Would the world really go nuclear every month?

So my beloved was driving me to work today and we were just randomly talking.
"What do you think the world would be like if women ran the show?" I asked.
"You mean apart from the world going nuclear every month?" he said.
He forgot to put on his P.C hat this morning. I glared at him.
"Hey, just for three days of the month," he modified. My glare did not lessen.
He tried to be serious. "Hon, just from my observations, in general, women don't seem to take the emotion out of things that well. If you're dealing with countries, that's not good." *
"But you're assuming that if women were in control there would be countries. I'm not sure there would," I countered. For that matter, I wasn't sure if we'd have gone the nuclear route either.
And I went back to thinking about what a women-created world would be like.
Would we have moved on from tribal? Would we have moved on from tribal but decided nations were a waste of time and we were all just people?
What would it really mean for women to be in charge... or even equal?
For women to be in charge childcare would have to be better for one.
I think there'd be a national service - or worldwide service if we had forgone nations, of childcare. At 18 every one would have to do a year of kiddy-duties. Possibly two, depending on demand.
Now, I did think perhaps teenager should not be trusted with toddlers, but if we trust 18 year olds with guns and tanks, surely we should be able to trust them with toddlers and pre-schoolers. After training of course. With supervision... Think how parenting skills would be improved! I could definitely have done with more training. And I did a heap of babysitting growing up.
Nurturers would be lauded. The people who heal and teach would be honoured.
Work hours and school hours would co-incide better. Sport would be thought frivolous (apart from ice-dancing, yoga and gymnastics and bushwalking) and clothes would be serious. (Or would they?)
There would be a holiday every year to celebrate the people who invented the pill.
Would people in the majority world be better off? Or would women be just as ego-centric as men?
I'm fairly sure there would be a lot less domestic violence and murders. Work loads throughout the world would be very differently distributed...
This is a subject of interest to me at present as the book I'm working on centers around a world that has been created by the imaginings of a family of women over 1400 years. If women imagined a world into being over hundreds of years - what would it look like? What would it's strengths be, it's weaknesses?
Would it really fall to pieces every month? (Well no, they can imagine anything they want. In this world - those little flowers you eat to get rid of PMT actually work.)
It's an interesting task. Imagining perfection is odd, but it's good to have an idea as to what to work towards in this world.
Ideas would be good. Lots of ideas.
A perfect, female-imagined world - what would it look like? 


*Please note, this 'just from my observations' is from a guy who would not accept 'fire is hot' unless there was quantitative, not qualitative, evidence based on thousands of randomised-blinded trials, and all confounding variables had been eliminated. 

It's Raining, it's Pouring...

It's raining, it's pouring... and we're off to the beach!
We're taking an abbreviated long weekend to head down to the shore for long lovely windswept walks, sand-castle building... and maybe a bit of blustery paddling.
While in my youth I never let a mid-winter go by without a midnight swim, I find old-age has blunted my hard-core tendencies. I may paddle. Paddling may go thigh high. I doubt further. And it won't be at midnight. Goodbye glory days, hello days of grubby kisses!
I miss the girl I was. But I love the kids I have.
The skies are heavy and laden, the car is even more laden. Soon we'll be driving through rain and night and then opening the door to smell the wild tang of sea and coast and settling into our little coastal home.
Soon.
Hello Sea, hello storm, hello open-fires, here we come! 

Enough!

"Frog went walking on a summer's day, ahum, ahum-" I sing.
We lie in the dark. A child is curled in either arm as I sing my little ones their goodnight songs.
"No! Baa!"my Sprocket demands. Unfortunately, my audience appear to think I'm taking requests.
"Baa Baa black sheep have you any wool, yes sir-" I switch songs obediently. It doesn't seem to be a big deal.
"Hum!" My Poppet requests shrilly.
"Frog went walking on a summers day, ahum-" I switch.
"Speckled!" My Sprocket orders.
"Five green and speckled frogs sitting on a speckled log eating the most -" I start again.
"Row!" my Poppet demands her song of the day.
"Row row row your boat-"I begin.
"Baa!" The Sprocket interrupts.
"Please," I interject, finally remembering I'm supposed to be teaching them manners.
"Please," my Sprocket repeats, humouring me.
"Baa, baa black sheep -" I sing.
"Hum!" my Poppet yells.
(Repeat X 3)
"Enough! No more frogs, no more hums and no more rowing. It's sleep time now and we're going to have sleepy songs!" I finally explode. I take a deep breath. Breathe out.
"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep now little darlings, Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my little darlings."
They protests and make desperate calls for amphibians and oared vehicles. I cruelly ignore them and stick to lullabyes. And soon, my little ones are sleeping.
I love a dictatorship.
It just works. 

Med Student Stuff

Yay! My beloved is on holiday! Three semesters down... only five to go, all going well, touch wood, cross fingers.  We're getting close to the half-way mark. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

This is for you my Sprocket and Poppet. If in future years you want to know about your daddy's med studies - this is a little time capsule for you. The song is a spoof of one that was big last year by a guy called Goyte (a Melbourne guy - mummy is proud of her compatriot) and it references many of the current buzzes - words with friends, facebook, etc which I know you will think are extremely ancient!

Mama Bear

There is snow on the mountains near us and the morning temperatures have dipped to a brisk zero. Walking up to the gym or driving to school in the morning the fog is such that sometimes I can't see 10 feet in front. Winter has come. Loud sing Cuckoo!
Cold toes and the chill leap into the shower are not-so-amazing factors about winter. But... hot chocolate, hearty stews and soups, the welcoming lights of our home wrapped in mist, fluffy socks and winter coats are all things that make me go awww.
And... playing at Mama Bear. Our culture doesn't really do co-sleeping in the main media. But... I do love having my little ones close on cold winter nights.
I love the conversations we have in the dark as we hold hands and discuss the day and what tomorrow might bring. I could wish I didn't have to sing Five Green Speckled Frogs quite so many dozen times, (although let me put this forward as proof that at one time my kids enjoyed my singing. I expect it won't last long!) but having my not-so-little-ones tucked close, safe and perfect and funny and mine is infinitely precious.
I like knowing that all around the world other mums and kids are curled together - it is only the rich that can afford separate bedrooms for kids and adults. Us 1% of people with multi-bedroom houses are not the norm. In yurts in Mongolia and huts in Africa, in high rises in Beijing mothers and children are sharing breath.
I like to imagine my line of maternal ancestors, stretching back into the caves, mama and kidlets all wrapped up in bison fur, listening to the owls hooting and the mammoths trumpeting by. "No, Othook! We do not poop in the cave! The pooping place is 200 metres from the river. If you remember not to Poop in the cave for ten nights then daddy will give you a sabre-tooth tiger tooth!"
Warm and snug in our den, cozily cuddled, I love playing at mama bear with my two little cubs.

*Waking up in the morning, stiff from having a little foot in the small of my back and one arm numb from being lain on, is not so pleasant, but that's another story.