Oh, You’re Just A Stay-At-Home Mom.
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Recently, an online program challenged me to 24 hours of silence.
No electronics, no exercise, no reading, no bathing, no journaling, no interactions with others, and no sleeping through the entire 24 hours. Epic fail on my part. I think that I nodded off every 20 minutes or so. My husband walked in on me and later told me that I looked monumentally bored.
Then, when I went to pick up my daughter from school (no way around that one), an acquaintance walked over to my car to talk with me. She was just there, standing beside my car door and closed window, waiting on me. I felt like I had to roll down the window, smile and say Hello or risk being ostracized from the community.
However, I don’t want to recount my multiple cheats and the fact that I could not get around talking with the chiropractor’s office at 8:45 in the morning. I want to tell you what I found in those blessed 24 hours of semi-non-silence. I found a renewed commitment to my family and my life goal of nurturing and raising my children.
You see, there is no silence in a happy home filled with three children and five pets.
I could look at my schedule three months out from now, pick a day that wasn’t already reserved for some activity or appointment, schedule in with big red letters my vigil, and something would still pop up that would require only the attention and love that mom can give. Such is my life.
Over 20 years ago, I held my newborn daughter in my arms. I knew in that moment that I would not be leaving her at the daycare that I had so diligently lined up for when my maternity leave ended.
I did not want to miss out on a single moment of her beautiful life, and I wanted to be sure that I was the one raising her and meeting her needs every moment of every day. I gave my notice at work, even though I was the breadwinner in our family at that time, and set about figuring out a way to make it work.
I was as industrious at saving money, figuring out health insurance and cooking from scratch as I had been at analyzing the psyches of my former counseling clients.
I read books from the library on the subject (this was before the information explosion of the internet), traded recipes with other mothers, and joined a local La Leche group.
I was determined to survive (albeit not completely thriving, as our belts were pretty darn tight and eating out became a thing of the past) on my husband’s income alone. We were happy and had everything we truly needed.
Yet, I remember clearly that moment at an art opening when a woman asked me what I did, and the subsequent cool and disinterested, “Oh, you’re just a mom.”
Yes, I was a mom — relegated to the bin of all the moms who had come before us and somehow left us wanting — and it took me over a year to feel comfortable in my own skin again.
Not just with the whole motherhood thing and feeling confident in my ability to care so intently for another human being who was utterly dependent on me, but also with my new role and thus identity in the greater world.
With a hint of anger, I thought how true feminism wasn’t this bullshit of having to fit into and achieve in a man’s world, but being supported as a woman for whatever choices I felt necessary to make. Stay-at-home mom was just beginning to be accepted as a job title.
Fast forward to three daughters and a divorce later, I continued to make choices that allowed me to be at home with my children — the most important value in my life. I have taken part-time jobs for which I am overqualified, just to be able to pick them up from school and ask them how their day went.
I have accepted equal pay to that of a man who is just out of graduate school, even though I have three more years of experience pre-babies, because I wanted to be on the same schedule as my children and be home with them during their school breaks.
Sacrifices of time and career that have been well worth the smiles, laughter and tears that are shared on a daily basis.
I’m not slamming working mothers — I would not want to bring a fellow sister down for her choices in her life, much as I would like the same respect — but it is important to me to be there with them for the day-in and day-out life that makes up the fabric of their childhoods.
My life choices have been a direct reflection of this desire and purpose. I do not regret a single moment.
As they grow older — my eldest has already left for college — I have had inklings of life after children. It has always been my priority to fully be there for them, and to also show up as a whole person who is not looking at them to meet my needs or create my sole purpose in life.
I want them to be emotionally free to leave the nest and soar as the little eaglets I raised them to be. So, I am beginning to think about how I want to spend my time now that evening babysitters and birthday cupcakes for the entire class are becoming a thing of the past.
My desires for my life have been transformed by the time I’ve spent at home, living a slower-paced family life. An online course here, writing projects there, fill my time and harken to the joys my future may bear.
Which brings me full circle to the 24 hours of silence — an experiment in the peace and joy that my future self holds. In those hours, I realized that things are going to be pretty darn quiet in about six years — when my nest is empty. I will have more than my share of opportunities for silence. Why am I seeking it now?
There is still so much loud, messy, beautiful life with children to enjoy. I am going to make salads for volleyball pasta night as long as I possibly can, be grateful that they are there to interrupt my Yoga and writing, and enjoy every blessed, glorious and beautiful moment of it.
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Mara Koch has worn many hats throughout her life — counselor, mother, shamanka, roller derby queen, labyrinth builder, ever a student of life, and most recently grand creatrix. She lives in a small Colorado mountain town with her with her lover/partner-in-crime, four daughters, and various animal friends. Connect with her and join the journey at She Who Touches The Most Lives Wins!
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