The Housework Aerobic Workout

     Thirty years ago, Jane Fonda came out with her first workout video.   It became a sensation.  Every woman over 30 wanted to look like Jane.  Aerobic exercise was all the rage, and people started flocking to gyms to get themselves fit and trim.  My mother watched all this with great interest.  Having 5 kids, she did more than her share of housework.   Her statement at the time was….”I don’t have to do aerobics.  I run up and down those stairs a million times a day!”  Now that I am in her position, I know exactly what she means.

     I have it easy compared to my mother.  I only have 2 children, and appliances have gotten more advanced in terms of cleaning.   That doesn’t mean I enjoy it, but there is less scrubbing and rinsing than I remember when I was young.   Still, there is a certain amount of energy and movement that is required for doing these chores.  Lifting, bending, pushing, and stretching are what this body of mine experiences every day.

     I have tried many forms of exercise.   My past workouts consisted mostly of swimming and walking, but I also have lifted weights, used machines, and have done some yoga.   I was in the best shape of my life when my girls were babies and toddlers.  Your arms and abs get fully toned from lifting baby carriers, and taking kids in and out of car seats, shopping carriages, cribs, etc.   You are constantly running after them when they learn to walk.  Now that they are older, the lifting has stopped (not the running), but the work goes on.  Bathrooms, kitchens, laundry, cooking, food shopping, being a taxi never ends, and never goes on vacation.

     I once had a doctor ask me what I did for exercise.  At the time, I was walking the dog 2 miles a day, and taking yoga classes.   HE didn’t seem satisfied with my answer and kept pressing for more.  I finally said…”I never sit.”  That ended of the conversation.  I still walk the dog, try to fit in yoga, and yes, I still do housework.  This being a long winter, the snow blower became my best friend, and I used the shovel so much that my arms didn’t hurt after the third storm.

     I often see groups of women running up and down Main Street where I live.  They have on the all the gear, headbands, running shoes, and seem to do it every day.  They are in perfect shape and look good even when exercising.   But to all the moms out there, who feel they should do more to stay fit, don’t worry about it.  You are all beautiful.  Years later, Jane admitted to surgery.  Take out that vacuum, run up and down those stairs, and know you are great the way you are.

Math, Science, and Girls

     In 1947, a 17 year old young woman graduated from high school in Upstate, NY.   Having an A+ average, she was accepted into New York University.  The following fall, she traveled down to the city to begin her studies in biology.  Two months after receiving her degree, she accepted a job working in the cancer research labs at Sloan-Kettering.  In time, she was in charge of an entire lab.  Who is she?  She is my mother.

    I am perplexed by stories about young women not choosing careers studies in math and science.  So much is discussed and written in terms of the society preventing females from following this path.  While I don’t disagree that there may still be some obstacles out there, I do believe that the family has the biggest impact on the choices of our girls.   My mother’s family didn’t totally understand why she chose to study biology.  They thought nursing was a more viable option.  Yet, they did not prevent her from choosing her major.  The same followed for me and my siblings.  Whatever choices we made regarding school or career was ours to make.

     The fact that I had a parent who was allowed to make such a decision played a huge factor in knowing that I had the freedom to go into science.   My younger sister also made the same choice and became a successful engineer.   The achievement in math and science in my family was considered a good thing, and not something to disregard because we were girls.  I remember at the time some of my peers not having the same encouragement.  Their families felt that it was wiser for their daughters to work in a more traditional female job.  That is perfectly acceptable if it is the choice of the young woman, but if she has the talent and the interest to pursue areas pertaining to math and science, the opportunities are abundant.

     Society is not telling our girls they are not good at math and science.  That is a myth that has been handed down through the years.   Lest we forget the thousands of women who went to work during World War II working on projects that required a great deal of technical aptitude.  There have been many women who have made discoveries besides Madam Curie not present in our history books.  There are numerous female doctors, engineers, researchers, and professors who are presently working in a multitude of capacities.   There are a considerable number of female high school science teachers who present a role model to our children every day.  No one in “society” is telling our girls not to pursue their dreams.

     In 1947, a brilliant young woman walked her own path.  There were many others just like her who paved the road way before the issue of female equality was explored.  If they were able to do it during their lifetime, there is no reason why women today can’t as well.  It takes determination, hard work, encouragement, and a desire to live out a chance of fulfillment.  Let us stop telling stories about women not doing something because of society, and start telling about women who do because they can.

A Closet Full of Memories

     I was 7 months pregnant, and had a 2 year old when we bought our present home.   My vow not to accumulate piles of stuff evaporated once I had a baby, a toddler, and 4 pets to look after.  That was 8 years ago.  Into my closet I stored away, clothes, cameras, important papers, cards, crafts, old tickets to shows, and various other items I deemed necessary to keep.   Finally, this week, I decided to clean out the mess it had become.

     I have no problem getting rid of clothes and shoes.  There are items that I haven’t worn in about 10 years.  Most are terribly outdated.   Some I just don’t wear, so the various piles of donating and throwing out are being made.  Looking at these old clothes reminds me of what I was doing at the time, and places I have been, but the memories are in my head and don’t need to be worn.   They say if you haven’t put it on in 2 years, get rid of it.  Consider it done.  I’ve gone from “Maybe I will wear it sometime.” to “You know you are never going to wear it.”

     Next on the list is paper.  This is a major problem for me.   Lately I have been better, but I tend to let papers pile up.   I have old bills for items I bought or had serviced.   I have receipts for when I bought my car and when it was maintained.  I have old bank statements for accounts I closed years ago.  I have outdated papers regarding my teaching certification.  Since social security numbers are printed on just about everything, the shredder is working overtime.  The satisfaction is seeing the piles of these papers disappear.  Yes, I remember the day I bought that car.  Yes, I remember how I worked to maintain my teaching credentials.  It all seems like a lifetime ago, but I remember.

     Other items are more personal in nature.  My wedding dress and cards that we were given.  I have a collection of old cameras that I want to keep.  Pictures and ticket stubs to events I attended.  Items I picked up on trips.  Purses, tote bags, and hats which are unique and actually used.  These I will keep, but I will seriously have to think about purchasing anything similar when it catches my eye.  Do I really need for more to end up in the closet?

     Lastly, and with more difficulty, are the papers that involve my children.  I have cards sent when they were born.  I have papers from the hospital.  I have everything they made in preschool and kindergarten in my closet.  (First grade on is somewhere else.)  I have piles of photos of when they were babies.  Looking back, I wonder where the time has gone.  They were so little and now my oldest is 11.  Her sister is 8.  Those years of early childhood…gone.   Yet they still have so much growing to do.  I am enjoying this age of being able to have a discussion with them.  I enjoy watching their interests and skills develop.  The best part about seeing those old photos, crafts they made and stories they wrote, is that it all makes me smile.  I don’t know if I am going to be able to part with any of it.  I think I’ll be making some scrapbooks very soon.  Until then..shhhhh…I’ll keep it all in the closet.

Mirror, Mirror, Who is That?

     I don’t like to shop.  Let me rephrase that, I don’t like to shop for me.  I have a hard time finding clothes I like.  Maybe I’m too picky.  Maybe I don’t care.  In reality, I’m a blue jeans girl in a fashionista world.  My idea of looking presentable these days is a newer pair of jeans with a comfortable top.  I appreciate good fashion, and I like watching Project Runway, but the whole ordeal of finding something to wear is exhausting and frustrating.  There are times however, when an occasion arises that forces me into the mall.

     Recently I was invited to a wedding.  Looking in the closet, I realized I hadn’t bought a dressy outfit in about 10 years.  Some still fit, but none seemed suitable enough to wear to a winter event.  So, I eventually decided to hit the mall.  I was determined to find something.  I walked the entire length, went into every store, and eventually landed in Macy’s.  I was surprised to actually find a few dresses to try on given the fact that many were for a much younger woman or, for a much older woman.  Being in that middle age range is like falling into the black hole of apparel.

    I was appreciative that the saleswomen didn’t follow me into the dressing room.  I know what I like, and know if I like how it looks on me.  I hung my selections on the hook, undressed, and turned around.  Maybe it was the glow of the fluorescent light.  Maybe it was the multiple angles in which I was given the opportunity to observe myself.  Maybe it was because I was tired and in bad need of a haircut.  I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me.  Suddenly I looked so much older than I do in my mirror at home.  Suddenly I looked about 10 pounds overweight.   I looked like a cross between a before picture and a mug shot.  Who was that stranger looking back at me?

    After getting over the initial shock, I found a nice dress and was happy with my purchase.  The next week I got a haircut.  For some reason, it always makes me feel lighter and energized.  The wedding was fun (more in another post) and I had a great time.  Last week I was thinking about the eyes we look out with.  The eyes that make an effort to be happy, smile, and enjoy life as well as deal with hard times.  The eyes that observe all around us and help us make wise decisions.  The eyes that look toward the future, reminisce about the past, and watch generations move along.  Aging of the body is a natural process in which we have no control.  More important is how we feel, how we live, and what we experience.  The mirror doesn’t show us that.

Mirror, Mirror, Who is THAT?

     I don’t like to shop.  Let me rephrase that, I don’t like to shop for me.  I have a hard time finding clothes I like.  Maybe I’m too picky.  Maybe I don’t care.  In reality, I’m a blue jeans girl in a fashionista world.  My idea of looking presentable these days is a newer pair of jeans with a comfortable top.  I appreciate good fashion, and I like watching Project Runway, but the whole ordeal of finding something to wear is exhausting and frustrating.  There are times however, when an occasion arises that forces me into the mall.

     Recently I was invited to a wedding.  Looking in the closet, I realized I hadn’t bought a dressy outfit in about 10 years.  Some still fit, but none seemed suitable enough to wear to a winter event.  So, I eventually decided to hit the mall.  I was determined to find something.  I walked the entire length, went into every store, and eventually landed in Macy’s.  I was surprised to actually find a few dresses to try on given the fact that many were for a much younger woman or, for a much older woman.  Being in that middle age range is like falling into the black hole of apparel.

    I was appreciative that the saleswomen didn’t follow me into the dressing room.  I know what I like, and know if I like how it looks on me.  I hung my selections on the hook, undressed, and turned around.  Maybe it was the glow of the fluorescent light.  Maybe it was the multiple angles in which I was given the opportunity to observe myself.  Maybe it was because I was tired and in bad need of a haircut.  I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me.  Suddenly I looked so much older than I do in my mirror at home.  Suddenly I looked about 10 pounds overweight.   I looked like a cross between a before picture and a mug shot.  Who was that stranger looking back at me?

    After getting over the initial shock, I found a nice dress and was happy with my purchase.  The next week I got a haircut.  For some reason, it always makes me feel lighter and energized.  The wedding was fun (more in another post) and I had a great time.  Last week I was thinking about the eyes we look out with.  The eyes that make an effort to be happy, smile, and enjoy life as well as deal with hard times.  The eyes that observe all around us and help us make wise decisions.  The eyes that look toward the future, reminisce about the past, and watch generations move along.  Aging of the body is a natural process in which we have no control.  More important is how we feel, how we live, and what we experience.  The mirror doesn’t show us that.

Equal Pay for Equal Work is Overdue

This week, the senate rejected a bill that would have guaranteed equal pay for equal work.  Naturally it wasn’t a major headline in the news.  The reasoning by some is that employers will have a hard time making up the difference, or that there will be an onslaught of lawsuits filed against business owners.  It is outrageous that this issue even exists.  When was it decided that one worker, doing the exact same job, with the exact same skill, is paid more than another.  Oh wait.  That’s right.  The other worker is a woman.

Woman fought for the right to vote.  The feminist movement in the 70s, worked towards providing rights in the workplace, and society at large.  Title IX was passed to insure equity in providing sports for female athletes.  Yet here we are today, in 2012, still fighting for what is fair and equal.  Why is it that every group in this country has to fight for what is granted by the Constitution?  How many times does the same script have to be written and played out before the ending comes out satisfactorily?  The call for equal pay for women has been going on for decades.  There have been some acts passed to help ensure it, but the fact remains that women are still being paid less than men.

Most single parent homes are supported solely on the income of mothers.  They are working hard to support themselves and their children.  To think that they, or any woman, are getting paid 77 cents to the dollar because of their gender is ridiculous.  What happens when women go in for the interview?  Does a skirt mean you need less money to survive?  Is their education or training of lesser quality than that of men?  Women have come a long way since the 20s, the 50s, and the 70s.  This type of pay discrimination should have been settled a long time ago.

My last thought lies with all the young women who are studying and working towards a career.  Of women who are working to make a better life for themselves and families.  How do we tell them that the work they do is not on par with their male counterparts.  There are actually some who have stated that women are looking for a handout.   That they have to work for what is fair and even.   Women have been working hard for years.  In some cases even harder than men, because they knew they had to in order to prove themselves.   In reality, many have been doing more than the guy sitting next to them and getting less for it.  The male dominated senate needs to understand the terminology.   The keyword word isn’t “more”, it is “equal”.   Now is the time to pay up and do what is right.  It is long overdue.