Musings of a Wench

On working mothers

Dooce asked some really interesting questions today. I've been skimming through the +1200 answers she's received and I posted my own. But it really got me thinking and I guess I'll address it at length here. She asked, "What I want to know in comments is what did your mother do? Did your mother stay at home? Did she work? And how did you feel about what she did? If you could change anything about what she did what would that be? Also, what do you hope your daughters grow up to do?"

I grew up with a mix of just about all possibilities. My parents were both educated professionals, but both ending up staying at home at various times, and for various reasons.

Before I was born, my mother was a petroleum geologist, working in the oil industry for what at the time was a ridiculous amount of money. My mother, I just recently learned, was planning on being a Stay At Home Mother, until I was about 2 and she realized she couldn't stand it any longer. She started teaching petroleum geology, making much less than she would have as a geologist but with the advantages of summers off and nicer working hours. My father, an accountant, started to work from home shortly after, so he could be with me some of the time, and I was also in a daycare I loved part time. However, his choice was only partially about me. It was also the time of the rather evil National Energy Plan, a fun little Liberal creation which did it's best to destroy the oil industry and the reason why 25 years later this province still won't vote a Liberal in federally. (Thousands of people lost their jobs, the suicide rate was disgusting, it crippled the O&G economy, and so on.) My father, on the other hand, quit his job right before it all went south, and then couldn't get a downtown job. So he became self-employed for a variety of reasons.

When my sister was born a few years later, my mother took a year of work and then went back to teaching. My parents hired a nanny for her - a lovely lady with a daughter 3 months younger than my sister, so my sister had a nanny and a playmate and her father working in the basement all at the same time. The nanny was a great person and a great 'stay at home parent' for my sister. My parents are still friends with her, 15 years after she stopped working for them. They still go camping every year. I know there is a lot of stigma about a nanny, but Cathy was great. She was a wonderful mother and Courtney and Cassie, her daughter, looked and acted like sisters. For them, at that time, it was probably the best of all worlds. Cathy got to stay home with her daughter, my sister got to spend her days with a best friends and a woman who did all sorts of things with them, and only had to focus on the fun. Cathy didn't do laundry or clean or cook for our family. She cooked lunch for the girls and herself and maybe my father, but that was it.

When I was in grade 2, I ended up in an after school program across from my school, a two minute drive from my mom's job, and a ten minute drive from my father. That only lasted a year - I'd asked to go and then changed my mind. I wanted to do it because it looked like so much fun, but meh. I'm glad I didn't have to stay there. It was in no way awful, but it just wasn't what I wanted.

A few years after than, my mother got the really early retirement package, and she started working from home as well. As an accountant. My father now sells and fixes computers. Random, I know. Then they were both home all the time, and it was pretty great. They were both busy and had their own lives, but where there whenever we needed them. I was sick a lot as a kid, and there was never a problem with them having to pick me up from school, or all the rounds of (clueless) specialists. They were there when we got home from school, and for all the band concerts and swim meets and other such horrors. (I think there should be a special medal of honour for those who have to sit through a grade 7 band recital.)

My parents made a conscious choice to pick us over the really high paying jobs they had trained for. Looking back, I guess we weren't very well off, but I never really noticed it. There was food and girl guides and swimming and the occasional camping vacation, but much more importunately, my parents were always there. I didn't even carry a key, because I knew where they'd be - working at home. There if I needed them.

It's hard to make a choice like that, but I am so grateful my parents did. I am also beyond grateful that my mother went back to work. She is a wonderful woman, but she needs to work - it is simply a part of who she is. I'm glad she was home, but I'd also glad I was part of her life, not all of it.

I really don't think I would have changed anything. I got the best of all worlds: parents who liked their jobs, and were home with their kids. Sure, we were never rich, but I had parents who picked me up from school when I was sick without a problem, who made every single band concert and skating recital ever, and where an overwhelming part of my life. Now that I'm older and out of the house, I think of them as both parents and friends.

I want my future daughters (and myself) to be able to make a choice. It doesn't matter what they choice is, as long as they think about it and make a conscious decision. And, of course, I want them to be happy.

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Other thoughts:

Both of my grandmothers worked. Grandma K, the German immigrant, worked in a factory. There was no option but to work. They grew most f their own produce, hunted for meat and still both had to work. I have no idea what she would have chosen to do. I think that if you're an immigrant who survived the war, was shot at, had your husband survive 3 years in a Siberian POW camp and make it home alive, moved to a new country and started over, you probably wouldn't ever be a place to make the kind of choices I take for granted.

Grandma W was very different. She was the youngest of nine kids, and her father owned a grocery store. Both her parents worked in the store, from what I know. My grandfather was a minister and later a English teacher, and when she was in towns where there were jobs, she worked. Especially after they moved to Calgary in the late 60s and he was no longer a full time minister and his job no longer came with a manse to live in. She worked secretarial, and she was damn good at it. Learned a lot, too. She worked in an investment firm for a long time, and did magic with her own money. She really was about 50 years too early though. She was the type who if she was alive and in her forties now that would be running companies. From what my mother says, working was a fundamental part of life for my grandmother. Even after they both retired, she was always busy. She was an usher at plays, was heavily involved in the church, the Kirby Center and a dozen other thing.

And then there's John's mother, but I just wrote a really nasty paragraph on her choices and deleted it. It does no one any good. Let me just say this: if I was to become a stay at home mommy, I fucking well will keep outside interests. It's awful to see a woman turning 50 whose entire life has been based on her kids find herself with nothing but a part time job at Safeways. I will never be that woman, no matter what choices I make. Work, don't work, whatever. Just be your own person, with your own personality!

posted by Morgan @ 11:59 a.m.