I’ve always hated the question, “So what do you want to be when you grow up?”.
The answers, “A parrot,” or “A human being,” were just never satisfactory. Neither were, “Rich,” or, “Happy“.
And every time I’d answer, “A wife and mom,” people would smile and say, “That’s nice, dear, but what kind of career do you want to have?”. As if, you know, being a wife a mommy isn’t, like, a real fucking job or something.
But really, I despised that question because I didn’t have an answer that could please everyone. I just didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up.
My mom stayed home with us until I went to college, so she was my example. When people asked what I wanted to do with my life and I said I wanted to be like my mom, it confused me when that wasn’t a good enough answer. I saw the endless hours, the early mornings, the constant cooking and cleaning, the chauffering us to school and all our other activities, and the lack of acknowledgment that society gave to her.
No one knows how much work being a stay at home mom is unless they do it themselves.
Stay at home moms don’t get sick days. Or vacation days. Our job is 24/7 365 days a year, rain or shine, uphill both ways through the teething, sleepless nights, potty training, bleeding nipples, postpartum guts-leaving-your-body-via-the-vajayjay-while-stitches-heal, and the bratty 3-year-old stage (seriously, the ‘terrible twos’ were a piece of cake in comparison).
Those dishes left all over the kitchen that magically appear clean and back in the cabinet? The filthy bathroom suddenly sparkling clean and smelling like citrus? The blocks and marble works conveniently stored back in their nice little buckets? The dinner and cookies ready to devour? The tests that were aced because the kids had someone to help them study?
Yeah, that was all mom. But *gasp* don’t ever acknowledge it, forcryingoutloud, because otherwise, one would have to admit that being a stay at home mom is an actual job.
Moms have the hardest career of all. There isn’t enough money to compensate the sacrifices we make. No employer could afford us. And that’s why we do it for free.
Growing up with a stay-at-home mom and seeing all the work she did, you can imagine why it was so hard for me to take “that’s not a real job” for an answer.
The inevitable question always reared its ugly head, though. From teachers, family members, friends, and the random smiling lady in the supermarket.
“So what do you want to be when you grow up?”
I tried a number of other answers. A dancer. A fashion designer. An artist. A marine biologist. A teacher. An electronic engineer, geneticist, doctor, journalistarchitectmusicianastronautwriterlawyer are you satisfied yet?
Despite my lack of interest in the field, I entered college as a molecular and cellular biology major. I might as well have been wearing a t-shirt that stated, “Iz goin to coledge cuz im smarrt!“. I wasn’t ready to start a 4-year university, and I still had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. Besides, you know, a wife a mommy.
It showed. My 4.0 from my senior year in high school plummeted as I bombed college calculus. I dropped it once, flunked it the following semester, and barely squeaked by with a D the following year. My science classes were a joke. There was a two-month period where I stopped going to biology because I couldn’t keep my eyes open in that damn class to save my life. Me, the insomniac. I couldn’t stay awake.
Two years of that shit and James finally asked me, “Why are you doing this?”
I had no answer. I stared at him dumbly and finally managed to mumble something about being a doctor when I grew up because everyone said I was too smart to do otherwise.
Finally, I switched majors and ended up with a bachelor’s degree in Journalism and German Studies… I think I actually have a minor in English, but I don’t remember if I ever made it official or not. But regardless, I had enough credits for it. My major GPA shot through the roof as soon as I dropped the bullshit math and science classes I was sleeping through.
But even though I managed to pick up a German Studies and a Journalism award through the university, I wasn’t on the right track. I ended up back in school the semester after graduation to complete my elementary teaching certification.
Did I mention that at the same time that all of this was happening, I was working full-time as a ballroom dance instructor, though? Yes, it’s true. I took lessons for a short time, then was offered a job. It paid well, I had great students, and I enjoyed what I was doing.
But I crashed and burned. Somewhere in the midst of all that, I got married, had a baby, had to quit working full-time, and finished my teaching certification. In that crazy but true order, nonetheless. After a bad stint with my first episode of postpartum depression, I accepted a job as a fourth grade teacher. And managed to get pregnant for the second time. I tried to take on the world, but I could barely get out of bed in the morning. All those years of being told no you can’t do that with your life made me rebel in the worst way possible. I became a crazed, manic goal-seeker without any true prize to reach for other than insanity.
Looking back, I still wonder how I survived. Maybe I really didn’t, and that’s why I ended up with such severe postpartum depression the second time. I think a part of me was dying trying to keep up with all of that.
Finally, I can admit that I was stupid, naive, and gullible. One of the greatest examples of how I fought to please everyone else and ignore my own needs.
And that all takes me to today. After barely escaping hospitalization for mental instability, I had to stop and re-evaluate what is really important to me. It’s been working. I am finally doing my “dream job”.
Can we call my career a Professional Opportunity-Seeker? Because I feel like that’s what I do. I have enough skills and degrees to pull off a number of bizarre but wonderful jobs, and I’m loving it.
Now I realize that the reason I couldn’t ever answer that stupid fucking question was because I didn’t know how to say I want to do a little bit of everything that interests me. People would have told me it was impossible to make a living that way, and it wasn’t something I could have handled hearing.
You know what, though? It can be done, and my current career is proof. Somehow, I’ve managed to be a wife and stay-at-home-mom. While I suck at housekeeping, I enjoy being a cookie-baker and kitchen-mess-maker. To satisfy my artistic and writing cravings, I own my own website design business (which uses that journalism degree I had deemed useless). I write a smart-ass blog. And to appeal to my childhood dream of being a dancer, I am a part-time professional dancer and instructor. Did I mention that in my *cough* free time that I am a DJ and Music Director for the swing dance club in town?
My quest for a career is over, and I guess my answer to that question would be I do a bit of everything that interests me, and I get paid to do it.
Cool, huh?
But really, now that I think of it, the better answer is this: I’m a wife and mommy. The toughest, most rewarding job ever.
And if anyone were to ever tell me that it’s not a real career, I’d smack the shit out of them. I know better now.
Current Mood:
Cool
Alarmed
Happy