What Brings Us Together Today
Awhile back, I read Sandra Tsing Loh's article about her divorce. It is certainly not the best thing Loh has ever done. The article is a litany of all the hardships of modern, two-income motherhood, which, evidently, led to an affair and ultimately a divorce. It's a bit whiny for my taste, as well as poorly argued (three examples in her own life, plus a sprinkling of statistics does not an argument make).
One of my main problems with the article is with the contention that the ultimate failure of her marriage is down to the fact that she didn't want to 'work' on her marriage, which prescription is found on the pages of women's magazines. Call it what you will--date night, rekindling the spark, pretending for a few hours that we don't have children. Nothing wrong with any of that, but I don't think the presence or absence of date night is what sinks a marriage.
More fundamentally, I take issue with the idea of 'work'. As Loh conceives it, it's another item on a long list of chores to be done. This has to be wrong. Assuming that one is in fact friends with one's spouse, how could it be 'work' to hang out with your friend? How could it be another chore? I will say that since having children, it is harder to keep in contact with my friends, including my husband. When I was single, it was the easiest thing in the world to pick up the phone and call up another (probably single) friend and just talk or make plans. I have to think about it more now. Are the kids occupied? Are they going to need me soon? What time is it in Washington, D.C.? But, having taken care of those issues, it is one of the joys of my life to chat with my friends. It's absolutely necessary to my health and sanity.
Similarly with my husband. We usually can't really sit down and chat until the kids are asleep. But almost every night, over a beer or a cup of coffee, we sit on our porch and talk about what's going on in life, with the kids, with people we both know, what's happening in the church and in politics. Our ability to have fantastic, wide-ranging conversations was one of the main reasons I married The Padre. Making time to do so is really, really, really NOT like washing the dishes or making dinner.
When making the time to stop and talk to one's spouse, whether one does that at the kitchen table or in a restaurant, becomes another chore on the to-do list, you're in trouble. When your spouse ceases to be your friend, that's when the marriage begins to end. An affair may not follow directly, but certainly unhappiness will.
Related to Loh's refusal to 'work' on her marriage is the contention that marriage simply does not work. She quotes the work of a couple of anthropologists and evolutionary biologists to support this. The argument is something like, 'The feeling of being in love--the excitement, butterflies, etc.--only lasts around four years, which is long enough to raise a child through the most vulnerable part of his life. And some people seem to be geared more toward an exciting love life with lots of partners. [No real argument for this. It's just tossed out, with a book one can look at for further reference, presumably.] So after the kids are raised, why not just call the whole thing off?' I've read some of the work on evolutionary biology, and I've always found it rather faddy. The evidence never seems very strong, and the arguments tend to assume what they're trying to prove.
I will admit that I'm a bit old-fashioned about commitment and marriage. Meaning that I think one should honor commitments (and be careful about entering into them) and that the failure of a marriage is not the fault of the institution but the individuals in the marriage. Really, is there anything more depressing than an aging playboy?
There are problems with modern marriage, but I think Loh has failed to identify them. The problem isn't that the 'spark' doesn't last for 50 years or that some people are 'built' to be uncommitted. The problem is that modern couples and, especially, families are so isolated. So many of us don't live near our parents or siblings or other family members, who might help to ease the burden of looking after little kids, which, though we love our children, is tiring and a bit lonely.
I remember the best times of my life as a kid were when we went to Northern California, where my paternal grandparents and most of my cousins lived. The grandparents and one uncle and aunt (and my favorite cousin) lived next door to each other on a largish piece of property. The family assembled, we kids went out to play, and the adults could converse. Grandma had a huge bell that she used to call us in for meals. We didn't want or need the adults to entertain us, because we had each other, and as a pack, we could safely roam around, imagining adventures. The same thing happens when we visit The Padre's family--Lev (as Mr. A is being re-web-christened) goes off with his cousins and they play with the dogs or build legos or whatever it is that boys do in their little packs. Auntie, uncle, or grandma are usually delighted to hold a baby, and I can get a bit of alone time. Or adult conversation, without having to make sure my beverage is out of reach of a flailing kid.
It's not only lonely looking after little kids by yourself, it's lonely and a bit stressful when you've only got one friend--your spouse. I adore The Padre, and we have great times, but sometimes I do need my girlfriends. This seems almost disloyal to admit, though I'm not sure why. Throughout my life I've had more than one close friend. Why would that change once I was married? I can't imagine the pressure to be absolutely everything to another person. It's impossible. If no man is an island, no couple should try to be one, either. Our friends give us perspective, snarky humor, and beautifully chilled vodka tonics.
The real problem with marriage, the one that we have to spend a lot of time and energy to overcome, is that we've destroyed the networks of family and friends that used to help keep us sane and healthy. We don't need fewer people to raise kids or make a marriage work, we need more.
One of my main problems with the article is with the contention that the ultimate failure of her marriage is down to the fact that she didn't want to 'work' on her marriage, which prescription is found on the pages of women's magazines. Call it what you will--date night, rekindling the spark, pretending for a few hours that we don't have children. Nothing wrong with any of that, but I don't think the presence or absence of date night is what sinks a marriage.
More fundamentally, I take issue with the idea of 'work'. As Loh conceives it, it's another item on a long list of chores to be done. This has to be wrong. Assuming that one is in fact friends with one's spouse, how could it be 'work' to hang out with your friend? How could it be another chore? I will say that since having children, it is harder to keep in contact with my friends, including my husband. When I was single, it was the easiest thing in the world to pick up the phone and call up another (probably single) friend and just talk or make plans. I have to think about it more now. Are the kids occupied? Are they going to need me soon? What time is it in Washington, D.C.? But, having taken care of those issues, it is one of the joys of my life to chat with my friends. It's absolutely necessary to my health and sanity.
Similarly with my husband. We usually can't really sit down and chat until the kids are asleep. But almost every night, over a beer or a cup of coffee, we sit on our porch and talk about what's going on in life, with the kids, with people we both know, what's happening in the church and in politics. Our ability to have fantastic, wide-ranging conversations was one of the main reasons I married The Padre. Making time to do so is really, really, really NOT like washing the dishes or making dinner.
When making the time to stop and talk to one's spouse, whether one does that at the kitchen table or in a restaurant, becomes another chore on the to-do list, you're in trouble. When your spouse ceases to be your friend, that's when the marriage begins to end. An affair may not follow directly, but certainly unhappiness will.
Related to Loh's refusal to 'work' on her marriage is the contention that marriage simply does not work. She quotes the work of a couple of anthropologists and evolutionary biologists to support this. The argument is something like, 'The feeling of being in love--the excitement, butterflies, etc.--only lasts around four years, which is long enough to raise a child through the most vulnerable part of his life. And some people seem to be geared more toward an exciting love life with lots of partners. [No real argument for this. It's just tossed out, with a book one can look at for further reference, presumably.] So after the kids are raised, why not just call the whole thing off?' I've read some of the work on evolutionary biology, and I've always found it rather faddy. The evidence never seems very strong, and the arguments tend to assume what they're trying to prove.
I will admit that I'm a bit old-fashioned about commitment and marriage. Meaning that I think one should honor commitments (and be careful about entering into them) and that the failure of a marriage is not the fault of the institution but the individuals in the marriage. Really, is there anything more depressing than an aging playboy?
There are problems with modern marriage, but I think Loh has failed to identify them. The problem isn't that the 'spark' doesn't last for 50 years or that some people are 'built' to be uncommitted. The problem is that modern couples and, especially, families are so isolated. So many of us don't live near our parents or siblings or other family members, who might help to ease the burden of looking after little kids, which, though we love our children, is tiring and a bit lonely.
I remember the best times of my life as a kid were when we went to Northern California, where my paternal grandparents and most of my cousins lived. The grandparents and one uncle and aunt (and my favorite cousin) lived next door to each other on a largish piece of property. The family assembled, we kids went out to play, and the adults could converse. Grandma had a huge bell that she used to call us in for meals. We didn't want or need the adults to entertain us, because we had each other, and as a pack, we could safely roam around, imagining adventures. The same thing happens when we visit The Padre's family--Lev (as Mr. A is being re-web-christened) goes off with his cousins and they play with the dogs or build legos or whatever it is that boys do in their little packs. Auntie, uncle, or grandma are usually delighted to hold a baby, and I can get a bit of alone time. Or adult conversation, without having to make sure my beverage is out of reach of a flailing kid.
It's not only lonely looking after little kids by yourself, it's lonely and a bit stressful when you've only got one friend--your spouse. I adore The Padre, and we have great times, but sometimes I do need my girlfriends. This seems almost disloyal to admit, though I'm not sure why. Throughout my life I've had more than one close friend. Why would that change once I was married? I can't imagine the pressure to be absolutely everything to another person. It's impossible. If no man is an island, no couple should try to be one, either. Our friends give us perspective, snarky humor, and beautifully chilled vodka tonics.
The real problem with marriage, the one that we have to spend a lot of time and energy to overcome, is that we've destroyed the networks of family and friends that used to help keep us sane and healthy. We don't need fewer people to raise kids or make a marriage work, we need more.
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