Saturday, February 14, 2015
Happy Valentine's Day
I was hoping to bake cookies today and finish up the mudroom touches so that I can FINALLY reveal the changes here (not exactly earth shattering, I know). But the sky is a dull gray, not great for snapping pictures. And I was responsible for a big event at my school last night. It went off without a hitch, thankfully, that is except for my back. Moving tables and chairs and being at work from 7:00 AM until 9:45 PM was not what the doctor ordered!
Instead, I'm spending this Valentine's morning with my hot lover, a heating pad.
The other day while on hall duty, I saw a post on Facebook titled "Nine Things I Wish I'd Known about Being a Stay-at-Home Mom" (the title could be off, and I'm too lazy to google it). I tried to load it, but the service was spotty, so I never actually read the article, just its cautionary headline. Still, I could guess at the content. It was posted by a "friend" I don't actually know very well, but what I do know is that she plans fabulous events and pursues writing seriously. From what I can gather via social media, she has a nice home, a good husband, and grown children she loves. Trust me, I get that it's social media. We look at the screen, not through it. The gist was she was worried about her chances at full-time employment because of so many years at home.
I was saddened by the status update, disheartened by what seemed her regretfulness. As I stood there in my work clothes on hall duty, I felt a sense of defiance for all women, whether they be dressed in dry-cleaned skirts or snot-crusty yoga pants.
I am not sorry I stayed home with my girls for all those years, and I don't give a heart-shaped sprinkle if it hurt my chances at moving up the ranks. I don't regret the days I spent making lunch and spreading a picnic blanket on the living room floor because it was raining, or jumping on the trampoline reciting Emily Dickinson poems as if they were nursery rhymes. I don't wish I'd been in some tortuous faculty meeting discussing the futures of America's children. I'm glad I was home raising those children instead.
Middle daughter just brought me a homemade Valentine (the best kind). In it she writes, "I want you to know I love you so much, and I'm very glad you're my mother. Thank you for all that you do for us."
Don't get me wrong. Jobs are important. I know. They feed us and clothe us and make it possible to send children to college and such. Some women are desperate to stay home and will never-ever get the chance. That makes my heart hurt, too.
Whether at work or home, I know this for sure. My job, no matter how much I like it at times, doesn't feed my soul the way my three daughters do. It doesn't make my heart swell with pride or longing or worry like they do. No matter the studies or statistics or lifestyle trends, I know in my heart of hearts my choice was the right one at the time.
Personally, I believe most women go to the office or stay home out of love, and for that I'm sending y'all this big fat homemade Valentine! And even though she won't know it, I'm sending it to my Facebook friend, too.
I'm gonna hobble off this soapbox now and take an Advil.
Have a LOVEly Day!