Not So Donna Reed

BrooklynGirl wrote a post about being a SAHM that really hit the spot for me. And then my friend E. lent me this book called How She Really Does It. I want to talk about both.

So BrooklynGirl says she never really imagined herself as a SAHM. Me neither. I have 2 college degrees (both B.S. literally and figuratively, but still), and never really liked kids. And here I am. I don't feel like I'm doing all that great of a job with the Manling, and like she says, it seems like most of the highlights are just due to developmental milestones rather than what I have done. I love being at home with my son, and I am really grateful (to whom I wonder?) to be able to have this "luxury." I just kinda wonder why I'm not satisfied.

I didn't leave a fabulous career, I don't enjoy cooking or cleaning or other tasks involved in running a house, and I have no idea what to do to raise babies.

Maybe my dissatisfaction comes from the feeling that I am wasting my education. But honestly, I was doing that before I opted out of the paid workforce. I am very unhappy with my choices that up to pregnancy, I had not sought out any even entry-level jobs in my field. I so very much see myself doing work for either a smaller government or a non-profit agency in the planning field. I love everything I learned in the Land Use/Planning program, and although I don't want to be anything more than a basic user of G.I.S., it's a great tool to complement work in that field. And I worry that when I do go back to work, either through financial necessity or when the kiddo(s) is ready for school, that my marquee value will be zero and I will be unwanted.

I had worked for the last 5 years in a big box home improvement store, and was good at what I did. I was the go-to-gal, the one who had all the answers. It was easy, I could get away with murder and do my own thing. Although I wasn't doing anything in my field, I was good at what I did. Now I don't even have that sort of feeling. I am a miserable housekeeper.

I started feeling guilty that Mark has to work so hard at his big box retail job to support the three of us and then come home to an unkempt wife, cluttered house, and have to forage for his own food. So I've been trying to do more around the house. Attacking the clutter was pretty easy, and I'm slowly whipping the house into shape. And I try to get out of pajamas and look decent by the time he gets home, but feeling depressed doesn't help that out. And then I'm trying to cook more.

Before I get to the cooking adventures, let me finish up about that book I mentioned earlier. I bugged E. to let me borrow it because I thought that it would give me some idea about how to balance my home duties and job duties when I do go back to work. And I thought it might inspire me and tip the scales to me going back. Wrong on all sides. The example of the "She" who's "really doing it" that comes to mind: Vera F-ing Wang. Like she, or really any of the women profiled, is at all typical of my life experience or that of my friends. We have to work. I don;t consider myself working class, but more solidly middle class. The women in that book "do it" by having staff, and the kind of jobs that allow the most flexibility like AM news anchors or upscale bridal designers. Sure there were some attorneys and doctors, but still. These people have probably 6-figure incomes. What about us, the little people? I was thoroughly disenchanted and even more depressed after reading that book.

On a more positive note, I found a book I truly love: Rachael Ray 365: No Repeats--A Year of Deliciously Different Dinners (A 30-Minute Meal Cookbook). My cousin got me into watching her show and I was pretty impressed that she made practical meals that looked delicious and fancy from start to finish in the 30 minutes her show aired. And she didn't use frou-frou ingredients. I saw the book when I was out at my "friendly" Sam's Club (that's another post) and picked it up. Out of the 365 recipes, I think I marked over 150 as things I would possibly eat, which is an amazing amount for a cookbook for me.

I've made 3 so far: pretzel coated chicken, a stale bread tomato soup, and prosciutto, garlic and herb cheese chicken roll-ups. All were very very good. And I made them all with only a little bit of anxiety, and Mark's assistance. I call him the Big Cheese when he helps, which is a throwback to my old 7th grad Home Ec class days.

But I get pissed off at myself. I don't want to be a good housekeeper or to be a good cook. I don;t feel like those things are what I want to be good at. I'm reluctant in so many ways to be a SAHM because I don't like that stuff. I HATE HATE HATE doing dishes more than almost anything. (Ironing being the only home-related thing that comes to mind that I hate more.) I enjoy time with my little Manling, and wouldn't give that up for anything. So I don't grin, but I bear it.

I feel like an anacronism, a throwback to the Donna Reed era. I feel like staying home is a smack in the face to my feminism and feel dis-empowered. Yet at the same time I feel like I should be grateful, like I said, that I have the opportunity to stay at home. I only wish that I could feel like I'm not "just" staying at home, not "just" a mom, etc. I wish that doing this most important job of raising the youth of today was something that society thought was financially equitable, socially important, and most especially, something that would make me feel like I'm still an important part of the world. It's rough.