Strollerderby : jealousy

A Mother Stalks Her Young Son’s Crush

Hannah Tennant-Moore — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 21:00:00 GMT

“He did not linger long enough for me to squash him completely into myself….”

The above is not, unfortunately, a sentence from a soft core porn novel. It is an excerpt from a New York Times essay in which a mother describes her obsessive, jealous, and blind love for her nine-year-old son. Thanks to Jezebel for directing me to this gem of a Modern Love piece.

The only thing creepier than the essay’s title—“The Tiny Hand that Robs the Cradle”—is the fact that this tiny hand belongs to a third grader who has a crush on the author’s son. Somebody call a family therapist, stat.

Kate Krautkramer is a teacher at her son Sarvis’ school. When she learns that one of his classmates has scrawled “I ‘heart’ Sarvis” in the bathroom stall, she completely loses her mind. In hopes of discovering the identity of this “little vixen” who was so unforgivably bold as to publicly proclaim an interest in her little boy, the jealous mother turns first to the principal, then to her son’s female classmates, who all “acted innocent in their double braids tied with impossibly pink ribbons.”

With no leads, Krautkramer takes to using the bathroom stall with the Sarvis graffiti every single day. She leans her body against her son’s name and traces the heart with her hand. She comforts herself with the thought that “Graffiti Girl,” as Kautkramer derisively terms her son’s classmate, “didn’t know Sarvis the way I knew Sarvis, no matter what the bathroom wall proclaimed.” But she also torments herself with thoughts of one of Sarvis’s nine-year-old peers “turning her 18-inch hips just so for the very first time, or taking a try at batting her lashes.”

I understand that there is irony at work in this essay. Yet no amount of irony can take away the extreme mortification the author’s son will have to withstand for the rest of his life, now that his mother has publicly confessed not only to having Oedipal urges that would make Freud blush, but also to being clinically insane.

Besides, the irony frequently gives way to disturbingly honest reflection: “I knew it was only an innocent crush, yet I truly lamented that some little girl was pushing my boy into a vaguely sexual consciousness.” Actually, neither Sarvis nor his classmate are displaying any "sexual consciousness." They’re just kids. The mother is the one who sexualizes youth by referring to the girls’ “tiny blue jeans and frilly tops,” and by describing Sarvis’s hair as “brown ringlets” that “hung in heart-stopping whorls down his neck.”

If Kautkramer’s goal is to make sure that her son never marries (or goes on a date), mission accomplished. No girl in her right mind would ever put up with this woman as a mother-in-law.

Photo: New York Times

Let's Do The Time Warp ... Again?

Adrienne Martini — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 15:00:00 GMT

Yes, yes. In the sisterhood, we all have to respect each other's choices. Got it. Still, something about the whole "stay-at-home" wife debate got my back up. Great, I thought, that you have made a choice to devote yourself to your husband's care -- but don't expect me to think that what you do is worthy of admiration.

Just when I was moving past my grouch about that, I stumbled upon something that made my jaw drop. Literally. And, for the record, I am not a jaw-dropper.

Welcome to the world of Time Warp Wives, women whose sole purpose is to pretend that they live in a different era -- in this case, the 1950s, '40s and '30s -- while they take care of their men.

In addition to the cooking, cleaning and flower arranging, I suspect they also spend a lot of time in thrift stores. But that is only a hunch.

Here's one of the many money quotes:

"But I often wonder if [my husband's] colleagues aren't slightly jealous that he has a wife who devotes herself to his happiness. How many men these days can really say that?"

Read the story and give a shout if your jaw drops, too. I'd like to know that I'm not the only one. I mean, I don't really begrudge these women their choice -- but I also really don't understand it.

Pimping Kids Is Just a Mother's Way

Kelly Mills — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 21:30:00 GMT

When the big controversy over David Shuster saying Hilary was "pimping" out Chelsea hit, I was actually kinda jealous. Yeah, it's probably an offensive way to describe Chelsea doing her part for the campaign, and aside from conjuring up images of Hilary wearing a hat with a feather in it and a shiny suit, it certainly implies that Ms. Clinton is just using her daughter for her own selfish interests without any consideration of the wellbeing of her girl. But my envy sprung from another source: How lucky for Hilary that her kid will actually do stuff to help her mom out. My kid has been resisting pimping efforts since the day she was born, refusing to demonstrate her language skills on command or do cute things for the relatives or seem at all obedient or gifted when I'd like her to show off for anyone. No tricks for her, and if I'm in danger of suspension, that pun is totally unintended.

On HuffPo, there's an amazingly funny bit by Linda Keenan on the myriad ways she pimps out her child. Not only did I cry laughing, but I got a few ideas on ways I might finally be able to successfully pimp the kid (the bad music one is a stroke of genius, as is the firefighter oogling.) And I have to tell you that since it's almost Valentine's Day, I'm completely in love with Linda Keenan, she's a surefire blast of funny and irreverent in the middle of far too many uptight, righteous, and earnest posts over there (not all are like that of course, but some, oh my lord...) Yep, I'd ho that woman's brilliant stuff out any day.