Well, it’s Thanksgiving and I’m up early. Unlike most sunrise mornings, though, it doesn’t feel quite so lonely. I know all over the country, women are padding around in their kitchens, bed-head haired and unbra-ed, turning on ovens, getting out mixing bowls, and trying not to make too many clanking noises. But that’s not why I’m up. Purry kittens and a fussy back are what got me out of bed and in front of the computer this morning.
I’m not sure why I never really noticed it before, but this year it has really struck me how much stress this holiday seems to produce in the women folk. And yes, I know there are plenty of men out there who are the ones clanking around in the kitchen. But in general, the Thanksgiving Feast falls to the women. And while many women seem to enjoy it – providing and nurturing and sneaking early nibbles – there is also an underlying panic.
For the last week, I’ve found it hard to have a real conversation with many women. Oh, they’ll talk, but behind the chit chat they are busy making lists of groceries and serving bowls and side dishes and place settings and toilets to clean before the guests arrive. Maybe I’ve noticed it this year because I’m not really participating. We’re not making a dinner; we’re not even bringing a dish to someone else’s feast. Nope. For the first time in our history together, Rob and I are going to a restaurant this afternoon and paying someone else to do the shopping, prepping, and panicking. We’ll join two other couples and then we will all come back to Woodhaven for wine and homemade pumpkin cheesecake. Well, homemade by someone at Costco.
So far it feels a little strange not to be distracted by a million things to do and remember this morning. I sort of feel like I am getting away with something. But I do need to clean a few toilets. And we are having cousins over on Saturday for Thanksgiving Tacos, so I will pay my dues soon. That reminds me...I should have bought some avocados yesterday for the guacamole. Ooops.
1 comment:
We've been doing restaurant Thanksgivings for a few years now, and it's a great relief. The only thing we insist on having homemade is pumpkin pie with real whipped cream--it's a major family tradition.
My mother (a.k.a. the Grinch's sister) maintains that holidays are for men and children, and women are never allowed time in between the cooking and cleaning and ten thousand other chores to enjoy any given holiday. That is not to say that men don't do anything worthwhile in that regard--my mother got my brother pretty well trained in that department, for example--but it's an uphill battle, fighting tradition.
My immediate family used to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with close family friends (which we did most of the time I was growing up, all the way through my early 30s), since we had no other family nearby. On one of these occasions, when I was about 30, I decided to pretend I was male in terms of dealing with the chores involved. I watched what the men did and followed their lead. Before dinner, everyone helped, with some time-outs for conversation. After dinner, all of the other women got up and went into the kitchen to deal with the dishes. I can't remember the last time I was as uncomfortable as I was as I sat there, the only woman still sitting among all of the men.
Nobody ever said anything to me about my little experiment, but even so, it really brought home to me how much of a difference there was in expectations, despite my mother's efforts to make things more balanced. The only time I can remember ever seeing any woman sitting down during a holiday gathering while men were dealing with kitchen chores was the one year one of the family friends was recovering from a hysterectomy.
Of course, in that instance, many of the people involved were in their 60s or 70s, and younger people are generally better about doing what needs to be done regardless of traditional gender-related divisions of labor. I do have to admit that I'm a bit hypersensitive to such things, even while I recognize that everyone is responsible for working out their own household arrangements. I just always wished that the fact that I mowed the lawn and hauled firewood would get me a comparable reduction in KP duties.
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