Quiet revolution

Her Bad Mother recently asked us bloggers to do a post about our 'causes'. Her request came as the result of her conversation with Gloria Steinem in which she, Gloria, said...Oh hell, here is an excerpt from that post:

"And by far the coolest thing that she said was this: that she saw the women (and many of the men) of the blogosphere as being at the forefront of a new kind of revolutionary movement. A movement wherein we really talk to one another, and listen to one another. A movement wherein the highest premium is placed on telling the truth, and deriving inspiration and power from the truth. A movement that we further with every post that we write, with every supportive comment that we leave, with every empowering conversation that we spark and fuel and fan to a blaze. A movement that a big cool enterprise like Greenstone Media is committed to promoting. Our movement.

But she also said this: never forget that such a movement, based as it is on dialogue and debate, can only ever be a support for action. It cannot replace action. Don't cocoon in your blogosphere, she said. Don'’t mistake speaking or writing for acting. Don't just talk: do."

For my contribution to HBM's latest assignment, I want to talk less about a recognized charitable cause, and more about what I see as a kind of revolutionary behaviour. Behaviour, or action, that does not necessarily leave you with the warm fuzzies, or come with a tax receipt; you won't be given a rubber bracelet or ribbon sticker for your car. In short, the kind of action that has no immediate reward. Action that may be ignored altogether, or even met with hostility. The revolutionary act of being a parent in public.

I am not referring to family-quarantined public spaces like parks and schools. No, I'm talking about the streets, restaurants, and office buildings of our cities. The spaces of the Adult World. I like these spaces and want to continue to occupy them. And I do not want to have to ignore that I am a parent in order to do so. Which is not to say that babies and children are appropriate everywhere. To the contrary, there are times and places where the presence of little ones is clearly not ideal. I get that, I do my best to abide. But the thing is, since I've become a parent, rarely - and I mean RARELY - does my day-to-day life fit any kind of ideal scenario. My best laid plans get blown to smithereens all the time.

As a parent you need to adjust. You must be nibble; able to problem solve, reconfigure, and modify your plans. You must compromise. You must settle for 'less than ideal' all the time. If I were to simply have two choices: the ideal or nothing at all, then I'd have nothing. And I don't want 'nothing', so I compromise.

Normally, my change of plans effects no one but me. (My psyche takes a beating some weeks.) But I am, occasionally, so bold as to make plans and appointments in the Adult World. And these plans often go awry. But, I do not cancel my plans, I compromise. And that means that sometimes I must take my son with me into situations where he may not be so welcome and where I, certainly, will be evaluated for my choice to bring him along.

I consider not cancelling my plans a revolutionary act: that I would bring my son into the Adult World is daring. But the real revolutionary act is to face the inevitable evaluation of my decision - of me - without shame. To face it with confidence and without apology. I know I will be evaluated using a rating system that doesn't factor in sleepless nights, cranky babies, diaper disasters, piles of laundry, unreliable babysitters, and on and on. All the things that might factor into me looking like a tired slob shlepping my kid into a work meeting. I will fail their evaluation miserably. But I will pass my own with flying colours.

I am a parent, and an adult. And I do want it all - at once! So there. It just may be very sloppy and potentially humiliating. It won't be easy but revolution never is.