"Homemaker"
I know I talk about this a lot, but here I am, circling back to the topic that made me start this blog, because it seems to come up a lot and I seem to have to do a lot of explaining, not only to others, but to myself (a lot of "a lots" - my apologies). My husband and I recently updated our investments, and my status changed from "psychologist" to "homemaker". As much as I want to embrace this new profession, seeing the word "homemaker" is just plain disturbing to me. I feel like it means I must be weaving baskets, spinning yarn, and milking cows. Although, to be honest, all of those things sort of sound fun now that I write them :) Anyway, I would like to start a movement to rid the world and all official forms of the term "homemaker". Let's change it to something more distinguished, something more realistic, something dignified, like: "Professional butt wiper", "Booger picker", "Block stacker" "Toy Picker Upper", "Human napkin", or "Dish washer extraordinaire". Ok, so maybe I don't have anything better in mind, but anything would be better than "homemaker". I would be open to any ideas that my fellow mommy friends may have. Related to this topic, I was bringing some of my bread orders to some previous co-workers at my former place of employment, and Hayes was riding in the back seat. Driving the same drive that I took for years made me reminisce about being a working woman. I really did love it. I started thinking about feeling that sense of worth and accomplishment, and how much I miss it. I was dreading seeing my ex-boss a bit, considering when I left I wrote a letter to the superintendents describing in detail my reasons for leaving, most of them having to do with him, but more than that dread, it was a good drive full of a sense of being a strong, powerful woman. I started thinking about what it would take to go back, and I also started feeling guilty for staying home, wondering what all of my former co-workers thought of me for staying home for so long now. Feeling very much less than. And then, I pulled up to the front door, turned around, and saw my son smiling at me with a huge grin, and for the first time he appropriately said my name: "Hi Mama". Up until now I have also been DaDa - When asked where Mama is, he points, but he never has said it himself. Suffice it to say, all of those less than and "superiority" feelings melted away with that smile and those two words. To help some of you who are confused when I say I feel God in the small things, this is a perfect example. I give myself a whole lot of grief and sometimes feel that because I am the dreaded "homemaker" I have given up on being a strong woman, but that woman hasn't gone away. She's still here, only now, she runs after her toddler, instead of running meetings, and writes the alphabet instead of reports. I do look forward to getting back in the work place, but I, again, am finding I'm exactly where I am supposed to be.
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