I hate the expression “homemaker”.
Imagine this somewhat common occurrence:
It is a Saturday night. I am at a party or other “adults only” event. I am excited to be able to complete a sentence without being interrupted by a request or a complaint from one of my children. I am thrilled to have an excuse to wear my “big girl clothes” (translation – clothing which actually needs to be hung on a hanger and has never even seen the clearance end-caps at Target or the inside of a yoga studio).
I meet someone new and with well-meaning intentions, new person asks, “Do you work outside the home?”
First, I wince at the term. Then, I love to answer with a very UN-politically correct,
“Oh, no. I don’t work. I used to work but now I am just a mom.”
That of course is always answered with a,
“Oh, yes you do, you have the hardest job in the world… Blah blah blah.”
This is typically followed by an approximate 5 – 10 minute sermon on how important the role of a stay at home mom is for society. Currently, the conversation will most likely include a reference to Michelle Obama’s mama, Marian Robinson, who is filling in for First Lady-O as a full time mom…
The words are always very flattering and of course TRUE. However, the part that stings the most is this. The words are usually being spoken by a very successful woman who – oh yeah, just happens to be a mother who works OUTSIDE THE HOME!
Of course, this person means well. I also acknowledge the importance of being home for your kids – if you can afford the luxury. I just hate how the term sounds so condescending. Even worse than the expression “working inside the home” is the ridiculous term “homemaker”.
In fact, in addition to the obvious reasons we all dread April 15, I have one more reason to dislike the date. I cringe when I have to sign my name on the meticulously prepared 1040 form.
I detest having to sign my name next to the words:
OCCUPATION – Homemaker
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind the actual job. In fact most of the time, I do love my job (although I don’t consider it a job). I have an aversion to the IRS assigned title - not the life.
I love my life. I know how lucky I am. I acknowledge that a very fortuitous combination of life choices, fate and pure old fashioned luck have brought me to this point. I am very thankful to my husband for being able to provide for our family so that I am free to be at the ‘beck and call’ of my family.
Seriously, I assure you there really is no sarcasm intended in the previous statement. Really, I mean it.
Most moms I know feel the same way. When any of us are having a bit of a frustrating day, we quickly remind each other to take a step back and realize how lucky we are just to have healthy kids – even if they do drive us crazy on a somewhat regular basis.
If the biggest frustrations in your day include a couple of temper tantrums, a forgotten school lunch and discovering Publix is completely sold out of your favorite flavor of Yoplait Thick & Creamy yogurt, you know you are doing pretty well.
Like all my “stay at home” girlfriends, I absolutely know how fortunate I am to be able to be at home for my kids.
It is purely the terminology of my job that annoys me.
Truth be told, the actual term “stay at home” mom is false and misleading. Moms usually do not stay at home at all. A typical “stay at home” mom is out the door for school carpool very early. Then, if she is lucky, she rushes home with barely enough time to shower, make a few beds and do the breakfast dishes before it is time to do the afternoon carpool shuffle.
The only time I have every seen a mom truly “stay at home” is during the initial 8 weeks of an infant’s life. Even so, that time frame only applies to a first child. When you have your second baby and already have an older child at home, it is impossible to keep the new baby (or yourself) in the house for the full 8 weeks without someone going bonkers.
Therefore when baby #2 arrives, you decide the “stay at home in my little cocoon far away from germs, diseases and strangers who want to put their hands in my baby’s face” time can easily be reduced to 4 weeks. If I remember correctly (because thankfully, it has been quite a while since I was on baby-house arrest) during those first four weeks, you don’t count trips to Publix or Target as an outing since you don’t let anyone near the baby when you are pushing the cart through the aisles of the store. AND, if you stop for lunch with a girlfriend on the way to the store, of course, that falls under the “Publix/Target umbrella” therefore that outing does not count as “leaving the house” either.
Consequently, by the time you deliver your third baby, all bets are off. You ask your husband to stop at Target on the way home from the hospital in order to buy a gift for a birthday party your older child has later that same afternoon. You absolutely take the new baby to the birthday party. Your friends all want to see how much hair he was born with. You feel okay about having a 2-day old baby at a 5-year old birthday party because you make sure to keep the anti-bacterial wipes in the pocket of the Baby Bjorn as you play Skee-Ball with your older child . You don’t even miss a beat if the baby’s pacifier drops on the floor of Chuck E. Cheese. You take a quick glance around, make sure no one is looking, lick it off and pop it right back in that baby’s mouth.
So you see, it is incorrect to use the term “stay at home” mom because moms are rarely “at home”.
We are in our cars.
We spend more time behind the wheel than those cute UPS men (confession: I don’t have a cute UPS man but I wish I did). We are driving to school, soccer practice, guitar lessons, birthday parties, play-dates and religious school. If we are not driving to or from those places, we are driving to or from Target, Publix, Staples or Michael’s to purchase items needed for school, soccer practice, birthday parties… you get the idea.
In addition to the regularly scheduled “family maintenance” errands, about once a month we get a new assignment and find ourselves on a teacher designated scavenger hunt. My children have wonderful highly educated loving teachers. However, I do believe these same wonderful teachers have secret monthly meetings to come up with the obscure items they send us all over town searching for. I can see Mrs. Matheson laughing hysterically as she tells the other teachers,
“Once I realized Target got rid of all their Christmas items to make room for Valentine’s Day, I told the kids they needed candy cane shaped containers for their book reports. That should keep those moms busy this week.”…
I am confident we could power a small country for an entire year on the amount of gas wasted by moms driving all over town looking for bright purple duo tangs with pockets for back-to-school, giant Easter Eggs for art projects, or authentic Chinese clothing for the “Taste of a Nation” fair.
As always, I did digress.
Back to moms and our incorrect titles.
Really, I don’t need a title but if you insist on one, can we find something better than homemaker?
Homemaker implies I am sitting at home (which we have already established is rare) with an apron on and a pink ribbon in my hair (redheads do not wear pink) waiting for my husband to pull in the driveway so I can greet him with an apple pie in my arms (my husband hates cinnamon so that will never happen) and a freshly bathed smiling child on each side (too many reasons why that is ridiculous).
Here is the thing.
When I meet a new person outside of school or the playground and that person happens to be a professional man or woman, I would love to be able to describe my life instead of being defined by a title. However, I think it may be a little much to say,
“ Nice to meet you… No, I do not work now that I have kids. Actually, I am sort of what you would call a ‘gatherer’. A good portion of my day is spent ‘gathering’ items for the rest of the day. On a good day, I even get some time to devote to my own health whether it be physical health (a trip to the gym or yoga), mental health (chatting with a friend, doing a challenging Ken Ken puzzle, reading Jennifer Weiner’s latest novel or trying out a new recipe from Martha Stewart Radio) or spiritual health (enjoying Matt Lauer on the Today Show or randomly turning on the TV to discover Rob Lowe in the “blue paint scene” in St. Elmo’s Fire).
In the midst of my own personal caretaking, I also make sure to prepare my house and my mind for the balance of the day, which is devoted to the care of my children – and husband.”
Yes, a little long. Therefore, since that explanation is too long and I am annoyed with the current titles used to describe my current position, I suggest all moms create her own personal mission statement.
Here is my current mission statement:
“ To do my best to raise my children to be good and honest human beings who are able to contribute more than they take away – from this world and those around them.
And of course…
To be able to do this task without losing my temper with my children more than once a week and while allowing myself a maximum of one grown up temper tantrum per month.
To be able to successfully accomplish above mentioned goal without one day being pushed so far over the edge into a crazy mom outburst that eventually ends with the unfortunate scene of my BFF being interviewed by Matt Lauer in which she is forced to say the words, ‘She always seemed like a nice quiet woman. I never thought she would do something like this.’”
Because, let’s get this straight, if anyone is going to be close enough to Matt Lauer to see if he really does have six-pack abs, it is going to be ME!
Oops, sorry, I got carried away.
But seriously, if I run into you at a party and you are able to introduce me to Matt Lauer and he is so intrigued by me that he insists on a title, can you please omit the term “homemaker”?
Maybe you can tell him I am a “people maker”!
