I can’t believe I’m writing this: Bill O’Riley said something the other day and I don’t know whether I agree or disagree with him. Those are words I never thought I’d say. Typically that man makes me cringe and yell. Most often, though, I ignore him.
Jennifer Aniston is staring in a new movie, “The Switch.” From what I’ve read, the movie is about a single woman being impregnated by a sperm donor. Recently, J. Aniston (come on, though, how my age doesn’t still think of her as Rachel?) told reporters that motherhood is something more women are finding accessible, even without a man:
Women are realizing it more and more, knowing that they don’t have to settle with a man just to have that child. Love is love and family is what is around you and who is in your immediate sphere.
As if Bill O’Riley doesn’t say enough, he shot back with a response, one that made me think twice. In fact, it’s one I’m still thinking about. He responded:
Dads bring a psychology to children that is in this society, I believe, under-emphasized. I think men get hosed all day long in the parental arena.
Aniston retorted with this gem:
Of course, the ideal scenario for parenting is obviously two parents of a mature age. Parenting is one of the hardest jobs on earth. And, of course, many women dream of finding Prince Charming (with fatherly instincts), but for those who’ve not yet found their Bill O’Reilly, I’m just glad science has provided a few other options.
As a woman in her late 20s, I know that my child bearing days are numbered. Not that I feel like I must have kids tomorrow, but at 27, I have no serious male prospects in the picture. And, in fact, haven’t had a relationship that has lasted longer than six months. Yet, there are a few things I know I want: I want a husband and a want to raise a family. I have always been, without a doubt, a feminist. My mother is and was the most ardent feminist I knew growing up; she experienced all sorts of obstacles in her career simply because she was a woman. However, she knew what she wanted and I know few women who are as successful, happy, and independent as my mother, both personally and professionally.
Then there’s my dad. My mom and I have had numerous discussions on what a wonderful man my dad is, both husband and father. Time and time again my mom has said, “You will be so lucky if you can find a man who is half the man your father is.” She’s right and I know it. Maybe that’s why I’ve not had a really long-term relationship at the age of 27. I have Daddy-issues, but I think I have the good kind.
My mom is a businesswoman. When I turned four-weeks old, she had to go back to work. In those days, maternity leave was almost non-existent and paternity leave? Ha, don’t even think about it. However, my dad is a teacher. Sure, my brother and I went to daycare and had babysitters in the summertime, but we spent an incredible amount of time with our father. My parents worked hard to create a life that allowed their children to grow up differently than they did. Don’t get me wrong, my parents both come from loving, supportive families, but times were different when they grew up. My mom, one of five children, tells stories of drinking powdered milk when times were lean. Still, though, she had very loving and supportive parents. She always knew the value of working hard since as soon as she was eligible, her parents made her get not one, but two jobs so she could pay her own way. She paid her own way through college, working sometime as many as three jobs.
My dad, too, grew up in lean times. His parents were married at the age of 15 and he was born as the second oldest, the middle child, to two 18 year olds. His father worked road construction during the long hot Kansas days and in the evenings and weekends, he farmed. He didn’t, however, do it alone. My grandmother put herself through college, while raising three kids, eventually graduating with a degree in education. Not only did she mother three children, one who had disabilities, but she ruled with an iron fist. She was not a housewife nor a famer’s wife; she was ruler of the home and also a farmer. One can imagine, though, that working 18 hours a day doesn’t lend much time to play. My dad tells wonderful stories of him and his brother as playmates; the games they used to play, the fun they used to have on the farm, and the responsibilities they had to take on at young ages. One thing that was missing from my dad’s life was play time with his parents. There wasn’t time for play. It’s not something my dad has ever complained about to me. But he told my mother when she was pregnant with me, that he would never tell his children “no” when they asked to play. And live up to that promise he did. He continues to live up to that promise even as his youngest is 22. He use to, and I’m sure he still does refer to himself as my brother’s “boy toy.”
My dad’s father has been a phenomenal grandfather; he dotes on everything we do and everything we say. He delights in our achievements and wants to know about our lives in the big city. He has moved my brother in and out of our Chicago apartments more times than I have. My dad is a sentimental man, whether he’ll admit it or not, especially when it comes to his kids. I’m not sure that he knows how special he is to my brother and I, nor that among dads he’s one-of-a-kind. I don’t think he looks at himself as doing anything out of the ordinary, but among the father’s I know, there’s no man who’s been more committed in word and action to his family than my father.
One of the things we often did with my dad was to walk three holes of golf. We lived on number nine of the local golf course and my dad learned to golf when he married my mother, who grew up with a golfing father. My dad is a great athlete and golf is something he has excelled at. Many a summer evening, after he’d cooked dinner and done the dishes, dad would grab his driver, a five wood and his putter, and invite us to walk holes seven, eight and nine with him. Often, we’d get our own clubs and hit the course with dad. One evening, grandpa was visiting and went with us. As a man who worked no less than twelve hours a day, grandpa didn’t have time for hobbies until much later in life and golf was never something he did. But he walked with us, spending time with his middle-child and oldest two grandchildren. As we walked up number nine, he said to my dad, with tears in his eyes, “This is something I never got to do with my children.” Those words chill me to this day. I don’t see them as words of regret from my grandfather for he did what he did to survive and to support his family. There really was no other choice. My dad was able to attend college, unlike his own father, and provide for his children doing much less labor-intensive work than his father. Like his father, my dad also did what he had to do, most often working at a job that was frustrating and not as fulfilling as he once thought it would be.
My mother showed me that even as a woman, you could make it in a man’s world. She not only is a successful entrepreneur, but she did it in a field where men dominate. My father always told me that I could be anyone and do anything I wanted; all I had to do was work hard and take considerable pride in what I did.
So I struggle with O’Riley’s words. I certainly wouldn’t be half the woman I am today without my father. Nor would I without my mother. But because I have had such phenomenal parents, I know that if I want to raise a child by myself, something I don’t see as being all that far-fetched, I strongly disagree with O’Riley. Is raising a child with only one parent ideal? No. Honestly, I long for the day when it’s not out-of-the-ordinary for a single man to raise a child on his own. And I mean in the sense that men are often complimented when they are seen with their children, without a mother-figure, on “babysitting for the day,” or, “taking them off of mom’s hands.” You’re right, Bill O’Riley, that fatherhood is often underscored. Yet, you’ve still managed to miss the point. Men and woman have never “needed” one another to survive. Yes, men and women do need the necessary parts to procreate, but men are exceptional fathers and women are exceptional mothers.
These days, though, is there an ideal? Most adults I know have fond, fond memories of childhood. Most would say they’d not change one thing, even if they grew up absent a parent or two, due to death or divorce. My nature is to look at the best in people and I guess that’s where O’Riley and I differ; he doesn’t. I honestly doubt he believes that one person could raise a child on their own; male or female. So, Bill, if I may, you are wrong once again. Your words have made me think, which for you is a step in the right direction as your words typically make me angry. Today, your words have empowered me once more. Made me believe even more strongly in the power of humanity and the belief that one day, I can have whatever I want, whether it be with a man or not. So I’ll stop with words I’d never thought I’d say: Thanks, Bill O’Riley.
Girl in 3K
