with a specific limit, the bank credit card does not even say to the givee "I know you like to shop at Potholders Paradise,
so go wild. "
All a gift card says is "I didn't want to think about what you might like, so go buy it yourself."
Sure, at roughly 2x3 inches, a card is a lot easier to mail than the cello little Tommy has always wanted. Saves postage, saves time, saves thought... what more could you want?
Personally, I feel that if a person does not know enough about me to choose an appropriate gift, they shouldn't be buying me one.
"What if they already have everything?" you may posit. No one has everything. If he/she does have everything, a gift card is probably not going to rock his/her world. At least not one you can afford.
Why not just buy something you think the person would like -- yes, actually put some thought into it -- and attach the receipt (many stores now offer gift receipts without the exact price right there for everyone to see). If it is a duplicate or the wrong color/size/brand/whatever, it can be exchanged.
"Oh but that's so much trouble," you may say. What's the difference? The recipient would have to go to the store, just as he/she would with a gift card, and find the right size/color/brand/whatever, just as he/she would with a gift card. The biggest difference would be that there is a limited time for exchanges, so it gets done! No anonymous cards floating around in a wallet for months.
The people who would not take the time to exchange something probably would not take the time to use a gift card either, at least not at the time and in the spirit in which the gift was intended. As research has shown, more than one-fourth of gift cards purchased are never used. And many cards contain that teeny-tiny print with (to use the words of Robin Williams' Genie ) terms, conditions, limitations, exceptions and provisos that may make your gift not as valuable as you intended. An excellent report from Montgomery County (MD) rates cards and points out common problems: http://www.montgomerycountymd.gov/content/ocp/giftcards2007final.pdf
Gift cards do have their place, though. For example, group gifts, say, for the teacher or boss. How many apple magnets can one person use, after all. And pooling a bunch of $5 contributions does make a nicer statement than a load of coffee mugs.
As in many situations, food is an answer. Large restaurant chains and even smaller spots offer the cards or just the old-fashioned gift certificate. Let's face it, everyone eats.
Another acceptable use is for kids, who think it is so fun to go to the store and pick out what they want. It is a trap for the parents though. Say Great-Aunt Judy sends little Emma a gift card for $10 because, well, Judy hasn't shopped for toys lately. What Emma just has to have at the toy store is $14.99 (because you've bought everything else already), so guess who has to fork over the other $4.99+tax. Just try explaining tax to a five-year-old.
Though a good idea at the heart, the gift card seems to have become one more way for the retail sector to take our money, as the old election joke goes, early and often.
After all, it is supposed to be the thought that counts, so how 'bout we put a little thought into it.
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