The other
day I met an acquaintance that I had not met in a long time. Pleasantries
exchanged, she asked me where I was working these days. On being told that I am
mostly a stay at home mom who sometimes writes, sometimes draws and sometimes
bakes, she raised her pert nose in disdain (that’s how I interpret it, the poor
woman may have a runny nose and was probably avoiding an embarrassing drip),
and said, “Oh, so you don’t work, hmmm.”
The ‘hmmm’
did it. The red flag was raised, my nostrils flared and the prehistoric
barbaric warrior self that I hide in some corner of my brain, took over my
imagination. With a stupid smile on my face, I saw my reaction in a movie
playing behind my glazed vacant eyes. I saw a leopard skin clad warrior woman
give a war cry and swing a hard punch at the lady’s face. The pert nose was
punched in and an eye ball had to pop out to make place for this drippy pert
nose. A chirping ring of cute birds flew around her head (the pert nosed lady’s
head, not our warrior woman’s proud head), and the barbaric woman punched the
air and gave another yell of glee, words yet not being a part of her
vocabulary. Don’t forget, this is prehistory. She may have gone to her cave and
drawn some stick figures to indicate her vindication of the pert nosed lady,
but that would be later, for now, she was expressing her joy with ear splitting
yells and some sort of ungainly weird dance around the lady.
The movie
was brought to an abrupt end, the brakes were applied and my imagination was
reigned in. My brain has a very well designed braking system which is
constantly upgraded. You see, my run away sarcastic tongue and my strange
imagination do need to be curbed often, to avoid the looney bin, or worse, the
judicial system. The brakes stop the errant part of my inner self from
projecting for too long, and bring in the sane part of my brain to the fore. The
sane part of my brain now having taken over, the stupid smile was wiped out,
the glazed vacant look was replaced with an intent one, and I turned to the
offensive pert nosed lady.
The
civilised, good mannered, well brought up daughter, that is the pride of her
parents took over, and I gave a sweet smile to my tormentor. Before the
vigilant brakes were applied, my impish self whispered a few choice words of
advice to this model of decorum that I now was and with a Monalisaesque
enigmatic smile I said, “Well, dear, I must say your definition of ‘work’ needs
to be redefined, don’t you think?”. I turned and walked away before my barbaric
self broke the brakes and emerged out of my imagination, swinging her stone
club and passionately yelling something in her language which would today
translate to… “Don’t work, eh, is that what you think I
do, you snooty woman? Is that what I do all hours of the day and also some
hours of the night?” … and a few expletives that I dare not
put here.
I am sure
many of you have been in this situation where someone judges you for being a
stay at home mom. This isn’t a debate about working mom vs stay at home mom.
Hell, I’ve tried at being a working mom. Tried real hard too. My high expectations
of what I wanted to do in my career and my even higher expectations of what I
wanted to do as a mother unfortunately didn’t match, mostly because I am from Earth
and not Krypton, so I made this difficult decision of leaving my profession and
being a full time mom, and trying to find things to do from home; where I could
juggle my roles of a mom, with that of a baker, or a writer or a doodler or any
other role my creative fancy adopted. It is important to find different labels
for yourself, other than that of mom or wife. I was privileged that this decision
was available to me, as my poor husband agreed to take on the added financial
responsibility that I was casting aside to stay home with my girls.
I call this
decision difficult because a small part of me was the snooty pert nosed woman
who did not know the true worth of a stay at home mom. I had also once upon a
time thought that staying at home would qualify as ‘not working’. I had totally
forgotten the hard work my mom did to run the well oiled establishment that we called
home. Oh god, how did she do it???
This
transition was also difficult for me because all my life, even in the summer
breaks during college, I had ‘worked’ and earned and been financially
independent. I had even waddled my pregnant self to work till just a week
before I delivered my elder daughter. So not working at a paid job had not been
in my system. And since the job of a mom or a home maker has no salary attached
to it, it was a blow to my self esteem that I was no longer a contributor to
the bread and butter on the table. Thankfully the poor stooping husband of
mine, bent double carrying the financial burden, huffed and puffed and
reassured me that he was okay being the beast of burden as long as I took
charge of our daughters and home. For now, the loving hugs and appreciative
smacks at the dining table are payment enough. But I also know that I’ll have
to look for alternative employment once the girls leave the roost.
So yeah,
coming back to where we started, yes, I do indeed ‘work’, as do all you stay at
home moms. Next time someone looks down at you disdainfully for not ‘working’,
feel free to borrow my fantasy of the barbaric woman and slug them in the face
in your fantasy. And more importantly, have confidence that you are doing a
great job and there are people who appreciate the ‘work’ that you do. Also
remember that what is most important is that your self worth is so damn strong
that no raised pert nose is able to shake it. That would be possible if you
keep doing something for yourself, other than the duties of a mom, a wife or a
daughter in law. Keep a special ‘me’ time to work on a hobby or to do something
that makes you happy. You deserve that free time for all the ‘work’ that you do
on the job.
This was my
experience, I am sure there are many moms who have had similar and also many
moms who have had different experiences with this decision of quitting work to
be at home for your child. I would love to know your thoughts on this and if
you like what I’ve written, do follow my blog.
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