Virgin Mary and Bobby Peterson

As mentioned in my previous post, I went out Bollywood dancing with some of my co-workers last weekend. It was a blast. We were out late and some of us drank too much.

Monday at work, one of my Bollywood dancing co-workers had to leave early because she had to go home and make an underwater sea creature costume for her daughter's school concert that night. It was four o'clock. The concert was at 6:30.

Welcome to American public schools, where parents are expected to make costumes and crafts, bake cookies, make potluck dishes, volunteer in the classroom and donate money.

I digress.

"Maybe if you weren't out partying all weekend you would have made your daughter's costume," my manager said.

"That's exactly what my husband said," she replied.

"Can't he make a costume?" I asked. "Why should it fall on you?"

They laughed, but I know this "moms do all of the work" crosses cultures. If it takes two people to make a child, why does one person end up doing a majority of the work?

I should have told my friend that in western culture, we have the Virgin Mary, mother of God, who made a baby all by herself. And she is worshipped. Are all mothers some form of the Virgin Mary, where in some capital sense they are expected to parent alone? What happens when a kid doesn't have a mother?

When I was a kid, moms would make fantastic and elaborate Halloween costumes. One year, I was Holly Hobbie and my mom spent days sewing a bonnet, an apron and bloomers. I loved Holly Hobbie and it was a really cool costume.

I remember Bobby Peterson, a kid in my elementary school. The same year I went as Holly Hobbie, he went as Dracula. He wore a white undershirt, plastic fang teeth and a scrappy black cape. It was a sad little costume, especially compared to Holly Hobbie. 

I later learned that Bobby didn't have a mom. She left her husband and three kids. Bobby was the youngest and he made his own Halloween costume.

My co-worker later sent our team pictures of her daughter dressed in a mermaid colored dress with a jellyfish hat. Her daughter looked delighted.

My friend's daughter was an adorable jellyfish, which is good. Was Bobby just as happy to be Dracula as I was Holly Hobbie? Did he care? What kind of costume would I have come up with when I was in third grade if I had to make it on my own? Where are the dads in all of this? Why does it matter that moms make costumes for kids? It is supposed to externally represent how well we parent?