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Great showers of babies, Batman!
Monday, 29 August 2005 10:32 amWell, so much for the Trappist monastery. The Big Seekrit Surprise Baby-Shower for wolverine_nun & family happened yesterday, and Evil Landlord made gluhwein. Bad. Very bad. Well, very good gluhwein, but fatally easy to drink.
Of course, a lot of the drinking has to do with the fact that I don't care for, as in deeply loathe and detest, baby showers*, and endure them solely for the sake of friends for whom I do care. This is true even of the relaxed, non-traditional, both-sexes incarnation of current baby shower etiquette. There is something about the whole weight of cultural expectation/investment in baby-production which makes me twitchy and claustrophobic and inclined to run miles in the opposite direction, screaming and sweating. Alcohol helps a lot in cushioning the agony, thus preventing the startlement of expectant mothers by sudden eruptions on the part of her guests.
It's not that I dislike babies, per se. It's that I dislike the notion of babies as a cultural construction. Like the difference between gender and sex. Something about human society suddenly snaps to attention at the mere whiff of babies, ready to rally around with a bunch of assumptions around the notion that babies are absolutely, completely and inalienably the finest and most important goal of the human race. Apart from the outrage this causes my psycho-feminist convictions, the problem, I think, is that by and large I don't like the human race that much, and am not convinced that it absolutely needs continuation. (See previous posts on orang-utans. Orang-utans, being sensible creatures, don't have baby showers.)
Besides, baby showers alienate me profoundly. They confront me with the need to provide gifts in an area where I have absolutely no expertise and not much interest, and I'm always convinced that what I do provide is the wrong size, shape, colour, alignment or level**. I am forced to face the fact that a lot of my friends are now residing on Planet Baby, which, however fond I am of them, is an alien territory whither I, in my unoffspringed state, may not follow them. Not that I particularly want to, but it's getting a bit lonely on Planet UnOffspringed. (I derive a small amount of consolation from contemplating the happy mental image of Lara's reaction when someone attempts, with malice aforethought, to hand her a dribbling baby. I am not totally alone).
Besides, hemming baby blankets has put my back out something 'orrible, and I'm feeling more like Granny Weatherwax than ever before. Which may explain some of the above rantage. Sorry. *shuffles cronelike off in search of more muscle relaxants*
* What the hell's with the name, anyway? Showers of babies? Makes no sense! My dictionary insists that one meaning of the word is "to lavishly bestow with gifts", which I assume is what they mean. Where's the OED when you need it?
** "What do you mean, I shouldn't give a baby a Red Dragon? Red Dragons make excellent mothers!"
Of course, a lot of the drinking has to do with the fact that I don't care for, as in deeply loathe and detest, baby showers*, and endure them solely for the sake of friends for whom I do care. This is true even of the relaxed, non-traditional, both-sexes incarnation of current baby shower etiquette. There is something about the whole weight of cultural expectation/investment in baby-production which makes me twitchy and claustrophobic and inclined to run miles in the opposite direction, screaming and sweating. Alcohol helps a lot in cushioning the agony, thus preventing the startlement of expectant mothers by sudden eruptions on the part of her guests.
It's not that I dislike babies, per se. It's that I dislike the notion of babies as a cultural construction. Like the difference between gender and sex. Something about human society suddenly snaps to attention at the mere whiff of babies, ready to rally around with a bunch of assumptions around the notion that babies are absolutely, completely and inalienably the finest and most important goal of the human race. Apart from the outrage this causes my psycho-feminist convictions, the problem, I think, is that by and large I don't like the human race that much, and am not convinced that it absolutely needs continuation. (See previous posts on orang-utans. Orang-utans, being sensible creatures, don't have baby showers.)
Besides, baby showers alienate me profoundly. They confront me with the need to provide gifts in an area where I have absolutely no expertise and not much interest, and I'm always convinced that what I do provide is the wrong size, shape, colour, alignment or level**. I am forced to face the fact that a lot of my friends are now residing on Planet Baby, which, however fond I am of them, is an alien territory whither I, in my unoffspringed state, may not follow them. Not that I particularly want to, but it's getting a bit lonely on Planet UnOffspringed. (I derive a small amount of consolation from contemplating the happy mental image of Lara's reaction when someone attempts, with malice aforethought, to hand her a dribbling baby. I am not totally alone).
Besides, hemming baby blankets has put my back out something 'orrible, and I'm feeling more like Granny Weatherwax than ever before. Which may explain some of the above rantage. Sorry. *shuffles cronelike off in search of more muscle relaxants*
* What the hell's with the name, anyway? Showers of babies? Makes no sense! My dictionary insists that one meaning of the word is "to lavishly bestow with gifts", which I assume is what they mean. Where's the OED when you need it?
** "What do you mean, I shouldn't give a baby a Red Dragon? Red Dragons make excellent mothers!"
