You read that right: I do not socialize. A year ago, I could have subtitled the blog "a homeschool mom's rant on stupid cultural practices." Now, though, I'm not sure that I qualify as a homeschool mom. I have ten kids. Count 'em: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. That in and of itself might excuse me from socializing, but I can tell you now, I am no more overwhelmed at the thought of socializing now than I was when I had two children under 15 months. Back to the homeschool thing. Last year, I entered my eldest 4 children into school. So then I only homeschooled 6. Now, my eldest daughter is off at college, and my husband liked the organized education idea so much (as opposed to the completely unorganized and sometimes non-existent education that I was providing) that he entered our next 4 into school 2 days per week.
Let me take this opportunity before you all wag your finger at me in reproach to say that when we started homeschooling, my husband worked from 2:30 pm - 11:00 pm, and every morning he helped me homeschool. I know many women do it, but it's kind of exhausting managing the education of four to eight children while babysitting a 2-yr-old and a newborn. Now, my husband works 2 full-time jobs, one as CEO of his education business and the other as a personal educational consultant and doesn't really have time to teach all our kids. I know, the cobbler's kids have no shoes. All that to say that for the last 5 years I have increased the number of children in my family, diversified the requirements to educate them, and lost the CEO of my house to a competing business. Now, I hemi-school instead of homeschool.
Back to socializing. God did not create me as a social being. Now, I hear some of you screaming, "You are a human. Human's are social beings!" Well, either I am not human - which sometimes I have wondered at - or humanity is not homogeneous. I'll let you decide. But I am not a social creature. From my birth, I spent more time stuck in books and in my imagination than making friends. Some would call me unfeminine (though I would venture to say that having 10 kids proves I'm womanly,) but I don't share many of those distinctly female qualities that provide characterizations in movies or novels. Unlike most women, I don't really need friends, probably because they're too hard to make. I don't take any great pleasure in unburdening myself to other women, and I firmly refuse to gossip, so what would we talk about? I could say that I refrain from social interaction because of the general atmosphere of pettiness and gossip that too often surrounds a gaggle of women, but honestly, I just don't enjoy talking to most people and they don't enjoy talking to me. I don't do awkward pauses well, and since I talk about really weird stuff, I encounter many, many awkward pauses. "So, I was reading Science Daily the other day..." Blank stare. "But did you think of the philosophical ramifications of buying that pair of Juicy sweatpants?" Polite smile before turning to the nearest actual human. I don't shop. Don't like to get my nails done, hair cut, spa, or any other superficial indulgence that will, in my house, last 5 minutes before it gets ruined, destroyed, or disheveled. Not that I judge people who engage in those activities, but with 10 kids, I have to limit my indulgences to things that a. give me the biggest bang for the buck and b. last no more than 15 minutes in duration and can be interrupted and set aside at any moment and for any length of time. So my indulgences lie more along the lines of eating bad (good) food, playing video games, playing the piano, or working on one of my many unpublished novels. (I'm up to 5 complete works that no one is interested in.) Outside of those moments, I'm working.
If I'm going to ignore my children long enough to find nice clothes, put on makeup, make my hair presentable, and then exit my house, it will either be to go on a date with my hubby (my favorite activity when we're not irritated at each other) or go to church. Both of these activities possess the additional charm of being a child-free enterprise, and, yes, church nursery worker, sometimes I take a little longer than is absolutely necessary to pick up my kids just because I got into one of my rare discussions with another non-human who actually likes to talk to me. Indulge me a little - it doesn't happen often.
It's true, I do find the occasional non-human at church who likes to talk to me, but I have discovered that a school environment, despite its supposed emphasis on education, imposes an unacceptable social demand on me, largely in the following forms. 1. A discussion and comparison of all of the above referenced superficial indulgences: nails, hair, clothes, cars, holiday homes, children's private coaches to complement a parent's unhealthy commitment their child's extra-curricular activities, etc. or 2. The above reference pettiness and small talk but with the added element of pettiness and small talk regarding other people's children and their nails, hair, clothes, cars, holiday homes, private coaches to complement a parent's unhealthy commitment their child's extra-curricular activity, etc. Add to that an inordinate number of coffees, sports parents' meetings, academic parents' meetings, after school club parents' meetings, theater (or theatre) parents' meetings - I challenge President Obama to prove he's invited to more meetings in a week than I am.
Let me wrap up by saying that I do not judge people. I am not here talking about people. What I said at the beginning of this post is that I do not socialize. I am talking about a society. Not the American society at large, but the middle-upper middle class world of way-too-uptight moms who have left behind the days of their stuck-at-home with babies struggles and need something to do with their time. I have never fit into this category. At the age of 22, I had my first child, and I have had a child in diapers all but six months of the past 18 years. I just dropped my daughter off at college a few weeks ago, and I had to take my 11-month-old with me because I was still nursing. I do not need anything else to fill my time. I do not need your society or have time to figure out the games and maneuverings necessary to thrive in it. If it means that my school-involved children will suffer because I don't volunteer to head the theater moms' committee, then my child will adapt. I will feel ridiculously guilty, but a lot less guilty than I would if I left my baby at home for hours without me or dragged her up to a play practice where she bothered everyone else when she offered the inevitable cry. Or even less guilty than if I yelled at my older kids for some innocuous offense because the wear and tear of all of my committees and meetings and volunteering left me irritable and exhausted.
At the outset of my motherhood, I did not intend to so, but I have temporarily created my own society. It is all I can do to navigate the complexities of managing hormone filled teenagers, adventurous children, and utterly dependent babies while making sure my husband and I still like each other when we're through. I think that after this, I will be prepared to be dictator of a small country - it can't be that much more difficult. If you meet me on the street, therefore, you will probably receive a smile and a friendly inquiry after your condition in life. If I receive a blank stare, I will most likely make up an excuse and make my exit ASAP. It's not that I don't care about you; it's just that I don't know how to small talk, and you don't want me in the deep waters of your life or you would invite me in. And if you ask me to volunteer for a committee or attend a meeting, I will probably try to mimic the blank stare I so often receive from others. It always makes me go away so maybe it'll work on you. In the meantime, I will just mimic the human mannerisms that I see so that I can fit in long enough to get my kids raised. Then you may committee me to your heart's extent. Unless I decide to focus on my grandkids...
Let me take this opportunity before you all wag your finger at me in reproach to say that when we started homeschooling, my husband worked from 2:30 pm - 11:00 pm, and every morning he helped me homeschool. I know many women do it, but it's kind of exhausting managing the education of four to eight children while babysitting a 2-yr-old and a newborn. Now, my husband works 2 full-time jobs, one as CEO of his education business and the other as a personal educational consultant and doesn't really have time to teach all our kids. I know, the cobbler's kids have no shoes. All that to say that for the last 5 years I have increased the number of children in my family, diversified the requirements to educate them, and lost the CEO of my house to a competing business. Now, I hemi-school instead of homeschool.
Back to socializing. God did not create me as a social being. Now, I hear some of you screaming, "You are a human. Human's are social beings!" Well, either I am not human - which sometimes I have wondered at - or humanity is not homogeneous. I'll let you decide. But I am not a social creature. From my birth, I spent more time stuck in books and in my imagination than making friends. Some would call me unfeminine (though I would venture to say that having 10 kids proves I'm womanly,) but I don't share many of those distinctly female qualities that provide characterizations in movies or novels. Unlike most women, I don't really need friends, probably because they're too hard to make. I don't take any great pleasure in unburdening myself to other women, and I firmly refuse to gossip, so what would we talk about? I could say that I refrain from social interaction because of the general atmosphere of pettiness and gossip that too often surrounds a gaggle of women, but honestly, I just don't enjoy talking to most people and they don't enjoy talking to me. I don't do awkward pauses well, and since I talk about really weird stuff, I encounter many, many awkward pauses. "So, I was reading Science Daily the other day..." Blank stare. "But did you think of the philosophical ramifications of buying that pair of Juicy sweatpants?" Polite smile before turning to the nearest actual human. I don't shop. Don't like to get my nails done, hair cut, spa, or any other superficial indulgence that will, in my house, last 5 minutes before it gets ruined, destroyed, or disheveled. Not that I judge people who engage in those activities, but with 10 kids, I have to limit my indulgences to things that a. give me the biggest bang for the buck and b. last no more than 15 minutes in duration and can be interrupted and set aside at any moment and for any length of time. So my indulgences lie more along the lines of eating bad (good) food, playing video games, playing the piano, or working on one of my many unpublished novels. (I'm up to 5 complete works that no one is interested in.) Outside of those moments, I'm working.
If I'm going to ignore my children long enough to find nice clothes, put on makeup, make my hair presentable, and then exit my house, it will either be to go on a date with my hubby (my favorite activity when we're not irritated at each other) or go to church. Both of these activities possess the additional charm of being a child-free enterprise, and, yes, church nursery worker, sometimes I take a little longer than is absolutely necessary to pick up my kids just because I got into one of my rare discussions with another non-human who actually likes to talk to me. Indulge me a little - it doesn't happen often.
It's true, I do find the occasional non-human at church who likes to talk to me, but I have discovered that a school environment, despite its supposed emphasis on education, imposes an unacceptable social demand on me, largely in the following forms. 1. A discussion and comparison of all of the above referenced superficial indulgences: nails, hair, clothes, cars, holiday homes, children's private coaches to complement a parent's unhealthy commitment their child's extra-curricular activities, etc. or 2. The above reference pettiness and small talk but with the added element of pettiness and small talk regarding other people's children and their nails, hair, clothes, cars, holiday homes, private coaches to complement a parent's unhealthy commitment their child's extra-curricular activity, etc. Add to that an inordinate number of coffees, sports parents' meetings, academic parents' meetings, after school club parents' meetings, theater (or theatre) parents' meetings - I challenge President Obama to prove he's invited to more meetings in a week than I am.
Let me wrap up by saying that I do not judge people. I am not here talking about people. What I said at the beginning of this post is that I do not socialize. I am talking about a society. Not the American society at large, but the middle-upper middle class world of way-too-uptight moms who have left behind the days of their stuck-at-home with babies struggles and need something to do with their time. I have never fit into this category. At the age of 22, I had my first child, and I have had a child in diapers all but six months of the past 18 years. I just dropped my daughter off at college a few weeks ago, and I had to take my 11-month-old with me because I was still nursing. I do not need anything else to fill my time. I do not need your society or have time to figure out the games and maneuverings necessary to thrive in it. If it means that my school-involved children will suffer because I don't volunteer to head the theater moms' committee, then my child will adapt. I will feel ridiculously guilty, but a lot less guilty than I would if I left my baby at home for hours without me or dragged her up to a play practice where she bothered everyone else when she offered the inevitable cry. Or even less guilty than if I yelled at my older kids for some innocuous offense because the wear and tear of all of my committees and meetings and volunteering left me irritable and exhausted.
At the outset of my motherhood, I did not intend to so, but I have temporarily created my own society. It is all I can do to navigate the complexities of managing hormone filled teenagers, adventurous children, and utterly dependent babies while making sure my husband and I still like each other when we're through. I think that after this, I will be prepared to be dictator of a small country - it can't be that much more difficult. If you meet me on the street, therefore, you will probably receive a smile and a friendly inquiry after your condition in life. If I receive a blank stare, I will most likely make up an excuse and make my exit ASAP. It's not that I don't care about you; it's just that I don't know how to small talk, and you don't want me in the deep waters of your life or you would invite me in. And if you ask me to volunteer for a committee or attend a meeting, I will probably try to mimic the blank stare I so often receive from others. It always makes me go away so maybe it'll work on you. In the meantime, I will just mimic the human mannerisms that I see so that I can fit in long enough to get my kids raised. Then you may committee me to your heart's extent. Unless I decide to focus on my grandkids...
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