From my pocketbook to yours

So there is no deal. No bailout forthcoming. Republican lawmakers had their feelings bruised by House Speaker Nancy Pelosi this morning and decided to vote against bestowing $700 billion of your money and my money on the financial market. Troubled financial institutions will now have the same options as the rest of us. Now we will all have front row seats to the apparently impending catastrophic crash of our economy and the subsequent ripples to be felt around the world.

I wont pretend to know anything about finance and business. I withdrew while failing Accounting II in college; the closest I came to business or finance in graduate school was the budget planning section of my thesis. What I do know is how much money my husband and I earn and how much it costs to educate our children, put gas in our car and food on our table, and keep a roof over our heads. The wrangling in Washington and the happenings on Wall Street seem very far removed from my supermarket bill.

While my husband (pro fat cat capitalist) thinks me a bit socialist in many respects, I believe the markets should take care of themselves. I don't believe the government has any business holding interest in financial companies. (How is this different from the Russian government taking over oil companies?) Risk is inherent in all investments. Bad choices should have unfavorable results. There will be no congressional cavalry if I invest heavily in a firewood production company in Key West, nor should there be. If I choose to buy Manolo Blahniks and Stuart Weitzmans rather than pay my bills, I will have my light and water cut off. If I buy a house or a car I cannot afford, then I, like every one else living beyond their means, am carrying water in a basket.

As Jamaicans say "donkey seh di worl' nuh level." Regular people don't get bail outs from financial crises; whether they are self-inflicted or caused by external circumstances - unemployment or predatory lending. It seems to me that the people who claim expertise and take responsibility for other people's money should be held to a higher standard. Makes no sense to me that the more you lose and the more people you screw the better off you are.

I want a bail out that goes straight to the vein, not "trickle down to the masses" like the one proposed. Can we use some of that $700 billion to reduce gas prices? That would result in lower food prices at my Shop-Rite. Can we use some of that $700 billion to pay teachers and improve our public school system? Then paying tuition for private schools would be more of a choice than a necessity. Can we use some of that $700 billion to provide basic healthcare for the thousands of uninsured children across the country? That way we could save on the much more that is spent on emergency and chronic care. Can we use some of that $700 billion to revitalize and bring commerce back to towns and neighbors devasted by outsourcing and closed factories? That would create jobs and increase spending. That makes sense to me and would make me feel better about having to pick up the tab.

News from the battlefront

It was Working Mother (and Parenting, Cookie, Family Choice, et al.) magazine that first made me aware. The "who's better" battle between stay-at-home moms and career moms has apparently been smoldering outside the awareness of the larger public for some time. Were it not for the publications, books, television commentators and radio experts I would have been ignorant of it and vulnerable to a surprise attack. Thanks to the mag's keen insight I was made ready for onslaughts from breastfeeding playground moms with vegan, organic-only toddlers on their hips. I became aware of every judgmental leer from the velour-wearing set toward my suit and pumps. I became armed with all the arguments of choice, women's suffrage and equal rights and justice. I enlisted wholeheartedly in the war.

Now, I'd like an honorable discharge. My armor is heavy and my aim is no longer sure. I want to make my peace with moms who stay at home, moms who work from home, moms who go out to work, and dads who stay at home. I want to share ideas about what to make for lunch and how to get my kindergartner to sit still.

While I worked long days I struggled to get my toddler boys in bed by 9. My stay-at-home sister-in-law would tell me that her kids were long gone to sleep at that hour. I would grit my teeth and curse under my breath, "Of course, they are. You have nothing to do all day."

Even as my boys would sometimes come home with the gifts of daycare - colds, foul language, bad behaviors - I was quick to address any disdain for daycares by pointing to how independent, sociable and well-adjusted my sons are; particularly compared to my friends' children who stay at home and are clingy and afraid of their own shadow.

I groaned about the moms who spent an entire day at school to decorate for events. I criticized the clique that chatted and had coffee after they walked their children to class. I thought they needed to find something constructive to do with their time.

Then, because God had a keen sense of humor, I found myself at home on mommy duty. Nothing I learned working with cut-throat politicians, arrogant administrators or obnoxious reporters prepared me for this phase of my life. Some of the challenges are the same. My sons still get sick at school and I still feel helpless to do anything about it - even if I can get there sooner now. I also have some new challenges. I seem to have far fewer hours in the day, for one thing. Someone who balanced multiple projects and consistently met unreasonable deadlines, still scrambles to get dinner on the table before nightfall.

I understand now that the moms who have coffee together are just enjoying a few moments of adult company, which can be few and far between. Many who volunteer at school are looking for outlets for their talents that can lie dormant in the roles of wife and mother. In addition to our parenting challenges, there are personal questions we face. Women bear the brunt of these questions. Our lives - and therefore our career paths - are altered at conception. We, more than men, have to ask ourselves what sacrifices we are willing to make and what kind of mothers we want to be. If I choose parenthood over career will I be living up to my full potential? Will I regret the choice and resent my mate and children for it? If I ardently pursue a career will my children suffer for my ambition? Am I being a bad parent if I enlist strangers to care for my child? Is it possible to reach a harmonious balance or is that pursuit destined to end in failure and frustration?

Uman Fren

My grandmother, who has already outlived her four score and ten by 25 years, has always been opinionated and willing to set everyone right. She has always been particularly generous with her opinions with me. My skirts were too short and my nail polish too red (worse than Hezekiah's wife); I did not sew and refused to make my bed (however would I find a husband); I fraternized with the weed-smoking locals and I stayed out way too late (decent girls aren't out on the street after dark). She had her hands full with me.

In addition to dress hems and domestic skills, my grandmother often castigated me on the female friends who were always at my house or on the phone. As far as she is concerned it is inevitable that 'woman friends' will double cross you, share your secrets with the masses and steal your husband - if you ever learned to keep a good house and got one. Having gone to an all girls' high school and having been on the receiving end of some first class bitchiness, I am well aware of the meanness quotient of the fairer sex. I don't, however, share my grandmother's skepticism.

For every time my trust has been betrayed, there have been ten times when both my trust and my spirit have been held by a sister-friend. I have been fortunate to have in my life a small group of remarkable women friends. They held my hands through scary times, counseled me when I was stupid, had my back when I was in trouble, and sat up late with me as I cried. They were at or in my wedding. They are godmothers and aunties to my boys. They call my mother Mom and ask how my brothers are doing.

Whether I talk to them every day or catch up every few months with a two-hour phone call, they are inextricable parts of my life and I know I can call on them any time. I cannot imagine not having them in my life. That was confirmed for me recently when someone I know went through an emotionally traumatic period - made worse because she didn't have anyone she could turn to. I was extremely saddened at the dire, irrevocable consequences of her not having someone to hold her hand and offer her some sage advice. There is nothing like being able to fall apart with the knowledge that someone will be there to put the pieces back together. It is one of life's most wonderful blessings to hold a friend's hand through challenges and having her thank you when she comes out on the other side.

I understand that getting close to someone - male or female - makes me vulnerable to hurt. I think it's worth it. I know there is a great casual easiness about having male friends. I think the deep connection between women carries a value that cannot be replicated with guy friends. Friendships with women are strengthening, affirming and sustaining and make my life richer.

No denying, girlfriends come with emotional drama, some silliness, and the likely fall-out every now and again, but I would not trade anything in the world for my girls.

My grandmother may have lived to 95 without having close girlfriends, but that might explain why she's so crotchety.