What’s In a Name? The SAHM Conundrum: Mothers of Invention

“So, what do you do?” I’ve rarely been comfortable with the question. Who is? Neurosurgeons, I guess. During my twenties, everything I did was so transitory—student, temp worker, barista. Even when I had a gig that was outwardly respectable, it was not something I wanted to be doing long term and, therefore, wasn’t something I really felt like discussing. Discontent does not make for good cocktail banter (e.g., “You work at Microsoft, really? How do you like it?” “ Hate it.”).

You’d think that becoming a mother would solve this problem. It’s a one-word, universally recognized job title. But it may have more baggage associated with it than any other job or personal moniker. Mother. Mama. Mom. Pick your expression; they all come with love, esteem, respect, and gratitude, as well as stained clothing, under eye circles, and nonexistent paychecks.

I am not comfortable offering motherhood as my lone calling card when I meet someone new. It’s way too unclear what conceptions he or she might have of the “job.” At the same time, I respect and love mama-hood too much not to include it. So, I’ve come up with a pithy three-part answer:  I wear three hats, I say. I work part-time at a university for benefits and a stable paycheck; I am a writer—in my copious spare time; and I take care of my two kids.

Most of the parents I know who are home at least part-time struggle with an apt descriptor. “Stay-at-home mom” is an easy phrase to trot out, seemingly efficient. But even for people who are focused almost exclusively on raising their kids, it is often imperfect.

My friend Rhonda, who by her own admission is a stay-at-home mom and uses the term, is nonetheless ambiguous about it. “It’s not what I was supposed to become,” she says. “I like my life; I love my kids, but this isn’t the life I thought I’d have.” She and her husband, who were high school sweethearts, always intended to have kids, they just hadn’t thought through who would be in the house on a day-to-day basis. Rhonda laughs, acknowledging that it was a small detail they overlooked until they came to the proverbial bridge.

“It bothers me that if I were a man, I’d be considered sexy or rebellious for doing this,” Rhonda says. “But as a woman, the term just sounds frumpy.”

People wonder what a man is giving up or putting on hold while he’s at home, but it’s easier to forget that a woman is also putting parts of her life on hold.