The Problem with Gender Equality

   What is the problem with gender equality? In our society it doesn't exist. No really, it doesn't exist, no matter how much we might pretend it does. I have a very active imagination and like to pretend that I can destroy entire cities in an afternoon, but that doesn't make me a tyrannosaurus rex. Or maybe that is Godzilla I am thinking of.  Either way, no matter how much I stomp and roar, I am still just me with an overactive imagination. 

   This pretty much sums up how I feel about gender equality! Lots of stomping and roaring, but very few overturned cars! Now get your undies out of a bunch, I am not saying that we shouldn't have gender equality. I am actually all for it! I think we need to overturn more cars and crush more buildings. I crave to see the day when women in the work force earn as much as their male associates in the same roles. I long for the days when men have equal responsibilities in maintaining a household and raising children. 

    As of today, women still earn about 78% of what men earn in the workforce. If you want to take a look at some of the articles and numbers, take a look HERE and HERE, or just Google the topic. Some argue that this statistic is misleading and leaving out many variables, however, closer inspection finds that even when men and women occupy the same jobs, the men usually make more money. They are also generally selected over women for job positions and promotions. If you look at this from an equality standpoint, this makes no sense, as both applicants for the job would have to have the same eligibility requirements (education, experience, etc.) to obtain the position. Isn't this discrimination? Corporations argue that it is not, it is just economics. Last time I checked, women do not pay less for their education. Nor are their housing and living expenses less than that of men. Economically then, this argument also makes little sense. In the 1970's and 1980's, orchestras began to ponder the question of equality in their workforce and started holding blind auditions. Guess what? The number of female musicians who qualified for the available positions went up. So both genders had the ability to do the same job and earn the same amount of money? Apparently so.

   Delve further into the world of statistics, you might be surprised to find that higher percentage of women go to college than men, but that despite this, the wage earning discrepancy can be found in every state and in every occupation, including ones dominated by women. The same holds true whether the woman is single or married, with or without children, regardless of age. As a matter of fact, the older the woman gets, the wider the gap gets!

   But the gender equality gap doesn't stop there. Move into the domestic arena and things often get pretty ugly. My accolades to the stay-at-home-dads who do it all, or to the single fathers who are raising their kids solo. I sing the praises of men, single or attached who can thrive in both the workforce and the domestic arena.

   But all too often, as one father wrote in his blog, the bar is set too low. Men's domestic roles are woefully lagging. Research shows that women do twice as much housework as men, even when they work full time jobs. Despite the increase of women in the workforce, they still bear most of the responsibility for child care (yes, all puns intended). Men spend an average 7% of their time on child care, up from the 2.5% average in 1965!  I am not even going to bother citing articles - do a web search for yourself if you don't believe me.

   No, all men do not fall in the do-little category! My husband is a shining example of this. During his time as a stay-at-home parent, he cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, potty trained and took care of our daughter. He paid bills, ran errands, arranged any babysitters we needed and planned out all our vacations. He even braved the grocery store (still does, although whether he does this out of our pantry needs or to keep me out of jail is yet to be determined). Prior to his full time role, he had no qualms coming home from work and cooking dinner or cleaning house. To him this was stuff that just needed to get done. 

   Unfortunately, this is not the story I hear from most of my female friends. They are not only working for lower wages, but after a long day at the office, they go home and try and keep domestic order. They cook just about all the meals, do most of the housework and handle nearly all the child rearing duties. 

   Their male partners have to mow the lawn. Some of them even hold down a full time job. A job at which they make more money than the woman would.

   And I ask myself - What is equal about that?

   We have made great strides toward gender equality. Women can now vote. They can drive. They can pursue a higher education. They can strive for careers and get jobs that were previously unavailable to women. They can now legally hold property. At least in our country. But we still don't have gender equality. We aren't there yet. 

   If we were, my husband would not be such a bright shining example. 

   Today I found this picture on my desk with a note from one of my husband's co-workers. It made me smile. Yes, my husband is charming and handsome. Moreover, he is truly special and a hero to me in my isolated world of true gender equality. But Ron, I didn't need a picture to remind me how special my husband really is.

 I opened the empty dishwasher this morning.

The truth about organized people...

What does it mean to be organized?

   That really depends on who you ask. By definition, organized means to be arranged in a systematic way, especially on a large scale.
 
   For many, this simply means have a system. A way to do something. A place to put stuff.
 
   To the majority of people, however, organization is a symbol of control. If you want to know how much people crave this control, you merely have to do a quick search on the internet. There are websites and books dedicated to helping people organize their lives. There are stores whose sole purpose is to sell goods that help people organize their stuff. Apps and calendars are available for every technical device. A person can even obtain a degree to become a professional or personal organizer and earn a living helping others to become better organized.

   It seems that just about everyone has a fantasy about being organized. Really, who doesn't want to have some control? But before you idolize that organized person you think you want to be, there are a few truths about organized people that you should know up front:

They are Lazy.

They are Egotistical.

They are Time Snobs.

   And they revel in these aspects! If you are honest with yourself, you might see that you have some of these traits and may be on your way to being organized. What will people think?

   I will be honest, I would much rather spend my time with my feet up than working. If I must work, I prefer to do so with my feet up. An organized person tends to have some very lazy traits and as a result will put a system in place of extending physical or mental effort. If you don't think you fit this category, ask yourself this question: Would you carry a shovel full pea gravel across the yard fifteen times, or would you use a wheelbarrow and make just two trips? If you are lazy, like I am, you are going to vote for the wheelbarrow and less trips. Want to hone your lazy organizational skills, pick a home for the wheelbarrow afterward. Saves the energy of having to go looking for it later. Time saved looking for the wheelbarrow is time to relax on the patio with an ice cold beverage! The key to organized life is merely finding a method to save time and energy.

   By saving time and energy, the organized person achieves the goal of being in control! Control that they know they are meant to have. Control over some part of the universe around them! The organized person feels that they should be in control of their time and their universe.

That sounded a bit egotistical. 

   The biggest complaint I hear from people is that they don't have time to get organized. When someone tells me this, I worry about their self image. Are they merely minions who are going to let tasks dictate how things will get done and how much time it will take? Or will they take control and make the determination of how their time will be spent? 

   By being organized, you take less time to find the stuff you need to do the task and overall, less time to do the actual task. That will make you an egotist who thinks that you are worthy of handling time! You must be careful or the neighbors will talk.

   But doesn't it take time and energy to become a lazy, egotistical, time-snob, organized person? Truthfully, yes, but not much and probably less than you think. Remember, the average lazy organized person is looking to do as little work as possible, in the least amount of time. They have better things to do. Like put their feet up.

   Still think you want to be organized (and talked about by your friends and family) but not sure where to start? Remember the paragraph above about web pages and books and stores? Yeah, start there. Better yet, enlist help! Find someone you already know who fits the description of an organized person and get their input. Flatter them and they will be happy to lend a hand (remember, they are egotistical!).  

   People imagine that becoming organized is difficult. Imagination makes for the biggest, scariest monsters. Ask any kid how big are the monsters under their bed, then measure the space between the floor and the bed. The monster will most likely not fit in the actual space. Unless your kid sleeps in a bunk-bed or a loft-bed. Then I suggest skipping this step.

   So the only real question, is do you really want to be labeled as organized?

   Think about it. While you do, I am going to sit with my feet up warming my hands on a hot cup of French Vanilla Cappuccino and watch the snowflakes fall while I think about world domination. After all, I have finished this post with the help of on-line organization tools and now have a little extra time!

  I often marvel at what a wild, wonderful roller-coaster ride that life is.

  There are days like this...when my nephew gets an award for his outstanding performance in Band! He is behind his cousin, who is equally as excited! Heck, we were all excited!

   Then there are Toilet Tuesdays. Those are the days that all the bathrooms need cleaning. The not so pleasant stuff that needs taking care of. And might require tissue and ibuprofen. And a trip to the store cause we are out of toilet paper. And a return trip to the store cause we ran out of toilet bowl cleaner. And a trip back to the store since we ran out of tub cleaner. Then yet another trip because we ran out out ibuprofen and tissues and coffee. And I was struggling with a headache and a horrible cold. And the bathrooms were in desperate need of cleaning since we were having company the next day for my daughter's birthday.

   Quite frankly, I am glad we live close to civilization. If we didn't, the bathrooms might never get cleaned around here. Not to mention the fact that I am a terrible bear when I have a cold and a headache and no coffee. My daughter can tell you just running out of coffee is cause to sound an emergency.

   But because of the roller-coaster, I had sparkling clean bathrooms for the party. Hot food served on time and one happy kid. We had family and friends to surround us and share in our joy. Just as several days later they would share in our sorrow. Sorrow that was filled with tears, laughter, longing and, oddly enough, joy. Sometimes all at once.

   Because the day after my daughter's 11th birthday, my husband's mean old wife shooed him out (not unwillingly) into a blizzard to go visit his mom. They were supposed to go to church, but we both knew with conditions being what they were, that probably wasn't going to happen. Mom was pretty weak from meds and chemo. Still a visit would not be a bad thing. While he was visiting, his mean old wife groused and complained through a stopped up head about the snow blower being out of gas and shoveled the cold wet slop off the drive. She also named the snow blower Buzz. After a nice visit with his mom, handsome hero husband came home and rescued his wife - who could very easily been confused with grumpy cat. He even went to the store for more cold meds as we ran out. I gotta talk to our purchase management and stock supply group, we really need to do something about this reoccurring theme.

   That evening, his mom passed away. After 20 years of battling cancer, the cancer won.

Or maybe you could say it lost.

   Okay, I know, it sounds weird, but we are talking about a wonderful woman here. In her last conversation with me, she told me either way, she won. If she beat cancer, she had more time to spend with her 5 wonderful kids and 8 grandchildren. She could go on vacation with us over the summer (maybe Florida this year). When she got stronger she could visit with her friends. If she did not beat cancer, she got to be with her savior. She saw it as a win-win situation. 

 
   So we cried because we missed her and selfishly wanted her here with us. We laughed with family when we sorted through all the pictures (some were pretty goofy). We were amazed to find pages and pages of journals, but surprised that her bible was not all marked up and earmarked. She treated her bible better than we treat ours. We sorted through her clothes marked for donation. Who has 42 sweatshirts? And yes, her favorite color was red. And pink. With a little purple thrown in for good measure.

    There was this sweatshirt too - with all the grandkid's names listed under each animal patch.  There were so many patches, some of the kids were on the back. But there were more animal patches than kids. The ones with no names each had a heart. On the back of the sweatshirt near the bottom was this little TBA mark. Ummm. Okay, that makes me a little nervous. Great Grandchildren?

  That week, I read the scripture that she picked out for my RE class. During our last visit together, she helped me put together my class plan. I had a most attentive 4th grade class as they learned through her story what it means to be a disciple. To listen to others. To do for others. To give of yourself. Which was nice, since that was what the chapter was all about in our books. I don't believe in coincidence. Or random acts.

   The family held a Celebration of Life service at her church the next weekend. There was no body - she gave it to science. But she was present in a most powerful way.

Because she believed, I came to believe,
Because she was witness, I came to witness,
And so I say Au Revoir to a patient person with a quiet soul.
Our hearts hang heavy know years we will be separated,
Before we can be joined again, unbroken and whole once more.

What a powerful legacy.

   This week is my birthday. More celebrations, more reasons to laugh.

 I hope, like mom, I get what I want out of life. Great times with my family and friends, to be independent (or reasonably so) and not a burden to others. Then at the end of it all, to ride off in the sunset with my savior. I am so blessed I burst with the joy of my wonderful roller-coaster life and I cherish each moment of it.

I hope you do too.

   

   Snowing. Again. Cause we did not have enough snow after the 15 or so inches we received Sunday. I think the weather dude said 5th largest snowfall in Chicago.

   AWWWW, COME ON! MY SHOULDERS JUST STOPPED ACHING FROM SHOVELING.

   I shoveled for two hours after I got the truck stuck when Kate and I tried to go to church. I had pulled halfway out into the street when I encountered more slush and ice than our truck just could handle. And yes, we have sand in the back. Then in an attempt to free it from the slush before another car came along, I slipped and fell on my backside and slid halfway under the truck. Not to be deterred, I hefted a shovel and dug out the wheels, slipping and sliding the whole time. Having freed the truck, I pulled it back into the garage. We were going nowhere. The street was worse than the drive and I just could not see myself digging the truck out of a ditch. Or the neighbor's yard.
    Then I began shoveling. Not because I wanted to drive anywhere, but if I had an emergency, I wanted to be able to get out of my driveway. And not just out of my driveway, but out of my driveway using my vehicle. I get these ideas sometimes. It had gotten too deep and wet for the snow blower to handle. Not to mention that the snow blower was out of gas. And I would have to go get gas, which was not exactly walking distance, which meant that I would have to use my truck. That same one I couldn't get out of the driveway earlier.

   I think you see the dilemma here.

   So I shoveled. And shoveled. And shoveled. And shoveled. And shoveled. And shoveled. It was like some kind of nightmare where my driveway kept growing and growing and growing. After I shoveled half the drive, I looked back. Mind you, it is not a long driveway, so not much to look back on. But there was already a half inch of snow covering my hard work. My daughter helped a little before going to play in the back yard. This is what she had been waiting for all winter - REAL SNOW! And a lot of it. My husband had gone to visit his mom early that morning. I at least wanted to clear enough of the drive so he could get back in with our other vehicle. Seemed reasonable. To a mad-man. Shovel, shovel, shovel, shovel. Snow plow passes. Very ineffective in clearing the street, but very effectively burying the end of the drive under a pile of wet, heavy slop. Plow guy is careful to avoid eye contact with me. Probably good move on his part.

   Then my darling husband got home and helped me finish shoveling. He may have done so out of love. Or maybe it was safety. I am sure I was grumpier than a wet cat in frozen mud and probably looked like the abominable snowman. I took my soaking wet grumpy self in the house and stripped of coat, boots, snow pants, gloves and scarves and threw it all in the dryer. I think even the boots. 

   My daughter took a nice, long, hot bath. I ran out of cold medicine.

   Fortunately my wonderful husband was able to get the snow blower working and clear the drive, again. I love our snow blower. I have affectionately named it Buzz. I would feed it treats if I did not think it would whack my hand off in its jaws of steel.

   He braved the icy streets to bring me more cold medicine. I began to thaw. And feel better. I even smiled when he made another pass at the drive with Buzz. Just to keep it clear - in case of emergency you know.

   Yesterday the sun came out. Kid was home from school cause of school closing due to blizzard. We got bad news. Husband came home from work. We were glad the drive was nice and clear. Easy to come and go as we needed.

    Then today.

Fresh Layer of snow.

Kid is happy.

I am coming Buzz.