Don’t tell my husband, but I spend much of my day with other men.
As I sip the day’s first mug of tea or chop vegetables for dinner, their familiar voices float around me, winding from the radio, room to room. Reassuring voices, deep and gentle.
Sometimes serious, sometimes playful, their rises and falls intertwine with mine – sometimes laughing, sometimes lecturing. Toddler yells and baby screams always interrupt right when my interest in a news story is peaked, but I never worry. Steve and Robert will tell me again next hour.
They’re my faithful partners in parenting, from hectic Monday rush through slow-news Friday.
. . .
I grew up on a steady diet of NPR. Even after nearly two decades of eating vegetarian, the trumpet fanfare for “All Things Considered” still reminds me of onions and ground beef sauteing on the stove as my mother stood and stirred while she listened.
I remember guffawing with my dad to “Car Talk,” rolling my eyes at “Prairie Home Companion,” even complaining on endless road trips that couldn’t we please listen to ANYTHING else besides the news because that’s for ADULTS and it’s boring. (My youngest brother declared I was officially old once I started slipping, “I heard this interesting piece on NPR…” into conversation.)
But what I have come to cherish as an adult is not NPR’s solid reporting or even-tempered commentary. It’s faithful familiarity. NPR sounds exactly the same to my ears now as it did when I was ten years old. So much changes, technology rises and falls, the latest new fads come and go, but news-on-the-radio is stubbornly old-fashioned. Just the way I like it.
That’s why I love Steve and Robert. They remind me that doing things the old-fashioned way – whether it’s diapers hanging on the line or vegetables from our backyard garden – is a good way to live. That I can draw more wisdom from my parents and grandparents than from the latest glossy magazine. That as life constantly changes, we need some things to stay the same.
The steady voices of Steve and Robert and Renee and Michele set the rhythm of my days in this season of life. They bring a perspective to my kid-dominated days that’s bigger than my kitchen table. They pull me outside my front door even when I’m at home. But if I’m honest, it’s not the news or the politics or the arts that I truly love. It’s the adult voices that accompany me through the days, the antidote to my work-at-home, mother-at-home loneliness.
That’s why I count them as partners in parenting, just like the friends we meet for playdates and faces we see at preschool drop-off. They’re part of the community, the wider world, the proverbial village, that’s helping me raise my kids. With a mindset that goes beyond mothering and a concern that goes beyond my children.
(If only Robert offered to change a few more diapers…)