Mammoth

I urge any couple struggling to raise a family while holding down a job and trying to keep up the life style without going insane to watch Mammoth, starring Michelle Williams and Gael Garcia Bernal. It is the latest movie by Swedish director Lukas Moodyson, who hit it big time a few years ago with such diverse movies like Show Me Love (teenage love), Together (Swedish commune living in the 70's) and Lily4ever (human trafficking).

To me, Mammoth is not trying to be clever or pretend to "know the answer about everything" even though it could seem so at first, with it's constant use of obvious symbolism and stark super-realism. If anything, it is almost over-simplistic in it's way of layering corresponding stories that are both mirror reflections and consequences of each other.

The desperate inability to reach out is making the characters unable to speak their mind and or put words to their feelings and is hurting them all in different ways and it is difficult to watch them struggle with unwanted silence and the constant feelings of alienation but at the same time so familiar, so close to home: The desperate phone conversations between the young married couple at the heart of the plot, unsuccessfully trying to share moments with each other whilst not even in the same country, fighting time zones, sleep-deprivation and cultural adrenalin seems very familiar to me. And the constant feelings of guilt that is tearing them up, to work so hard but to never be enough, never having enough time, holding on to the tiny glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, next week it will be better, we will work less, travel less, have more time to spend with our daughter - that is the foundation of so many families in the Western world today.

It is not a happy Friday night film by any standards, but it is a film that will not leave you alone for a long while, and it is very thought provoking.

I have failed as mother

We always tell Kate that she can be anything she wants but until today, we have stupidly forgotten the "as long as you out your mind to it" - part.

Before the Holidays, she asked me what I had wanted to become when I was little.
- I always wanted to become a writer, I said.
- Oh, she said, with genuine upset in her voice. And that didn't happen.
- Well, it hasn't happened yet, I said, trying to sound cheerful.

Granted, to be a "writer" is a matter of definition. If being a "writer" means you sit at home with your note-pad and lap top and churn out short stories, diary-entries and blog posts that no one reads, than yes, by all means, I am a bona fide writer. But if it means getting your texts published, seeing your name in publications or on the book shelf of your local book store, then no, I am very darn far from being a writer. (And since Kate's definition of work is "when you leave the house in the morning to do very boring stuff at a desk and come home late at night just like daddy", I doubt she would choose to let me get away with calling me anything else but plain "mommy".)

Kate's ambitions ranges from becoming a prima ballerina or artist to a paleontologist and, as we've already seen, married with kids on Hawaii. She can get in to a dreamlike state of wishful thinking at the most random of places like Safeway or in line to the bathroom at swimming, and suddenly say: "I wish I could be a paleontologist."
- Of course, you can sweetie, we tell her. You can be anything you want.
We want to give her the security and confidence to believe that anything is possible, and also let her know that we will support her regardless of her choices. We are not pushy parents. We do not pre-determ our children's future. Instead we think that they are responsible for their own lives, but we will be there, all the way, cheering them on and making sure they don't miss a single opportunity if it will help them go further. So maybe we are pushy? I call it 'forceful support', or 'optimistic encouragement without limits'.

So, this morning in the car on our way out, Kate falls in to one of her thinking modes again until I suddenly hear from the back:
- Mommy. Can anyone become what they want, or is it just some people?
- Everyone can be what they want. Why do you ask?
- Because, like, you wanted to be a writer, and you're not a writer.
I realize it is time to get down to serious business, and suddenly I feel like one of the teachers in Fame:
- Honey. We can all be what we want, but it doesn't just happen to us, we have to work really hard to get there, too. Mommy just haven't worked so hard on becoming a writer, but that's not to say that it won't happen one day.
I quickly move the subject away from myself and on to her by explaining that if she works hard in school and really sets her mind on something it will happen, but it is also important that she enjoys what she's doing, and that it makes her happy.

The rest of the journey we're both quiet. I'm not sure if I have convinced her, but I did my best.
I can't help but feeling that I have failed her. And myself. It was never my one and only ambition to be mother. I was going to be some many things, whilst having children at the same time.
I always knew that for as long as I am "just" a mother, the feeling of falling short will never leave me, but I made that choice, and only I can do something about it.
And staying at home was never going to be forever. Instead of letting the conversation bring me down, I make a promise to myself, and to Kate, right there in the car, to keep working harder at what I am doing, and to let this conversation be the start of something positive.
I owe this to both of us.

There can never be too many choices if we are to raise the next generation

45% of women in Sweden would like to be a "stay at home mom" according to the trendy Swedish parenting magazine Mama. Only 20% said No, while 34% would like to find a balance between staying at home more working fewer hours.

This is very interesting figures. Our Swedish sisters have come a long way compared to those in America, and other European countries, for that matter. Affordable child-care, flexible working hours, job-share schemes and long, paid parental leave divided between both parents mean that Swedish women comes as close to "having at all" as it possibly gets. Or do they?

The Swedish model has so many things that other countries can - and should - learn from. By subsidizing child care and encouraging shorter working days, the government is respecting and supporting young, hard-working families while they are raising their children. The government is also trying to not alienating women from the work force by allowing them to maintaining a career, which is virtually impossible in some other Western countries.

But more and more women are starting to complain. Studies show that not all fathers choose to take the parental leave that they are allowed by the government, and although it seems luxurious with a nearly 18 month long maternal leave - it is making women feel out of touch with their work, which puts them in a disadvantage as they have to compete for, and often loose out on, job promotions within their company.
As Sweden is relying on high taxes for free health care, care for the elderly and subsidized nurseries, it is necessary for both partners to work. There is very little leverage for families who want to structure their family in any other way. Some would even say that women has gained equality at the cost of individual choice.
I still argue very favorably for the Swedish model. I have yet to see one that would work better. But the figures in the study seem to be a sign that things are changing, and maybe not for the better. A "stay at home mother" shouldn't be the only choice we have. Women should have a number of different choices that should suite every individual family. But thinking that you have a choice, when, maybe, it is just a disguise for another type of "no choice", is maybe why so many Swedish women think that the grass is greener on the other side.
Believe me, it's not - we all have a long way to go yet, before we reach perfection.

2nd grade reality check

At the dinner table I ask Kate, as I always do, about her day at school and what she played with her friends at recess.
- We talked about Hollywood, she says. Lisa and Sara (her BFF's) talked about how they want to move there when they are 18, or 19 the latest, and I listened.
- Why do they want to move to Hollywood? I ask, not able to contain my bemusement.
- I don't know. I think they want to be rock stars, and become famous, and have lot's of money. They want to live in really big houses with a swimming pool and a pet room and have someone that will look after their pets for them.
- Uh huh.
- And they said that maybe I could move with them, but I just said: let's not count me in.
- You don't want to move to Hollywood, honey?
- No. It seems like a waste of money. And like something that won't come true.
- So what do you want to do instead?
- I want to live somewhere else. Somewhere interesting. Like Hawaii. And I want to be a paleontologist. And marry and have children.

Talk about reality check.

It is no secret to either of the mothers that the three girls are very different from each other, and that where Lisa and Sara are more "girlie girls" with their heads in their clouds, Kate is bookish and slightly geeky in an adorable way. While her friends spend hours in front of the mirror dressing up, Kate will be in too much of a hurry to actually play to care about whether the sweater is on the right way. And where they are giggly and have secrets and talk about the boys, my daughter has a dry, sharp sense of humor that would knock even the wittiest comedian flat, and she thinks that boys are a waste of time because they take up too much space. If asked what they would like to play it's Barbies versus Mastermind. To put it in simple terms: if Sara and Lisa are Hannah Montana, Kate would be Dora Explorer's no-fuss and much less annoying older sister. And as much as I would never want to alienate my daughter from her friends, or deliberately make her feel different from them, this is one that I want to quietly support for as long as I possibly can.

- I think your dream sounds ten times better than theirs, I say without hesitating. You know you can be anything you like, sweetheart.

And even though this goes for her friends too, I believe it so much more because it is my daughter I am talking to.

Things my husband and I argue about:

- What time is Kate's swimming lesson? he says.
- Same time as every Saturday.
- Which time is that then?

I refuse to answer. He takes her more often then I do, and yet, he still hasn't managed to make a mental note of 11.00. I know I'm being childish, but why always rely on me, the safe bet?
- So, come on then. When is it?
- Well, what time did you drop her off last week?
- I can't remember. Well, I could. But I figure it's just quicker to ask you, 'cos I know you know.
- So what? You can't remember a simple swimming lesson but you expect me to?
- Well, I have to remember important things at work.

That's it.
What started as some bickering quickly turns in to a full blown argument.