If you'd rather stay at home with your daughter, you should seriously consider being a stay-at-home mother if it would make you happier. You shouldn't be trapped in a career you don't want to deal with if you have the means to stay at home, if that's your choice. Conveniently, being a feminist doesn't mean you HAVE to choose a career over family, it just means that you recognize that you have that choice.
Asked by
girlofgallifrey
Thanks! I am considering it seriously. This time when my kids are young is passing so quickly. I think you understood exactly what I was trying to say, no woman should feel less empowered because she has decided to be a SAHM over a career mom. We can be feminists AND choose to fulfill traditional female roles happily, the important point is to have that choice.
“Are you going to work today?” My daughter asks me this question each and every morning. And it hurts every time I say, “Yes.” On the the days I get to say, “No” her face lights up and she smiles and snuggles in close to me and I melt into a gob of motherly love.
I’m a pretty die-hard feminist. The only problem is lately I feel sort of wronged by feminism. At a play date this week I had a good talk with two other moms about our roles as mothers, wives, and professionals and truth be told I sometimes feel like the feminist movement sold me a bunch of malarkey. Do I want equality for women in the workplace, voting booth, and paychecks? YES! Do I want the same opportunities and rights to education and jobs as men? YES! But should the desire to be equal come at the cost of family? And do we want men and women to be truly equal anyway? I have to answer a resounding NO! Let’s face it, each gender has its strengths and weaknesses and we need both on this planet to survive.
I love my job, but I love my family more. I have set things up so that I work three days a week and my husband and I switch off days with the kids. At work we are faced with a little bit of crossroads, my father is ready to retire and he would like to pass on the family business to me. We just survived a 6 week stint of his absence while he walked 500 miles across northern Spain. At first I wanted to tear my hair out, but things finally settled down and I respect his role in the company even more. I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed the challenges in the last months, but every time I get an email from my husband with a picture of what he and the kids are doing while I’m sitting behind a computer, I yearn for something else. I would love to be at home with the kids full time. I would love to have another child even, but when I take a long look at our life, finances, family obligations, and work commitments, I back away from the idea. And that’s when I question my feminist beliefs.
If you had told me years ago that I would want to stay home with the kids I would have told you to think again, “No way!” Now I love being around those crazies. And when I see so many people leave the amazing role of mothering up to nannies and daycare I have to ask is this where feminism got us? I realize that each family has different needs, personalities, and financial situations and certainly we all can’t have a stay at home parent. But why has the pendulum swung so far in the other direction? Why have we as women been made to believe that the job of raising beautiful human beings is not desirable? Designing buildings is respectable but building the young minds and hearts of my children is not? Then I start wondering about my own personal decisions in life. I just saw What to Expect When You’re Expecting and Chris Rock had a very poignant line. He said, ”Before I had kids I used to think I was happy, but now I KNOW I’m happy. Exhausted but happy.” I have never been happier than when I stepped into the role of mom.
A friend has told me I wouldn’t like being a stay at home mom. Maybe she’s right, maybe my part-time status has allowed me to have the best of both worlds. But I am thankful to have the opportunity to be with my kids as often as I am. And I am thankful for an unplanned side effect of feminism: hands on parenting from fathers. My kids have the experience of being at home with Daddy three days a week. He is an amazing dad, full of love, compassion, and patience. He happily goes on princess adventures with my daughter every day and diligently sits down with our son to do kindergarten workbooks. He offers our children a different perspective on life and I think it’s wonderful for our kids to be exposed to two different parenting styles.
So for now I’ll keep on questioning, keep on baking, keep on designing, keep on loving my little monkeys, and maybe I’ll have some better answers for my daughter when she grows up.
May 19 has always meant one thing to me, mom’s birthday.
64 years ago Linda Lloyd Davis was born in Missouri, the youngest daughter to my grandparents Alonzo & Priscilla, sister to Dianne and Nancy. She spent 63 wonderful years making people smile. Today marks the first birthday since her passing from dementia last December and I thought I would celebrate her amazing life in pictures.
Enjoy!
My grandparents Alonzo & Priscilla
A classic Davis family pic, my mom is in the overalls.
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On this Mother’s Day I wanted to tell you all about a lovely little girl that sometimes drives me bananas, my daughter Clara. Clara is a jewel, just shy of 3 years old, a spitfire with a mind of her own, yet very attached to me.
Over the years, I’ve noticed that kids go through dressing phases, Alonzo went through a torturous “no jacket phase” one winter, and Clara has been through quite a few in past couple of months. There was the “no dress phase”, quickly followed up by the “dresses only phase”, then she switched to only wearing one particular T-shirt every day. She wore this poor Ariel T-shirt for an entire week before it pretty much got up and walked itself to the washing machine!
But her latest phase is the one that is making me batty: she wants to look exactly like Mama. Typically the dressing phase lasts a few days but this one has been dragging on for a solid two weeks. The picture above was taken before my husband and I went out for our anniversary. The kids went to a friend’s house and Clara was decked out!
Looking at the picture above my heart melts, but to be perfectly honest this dressing thing has me turning into a mad woman. You see I just don’t have that many clothes, and to find things that actually match a clothing item that Clara has and hope that it is appropriate for the day’s activities is like finding a needle in a haystack, or in my house a matching sock in five bags of clean laundry. It’s next to impossible! And it adds a good ten minutes of extra running around in the morning.
Now I’m sure you’re thinking why don’t you just tell her no? Trust me, I’ve tried. But putting my foot down on this one involves a lot of yelling and tantrums from both of us! I stand my ground on important things but when it comes to something that is not dangerous, rude, or destructive, I’m the first one to admit I often placate the kids. After all with this dressing phase Clara is clearly expressing some need to be like her mother, or to be close to me when we are together, why should I ruin her day by telling her she can’t? Of course that hasn’t stopped me from yelling a few times in desperation,”CLARA STOP! I just don’t have anything that matches you!” Then I look over at her sweet face all puckered up, eyes clenched, the tears about to pour out, and I cave. I find whatever shirt or pants I can that slightly resembles what she has on and call it a day.
Needless to say, I’ve been a regular fashion plate lately, pants that don’t fit me anymore, T-shirts I haven’t worn in years that happen to be the right color, cracked shoes that should have been retired long ago…..And while I know it’s crazy to placate my daughter during this phase, I do feel right about seeing her through this need right now. That’s what mothers do. This one anyway.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Last night my husband and I celebrated our 8 year anniversary. Our friend videotaped the reception but put his tapes away for years. Recently he was visiting his mother, found the tapes, and sent them to us. It was a wonderful surprise since I wasn’t even aware he had taped much of the evening.
But there we were on screen, looking so young and giddy. As I watched our guests mingle and dance I thought about all that has happened since that night. 4 deaths, many marriages, a few break-ups and divorces, and loads of kids. We’ve lost touch with a few folks who were there that night and made new friends who would have been there if we’d known them then, but remarkably so many of the people I saw laughing and enjoying themselves onscreen are still in our lives today. Seeing my mother was hard, there was a vibrance in her demeanor that gradually left her as she battled dementia, but there she was in my living room, once again beautiful and radiant. And my grandmother was not yet the “witch” she would self-proclaim herself to be several years later, she was still a petite Spanish firecracker.
But most of all I see my husband and how far we have come since that night. Before we got married I completely disregarded the impact marriage makes on a relationship. JR and I lived together for almost 6 years before making it legal and I didn’t think getting hitched would make much of a difference. But it does. Marriage means you can’t just walk away from a fight, you can’t think only about yourself and your plans and needs, you can’t make decisions without consulting someone else first. Our well-coiffed movie star officiant told us as much that day.
Marriage is a true partnership. I’ve learned to compromise, to step back and see things from a different perspective, to love someone unconditionally, to grind your teeth sometimes and smile when you are frustrated, to hold someone tight when you are sad and feel their caring arms around you, to raise amazing human beings together and marvel at their every move, to look forward to the future ahead with your best friend beside you. It’s not easy but it is satisfying. Building a life and family with someone is a special and beautiful experience and something I feel very proud of.
I love you, JR.
I’m sure my coworkers might disagree that I work too much because I’m only in the office three days a week. You see, I work with my Dad at his architectural firm and have stipulated to him that three days is tops because I want to spend precious time with my kids when they are young. My husband and I made a decision when our son was a baby to make sure the child care in our house was only done by one of us. We actually had a wonderful woman who watched Alonzo for awhile when I first returned to work but when we took a look at the situation it just didn’t make sense for us to pay someone to do something we wanted to do. So we bit the bullet, went part-time so we could switch off days with the kids, and haven’t looked back.
It has worked out really well but lately my job has gotten crazy. It might have something to do with the fact that my father went on a 6 week pilgrimage across northern Spain. It’s just Murphy’s Law that the minute he leaves town everyone starts calling with new projects. So while he’s sending poetic daily descriptions of his marvelous trek, a few of us at the office have been working late for the first time in years. Sitting at my desk in a quiet office after hours takes me back to years of overtime hours as a fresh out of school architect in New York. I would follow up those late nights by meeting friends for a drink and a 10PM dinner. In New York that’s a perfectly reasonable time to dine! But now the long days mean time away from my kiddos, getting home just in time for a late dinner, bath, and bed. It means missing out on the lovely moments above, when children are free to just “be” and figure out the world. When no voice in your head says a pot is not a chair, and pizza should be eaten at a table.
There is an ongoing debate in the world between stay at home parents and working parents. I think there is no right or wrong choice, each family must make their own decision about what works best for their household. I’ve been trying something in between and have been pretty confident in that choice. Working a lot has reminded me that I really cherish hours spent with my kids and seeing the world through their eyes. I hope things slow down soon.
Kids + Eating = Frustration
Isn’t that how most parents feel? I do on a daily basis. Whether the issue is getting the kids to come to the table without ten minutes of prodding, wishing they could concentrate for five seconds in order to actually put food in their mouth, or arguing with them that sweets can only be eaten in small amounts it’s just a never ending headache. Period.
But I persevere. Since sending my kids to cooperative preschool and because I live in California where healthy alternatives are EVERYWHERE, I have been steadily ramping up the good eating in our house. I really didn’t make a conscious choice to do it but over time the things my fellow parents are telling me about food and diet, mixed with access to healthy ingredients at Trader Joe’s, Fresh and Easy, and of course my CSA, set the stage for a slow transformation to a much healthier menu in our house. When you are surrounded by vegans, vegetarians, gluten-free, dairy-free, soy free, care free folks you can’t help it!
Now my son is a picky eater and small in stature, and I might have started serving more healthy options earlier if I hadn’t succumbed to the voice in my head that always shouted “Just get him to eat something!” So of course he now hooked on chips and nuggets and hot dogs and mom’s totally delicious but empty calorie full coffee cake on Sunday mornings…..I still serve all of those things in our house, but what I noticed is that by steadily serving some healthy options at meals he is now eating a few of them.
We have a rule in our house, you have to try one bite. You don’t have to eat the whole thing but you at least have to taste it. Cod didn’t go over so well with Alonzo but salmon patties did surprisingly well. Fried chicken is still a favorite but so is couscous, sweet potato fries, and almond milk. Yeah! And my daughter, well I started her a lot earlier on healthy choices. Last night at dinner she had a chicken taco and some apples on her plate, then looks around the table and yells, “Please pass the cucumbers! I love cucumbers!” She’s two.
I also learned from my friend Charity, who writes the amazing blog Foodlets that it’s okay to be sneaky. Throw a little wheat germ in that coffee cake, some oatmeal and shredded carrots in the meatballs, some flaked coconut in the pancakes. The kids will never notice the difference and you’ll have given them a healthy little boost.
So the moral of the story is keep trying to feed your kids healthy and it can happen. Keep offering up those veggies and don’t be afraid to hide a few healthy things in the meal. Your kids may surprise you by gobbling it up and asking for more!
I just can’t help myself, when that clock turns 9 a transformation happens around our house, mommy becomes a grouch, a complete and utter cranky pants. We aim to have the kids in bed by 9 PM at night but spring break really screwed everything up. A trip to Legoland, playdates, and staying up late to watch movies wreaked havoc on our nighttime routine. Trust me when I say routine I mean that very loosely. We do have a very regular routine of bath, stories, snack, and bedtime but when it happens is up for grabs. 9 PM is the target time but in the last week it has been pushed farther back. That is why the cranky monster has been making a few too many appearances.
So what is it that causes a mommy who loves her children to turn into a frowning, snippy ogre who says “STOP THAT!” to everything once the hands of the clock reach 9? Sheer exhaustion. I admit I like to get up very early to get some “me time” in every day so by 8 or 9 at night I am wiped out. If my kids are wired and beaming we just hit a wall, they are on one side, energy filled and excited, and I’m on the other, droopy eyed and quiet. So last night we were about to hit this wall when I took a page out of The Art of Roughhousing and decided to really rile the kids up for a good 10 minutes before hitting the pillow.
We played Silly Soda, a game we made up using a plush soda can from Clara’s play kitchen. I said to the kids, “Whatever you do, DO NOT drink the silly soda!” Of course telling a child not to do something makes it that much more exciting….so they snatched it out of my hands and pretended to drink it. What happens after drinking Silly Soda? You get really silly! This should include lots of tickling, arms flailing, and strange noises (Clara prefers a quack). The only way to combat the effects of Silly Soda is a good tickling of the feet. The kids loved it! And after 10 minutes I hid the soda for the next day and we successfully settled down for stories and a snack. I was still exhausted but smiling, I guess Silly Soda has a magic effect even on grouches.
I miss my mom so much. There are so many things you don’t even realize you miss about someone until they are gone. It has taken me months to realize this but one of the things I miss most about my mother is her optimism. She always saw the good in people, even when others felt it was undeserved. She always looked at the positive side of any issue, or could find a positive twist on an impossible situation, even when the rest of us would wring our hands, ready to give up. She always listened to you when you were upset, then she would smile, give you a hug, and tell you everything would be okay. The issue might be unresolved but knowing she was there to support you was enough to make it worth going on. And even when dementia took over her whole being she still knew how to give those wonderful hugs. I really miss them.
Lately I’ve been pretty bogged down by negativity. I’ve been doing a lot of complaining and not a lot of praising. I’ve been looking at situations with skepticism instead of trust. I’ve been finding fault with people instead of believing in them. Yes, people do wrong, look for an advantage, and pass off things on others, but people can also give back, make you laugh, show you a new way to look at things, and generally be good if given the chance. I know that’s how my mom saw the world.
So I think it’s time I stepped off the pessimism car on the pity train and put on a pair of rose colored glasses. Anyone know where I can find them?
