Inspirations from cheese in a can. joey, kelly, danny, and charlie

The other day, when I made this post (the one in which an advice columnist describes what stay-at-home moms do, to a woman with no children), I addressed it to those who didn’t know what we do all day, and those who do know, for a smile.  There is another group of people that I did not think of, and should have.  That group is those who know exactly what we do all day, and if they had their druthers, they would, too.  To those mothers, the job description such as the one included in that article could very easily be seen as a list of complaints.  And if it were me, reading a list of complaints about something I wish I could be doing, but can’t, I wouldn’t care for it either.

The friends I mentioned that have sent me that article (that I was too lazy to link to in the post, sorry, Sara and Martine) had the sensitivity to mention in their posts how grateful they are to have their jobs and how much they enjoy them.  Me, I figured everybody knows by now that I just complain about everything, so nothing different here.  However.  This would have been a good time to follow their lead not only in blatantly copying their content, but also in proclaiming publicly that they love what they do.

So:  I love what I do.  I do it by choice.  I am frequently offered (generally when I complain too much) the opportunity to do something else if it would make me happier.  Nothing else would.  That said, some days (yesterday comes to mind), when the other grown-up who lives here gets in his car and drives away, leaving me in a pile of needy humanity and never-ending housework and chores, I cry.  Because some days, I would like to get in the car and drive away, too.  Since it doesn’t really work that, way, though, I will take my end of the deal and consider myself damn lucky.

I have one more disclaimer/retraction to address.  I hate the war between stay-at-home moms and working moms.  It is easy for both sides (and extremely easy for people who are neither) to make judgments about both kinds of mothers.  I want to say, for the record (if we can call my blog “the record”), that I want no part of this war, and I make no judgment about any family’s decisions about what is best for their particular situation.  When I was growing up, I failed to realize that one day I would have to decide between doing what my mother did for me and my sisters and having a career.  I was always told I could be whatever I wanted to be.  I believed that, and I did very well in school.  So mostly people (self included) were just waiting to see if, for me, that would be doctor or lawyer.  To the surprise of many (self included) I never could pick a course and stick to it.  I now think that in my indecision, I was making a choice.  I was setting it up to get what I wanted, in a way such that I never had to say:  “I want my primary job to be raising my children.”  (I don’t think many people wanted to hear that from me, and unfortunately what other people want influences what I do much more than I like.)  If I had had a successful career, I know it would have been very hard to give that up to do what I do now, for lots of reasons.  Giving up a random string of jobs was not hard at all.  I do not miss many of them much.

My point….I know I had one.  I admire mothers.  Those who work.  Those who stay at home.  I do not admire those who pit us against each other, and I want no part of it.  To participate in that conflict was not my intention in the post I made the other day.  And now that I have, I’m sure, done nothing like what I intended to when I named this post, I will resume my normal insomniac activities (I think TMZ will be my lullabye this time).  Thank you and goodnight.