I have read over your comments. You are all incredibly wise people. I worry about the state of the world, but I am comforted in knowing that it's full of good people, wise and strong, and compassionate.

Thank you, you guys. You are all special to me, and I am grateful for all you add to my life.

***

I was talking to Winter this morning, and he asked how I felt about my visit last night. Some distance helped. I was able to see that a lot of the emotions I was feeling and a lot of what was bothering me was not only a result of feeling bad that I couldn't help my friend with her son, but that I feel bad about the family's whole situation.

The relationship between the husband and wife isn't entirely alien to me -- I know such relationships exist where the couple snipes at one another and fights over whose fault it was that their last child was born, and that when no one is around they yell and throw blenders (yes, that would be plural), and yell at their kids, and ask their children which parent they like best, coaxing them along to say, "Mommy is the best," or "Daddy is the best". I mean, what a truly awful situation. And the family isn't alone, not in this world, and not on this hill.

Part of the hill used to be the rich part of town. Rich businessmen settled with their families several decades ago, and many of them are still up here, in lovely homes with huge gorgeous yards. But the hill was also settled with military housing, which are now rentals. One of the streets attracts a lot of families like my friends -- people without a lot of resources and with a lot of problems. Other streets are better, but in this one neighborhood, on this hill, there is a lot of economic and social disparity. The street where I live is middle class, and is full of nice, well-adjusted people who don't have to worry about what they'll eat for dinner next month, usually.

But this street where the family lives is a bad one. There's a lot of crime, and a lot of domestic disputes. I was at my friend's house once, just before she went to a neighbor's house to show her how to clean. She said the house is always a filthy wreck, and evidently after her visit nothing changed. Last summer she had another friend who had broken both of her feet when she stepped off her porch in a drunken stupor, and not one of those fun once-in-a-while ones. Couples fight on their front porches. Police cars show up at all hours of the night. And children show up at the bus stop with tire irons to beat up other children.

And again, I really don't like to go and visit. I like the family, but the fighting and picking at one another hurts. But this woman seems to crave a different sort of relationship than the others she has. She's intelligent, and wants to discuss books she's reading (she's planning on reading Holy Blood, Holy Grail next), or philosophical thoughts she has, or her ideas she has for a comic. And she also talks about her worries and her problems. And I don't mean to be prideful, but I don't know that she has a lot of other options for such conversation. And so occasionally I go down to visit.

***

It is true, as was said in the comments, that I can't save the world. Once upon a time, I was a medical anthropologist. It was my job, in my mind, to help people get the best health care they could, and to assist the medical professionals in delivering said care. I bridged the cultural and communication gaps. And sometimes a small difference was made. I couldn't change the world, but I could help one person. And some people just wanted someone to talk to and to listen to them, and treat them as if their concerns mattered. I worked with Hispanic migrant farm workers in rural Idaho, a usually voiceless and needy group of people.

And now, as was mentioned, the most important thing I can do is take care of my children. I quit my other life to have them, and to live a different life, so I could learn about being a "real" person. So many academics I knew were single, no children. Their biggest worries were dealing with freshmen and applying Foucaultian theory to nursing homes. (And paying off student loans.) Now, Foucault is important in the social sciences, as he is in other disciplines. He made a lot of important contributions, and has provided a lot of important tools, but in the end, the family who is living on next to nothing and is getting exposed to all sorts of pesticides while making next to nothing, doesn't care about Foucault. We need to apply the theory, but we also need to climb down out of the ivory tower and remember the grit of real life. So that's what I did -- I climbed down, and in the process, discovered first hand that a lot of what I had learned in school was meaningless and obsolete. But this is a discussion for another time.

So I can rear my children in the best way I know how. And I can hope that I rear responsible people, who contribute in the best way they can to their society. I can hope they're kind, loving, and thoughtful, and do the best they can in this world.

This morning, while eating his breakfast, Avadore said to me, "Mom, you make me really, really, really happy."

"You make me happy, too," I said.

"I know," he said.

So what more could I want?