havlin's Open Salon Blog

Who's Suckling Whom?

Thu, 10 May 2012 16:05:12 -0400

Salon's always excellent Mary Elizabeth Williams has a blog today on Time Magazine's provocative new cover article, Are You Mom Enough? which is, as Williams points out,"accompanied, by the way, by a picture of a hot blonde and her 3-year-old son standing on a chair to suckle her breast. " (Partial image below). The article is one salvo in a flurry of what seem to be recent competing essays on "attachment parenting," and is the latest battle in the so-called "Mommy Wars." Sigh.

The question that always arises for me in discussions of "trends" in parenting is this: Whose need gets met? Parents have the power in the relationship, and too often it's their needs that are being met.

Disclaimer: I am a grandmother now, but the first time I put my first son to my breast, I had a sexual thrill as if a hot wire had been run from my nipple to my clitoris and the switch turned full ON. To "eleven." I despaired of ever being able to tolerate such an intensely sexual feeling every time my son needed to be fed, but thankfully it faded to a bearably pleasant sensation rather quickly. I know how good breastfeeding feels, and how profoundly it is entwined with sex. I also know how good it is for infants. I breastfed all three of my sons.

As a young mother, I had a friend whose son was the same age as mine; we were both breastfeeding and happy about it, but I felt uncomfortable when, in the playground or in a department store, she would pull up her shirt and ask her already ambulatory son, "Craig-y . . . wanna suck?" Especially when there were young men nearby in the playground shooting hoops, or male salespeople in the store turning bright red . . . I remember asking myself "Who is nursing whom?"

I agree with Hanna Roisin that the cult of attachment parenting is creepy, as is the extension of breastfeeding into the toddler years. I was as hip and crunchy as it was possible to be in the 70s, with my Lamaze classes, my Earth shoes, and my hand-cranked baby-food mill. But attachment parenting reminds me of that awful young mother I knew back in those days, and I wonder once again, "who's nursing whom? Whose needs are getting met?"

Book Bust!

Thu, 10 May 2012 10:05:00 -0400

One of the last things my short-lived association with my lovely, local PR person produced was an agreement to promote my books, particularly my spiritual memoir, The Soul Workout, at a series of readings and signings at a local coffeehouse chain . . . not Starbucks . . . another chain-that-shall-not-be-named, that hosts such events.

I should have realized things were ill-omened when the contact person proved extremely difficult to contact. When she did get in touch with me, it was to complain that I hadn't sent her the flyer to promote the event, when actually, I had. She eventually located it . . . in her junk folder. All seemed to be straightened out, but when I arrived at the event location, there was nary a flyer in sight . . . the two hip young baristas were adorable, and tried their best to help, but the event was doomed. A book bust if there ever was one!

Kim, my boyfriend, was working late, so it was just me and our family friend and faithful retainer, John C who comprised the audience. That is if you don't count the three despondent-looking coffee drinkers and the fellow wearing ear-buds and a pained expression as his fingers paused lazily above his laptop.

Ever the spunky urban goddess, I rallied, and John C and I waited around for a long half hour before we packed up and left. If I had hoped any foot traffic would arrive to alleviate the desolation, I was mistaken. Although the economy is rumored to be recovering, that rumor has not yet reached The District at Green Valley Ranch, it seems. The architecture there is lovely, and unblemished by the stain of human activity! What a perfect place to take a nap it looked . . . not a soul to disturb one's "esteemed repose!"

Oh, well. Humility is a virtue, and one I need to cultivate, evidently. I hope the next scheduled event, in Town Square on May 16, is better attended. I was looking forward to regaling at least a small crowd with scorching hot poetry about men, women, sex, relationships, and everything else that a "spiritual memoir" should contain. I guess I'll just have to keep a sense of humor about the whole adventure!

Mother's Day

Tue, 8 May 2012 12:05:00 -0400

Greetings, Urban Goddesses, Glam-mas, Glamazons, and GILFs! Mother's Day approaches. I don't think I've been doing it right, because for me Mother's Day usually involves a visit from the family-- all eleven sons, daughters-in-law, and related offspring, plus a girlfriend, if middle son happens to be dating, a family friend, a stepson, and my honey. We all crowd into my tiny, acoustically challenged house, and talk, laugh, tell stories, hold babies, eat, eat, and eat. There may or may not be a pinata. This is my idea of heaven.

My friends look at me in goggle-eyed amazement... "Don't your kids take you out to dinner?!" Well, actually . . . no, they don't. Isn't that MY job?

On or around my family's special days, I make whatever they want to eat, feed it to them, enjoy their company, and then send them off home with whatever we haven't eaten. I think when the day comes that I don't feel like doing this any more I will know I am old.

So let me ask you . . . what should I be doing on Mother's Day? Let me know what you like to do...

Kardashian Kulture, Explained (Or Where Have All the Celebrity Poets Gone?)

Thu, 26 Apr 2012 16:04:00 -0400

In today's Slate magazine online, the ever-charming Simon Doonan asks, "Where did all the accomplished people go?" It's true, there used to be celebrity poets. Now there are Kardashians. I think I know why.

Marshall McLuhan, the celebrated (!) Canadian communications theorist, philosophised that "the medium is the message," and boy was he right. In Understanding Media (1951) McLuhan claimed that when one of our senses is "extended" through a new medium, our sensory balance is altered in such a way that the other senses become dimmed or "narcotized." The hot (medium) versus cool (medium) distinction claims that hot media deliver information in high definition, and hence require little effort from the receiver. Cool media, on the other hand, provide little information, forcing the receiver to fill in what is missing to make sense out of the message, thus demanding a high degree of participation by the receiver."

The above is a quote from the Gale Encyclopedia of Biography (online).

Since the invention of the mass medium of the movies, the sense that has been heightened is that of sight, the sense to which Kim Kardashian (and her ilk) most appeal. Other senses, those that might be required in order to appreciate the cultural celebrities of my youth--the Mahalia Jacksons, the Bertrand Russells, the Nureyevs and the Callasses and the Barnards have been, as McLuhan foresaw, "narcotized."

Since our collective intellect (including our appreciation of discourse, philosophy, and the life of the mind in general) has been, in McLuhan's parlance, drugged, about all we can do is goggle "in dumb amaze" at what Simon Doonan in today's Slate online calls "audacious women with impressive racks."

I may be wrong, but I don't think so. How else to explain the universally decried yet appallingly tenacious ubiquity of these talentless ciphers, the Kardashians? They look good, and that's all we are capable of appreciating any more, evidently.

What do you think?

Pancake Party!

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 13:04:00 -0400

Juno, my niece, and her husband, Aaron, came to town last week. The only time she had for a visit was Saturday morning, and a Saturday morning visit means just one thing around these parts: Pancake Party!

Sarah, my daughter-in-law (of My Family Herbals) makes a delicious chamomile-infused syrup that can't be beat, as well as a fantabulous whipped honey butter--but she ran out of chamomile on Friday, and so, working fast and on the fly as we are wont to do, we whipped up trays of Egg Bake Casserole and Pecan French Toast! MMM-mmm!

Taba, Paul, and their gang (Damien, Scarlet, Clementine and Tesla), Kim and Anthony, Juno, Aaron, Mike, Sarah, Amy Rose and Collin all tucked in, and a rollicking, raucous time was had by all. Too bad Matt had to work!

I'm so glad my family all enjoy each other's company so much! We have such a good laugh together our sides hurt and tears stream from our eyes! What fun!