On My Mind: 03.28.11

Mondays at The Variegated Life: links to some stuff I’ve liked …

An art journalist invites five experts to select the greatest post-war works of art; the result is the heavy representation of just ten white men and the inclusion of only three (of 64) works by women. Are you surprised? I’m not. My husband, though, took the time to craft an eloquent response (complete with an analogy to baseball, of course). From his post (emphasis mine):

An exercise of this sort, intended to be lighthearted and in good fun, is bound to contain most of the works that populate the very end of a mammoth art history textbook. The broad outlines and movements of post-war and contemporary art will be illustrated with a few key works, as space allows. If women and minorities are not well represented, whose fault is that? The makers of the list only picked personal favorites and had them compiled after all. If Joan Snyder, Helen Frankenthaler, Eva Hesse, Lee Bontecou, Ana Mendita, Anne Truitt, Agnes Martin, Lee Krasner, Lynda Benglis, Carolee Schneemann, Judy Chicago, Howardina Pindell, Elizabeth Murray, Dorthea Rockburn, Mona Hatoum, Yayoi Kusama, or Louise Bourgeios (to name just a few of the notables from the same time period as most of the works on the list off the top of my head) weren’t the favorites of these critics and curators, why is that necessarily a problem within the context of this harmless little game?

The answer is that because Mr. Green’s game has managed to illustrate quite succinctly how easy it is to exclude women and minorities and still have everyone involved remain blameless.

Folks, I am not coaching him to make such observations! In other words, yes, feminist men do exist! And I’m married to one! And, oh, how his words make me swoon!

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At Working Moms Break, Katrina does the math on working parents, kids, and sick days:

My kids’ pediatrician explained to me once that children get 8–10 colds and fevers a year. What does that mean in sick days?

Let’s say on average your kid has to be home from school one day per illness (although some illnesses don’t require any missed days of school, while others can knock your kid out for a week, easy). That’s 9 days per year, per kid.

Let’s say you have two kids, and their 9 sick days a year overlap by a half. That means you need to take a good 13 or 14 days off a year to be home with a sick kid.

Oy. Work-wise, I’m still making up for time lost to illness in February. The next time sickness strikes our family, we’re going to handle it much differently. Just because I’m the one who works at home doesn’t mean that I can take on all of the workday sick-child care.

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At Rhythm of the Home, Lucy of Dreaming Aloud shares her gentle method of handling tantrums. And at This Is Worthwhile, Jessica reflects on “locking horns” with her three-year-old; from her post:

It’s easy to think they’re forging ahead in development whenever they’re soft and pliant and kind, and taking steps back when they’re bullheaded and unreasonable, but really it’s all a push forward in development. That’s right. It’s a movement of growth, truly.

When a young child defies his caregiver it’s as integral to his development as following the rules. You can’t draw a chair without the negative space after all. They have to discover the depths of the emotional spectrum as well as the highs; no one is all or nothing and certainly not children. They’re incapable of such emotional blandness. They’re programmed to feel all of it and it’s our job as parents to help the navigate it all, fights and all.

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The Practical Dilettante, Seonaid, shares the ten fundamental beliefs she wants her children to hold. I looked for a bit to quote but really wanted to quote the whole thing. So just go on over there and read it.

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At Small Notebook, Rachel shares her top five cleaning “a-ha!” moments. She also reminds us what cleaning our homes really is (can be?) all about: “We’re not taking care of stuff,” she writes, “We’re taking care of people.” I truly believe the same, which is one reason why our messy home troubles me so much.

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At Ms. Mary Mack, Nikki observes — and questions — our tendency as mothers to second-guess ourselves (via Lauren of Hobo Mama).

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At Spilt Milk, gender according to a three-year old girl.

On anatomy: Daddy doesn’t have a vulva. That’s funny.

Ha! Take THAT, Freud!