The pandemic has demonstrated how little has actually changed for women. 

We spent the past year getting used to being at home. Many lost their jobs, or quit to take care of the kids. Many more soldiered on, playing Mom, Wife and Worker on a single, ramshackle set. Meanwhile, Joe Biden executive-ordered us out of legal existence.

Adding insult to injury, #NotAllMen refuses to go away.

The response #TooManyWomen was pretty satisfying, but it exposed some confusion in the feminist conversation.

How Many Men?

“No one is saying that it’s all men,“ wrote one commenter, “so we don’t need to say ‘not all men.’“

This world just keeps on getting weirder! Today, I found myself sobbing with relief over a bill introduced by the man I voted against in 2012.

Saagar Enjeti over at The Hill explains how Mitt Romney’s Child Allowance Plan “Would almost single-handedly cut child poverty to the lowest level in decades.” 

He also reminds us that the United States is facing a real fertility crisis  – My generation is not having enough kids to replace ourselves. It seems many Americans don’t understand why this is important.

“When I praised this publicly, I was hit with unsurprisingly skeptical takes around, ‘Why do we even need more kids…? Doesn’t this discriminate against people who don’t have kids?”

For many years, Feminism has encouraged women to turn our backs on the kitchen.

From De Beauvoir to Friedan, through to Sandberg and others, we are shown Traditional Womanhood as Debasing. As Zombifying. As Unfortunate Details.

Surely any self-respecting woman with half a brain would decline to pursue life as a “Housewife.”

But you’re not married to the house (although it does feel like that sometimes) and this lifestyle made little sense to me until I had my children.

When you are the mother of a newborn, your world is suddenly very small. It expands back out over time, but it’s never quite the same.

It’s time to talk about breasts.

Specifically, mastectomies – The surgical removal of breast tissue. According to the Mayo Clinic, this procedure is intended for those suffering from breast cancer, or those at high risk of same.

But, like so many other things, this procedure is being used in what can only be called an “off-label” way, to treat transgender people. Transmen (that’s self-loathing women, for those keeping score) are starting to tell their stories of undergoing this procedure without understanding its ramifications. They describe a streamlined pipeline, wherein chopping off titties is treated as just the next step to fulfilling your dreams.

Today our water heater died.

The day before Thanksgiving. The day before you’re supposed to scrub up and cook. Wash potatoes for mashing and celery for stuffing.

The day family you haven’t seen in a year comes to visit, and maybe you want a shower first.

Today was an excellent example of why, sometimes, I don’t get anything done.

This house has many issues, most of which don’t impede the average day’s living. Old linoleum is still good for walking on. The broken lid of the washing machine still latches. The toilet only leaks sometimes. But lacking hot water crosses into the realm of real poverty.

“You can’t miss another day, okay sweetie? You only have four hours left.”

The sweet Southern lilt came from my case manager at the temp agency. I missed part or all of 3 out of 5 days last week, and I expected her to be annoyed. Instead she was sympathetic, telling me how her family had been sick over the weekend and that she wanted to check my time with me.

It’s nice to have a boss who doesn’t treat me like I’m trying to get away with something.

Because I really was up at 4am leaned over the toilet bowl. No alcohol was involved. My period hit me like a train and I just really feel awful.

This morning I was reading an article in The Guardian when suddenly my screen was filled with spammy bullshit about winning prizes. Sure, but only if I sign away my life first ?

But it doesn't matter how many times I reset the link, once that crap comes up I am not going to get to finish what I was reading.

And this time, when I tried to click back in the browser it took me to an adult dating app sign-up!

Are you over 18?

How about no?

Are you looking for singles in your area?

Chose No again.

Can you send and receive pics on your device?

That’s right, Moms, I’m talking about you. About us.

Recently I argued that Radical Feminism can be compatible with being a mother, and I will be building on that again later. Childfree ladies out there, I love you and your life is yours to live as you like.

For those of us who have taken on the challenge of bringing up the next generation, I want to talk a little about what that really means.

We are going to be leaving them a mess to clean up, that’s for sure. Global pollution obviously, but that’s just a symptom of what I want to focus on. 

Hubs was up through the wee hours writing a paper. He finally went to bed a while before noon, saying as he passed, “Read it if you want to. And if you want to change the ending, by all means. I was rushed.”

I understood him to mean that he wanted me to look at it, perhaps edit it, despite his phrasing making it sound voluntary. I do this so much it’s usually automatic. This mode of speech is common and I figure it’s a politeness thing. Nobody wants to look like they’re demanding things of people.

I do it myself. I might say to the 12-year-old, “Why don’t you go ahead and pick up your room?”

Recently in my wanderings, I read an article titled The Degradation of Feminists. Written by a young nursing student who approached Feminism from a beginner’s standpoint, she doesn’t come with the conventional Lib/Rad paradigm.

Layna Guillory argues that modern Feminism focuses on emulating the advantages of men and neglects the advantages women naturally possess. Others have observed this, and it’s not without merit. Layna begins by suggesting that Feminism has certain “drawbacks” but that she thinks the best of everyone involved. I wish I shared her optimism.