Invisibility

I have been very struck by the idea of the "invisibility" of women's domestic labor. Ann Crittendon speaks of the fact that the household duties of women are largely unnoticed and we only take note of them in cases when they aren't there. I had always considered myself in a very non-traditional marriage. My husband is one who seemed very comfortable when caring for the children. He changed diapers, washed clothes, and cooked dinner for our brood.

When you walk backward and look at the big picture, a different story seems to emerge. I wonder at first if it is just due to the fact that we are getting older, our family and it's needs growing larger. When did this insidious division of labor first occur? Why has it always naturally been assumed that I would be the one to hire childcare? Why do I have to ask for the "time" I need away from the family to exercise or handle the work needed for my online classes? When my husband works late or takes on a new activity (such as coaching the local football team) he does not clear it with me that he will be away from the family and I will need to extend my "on duty" hours. Is it natural that all husbands will, in time, begin to crave and create this so called "traditional" division of work? Or have I been unaware of it's existence all along?

This weekend has been an atypical weekend. My husband was out of the house for six hours coaching a football scrimmage. I was scheduled to start my online classes this week but I agreed to wait for after the game to begin my work and try to cram it all into one and one half days for the entire week. Now that I am holed up with my books and my laptop I see what is my invisible work. My husband has decided to mow the lawn. I can hear the children arguing downstairs. I wait and see if they will work it out for themselves. When it escalates I have no choice but to put down the books and intervene. Next I hear our middle son banging something against a wall. I try to let it go but as it continues it begins to reverberate and I hear the unsettled cry of our 10 month old--who should be napping. Again, I put the books down to care for the children until my husband returns from the yard. There is snapping from my husband, he is tired and I am taking all of this time and leaving him with the children. I feel anger--but worse, I feel guilt. Is this pursuit of a degree--that I know will better the entire family as a whole in the long run--worth the pain the children will experience in the short run?

The Dichotomy of Motherhood

I just started back to school this week in my never ending attempt to finally complete my college degree. Interestingly enough I am taking a class called "American Motherhood"-as if that were something that we can easily discuss within one semester's class. We are discussing an excerpt from Adrienne Riche's Of Woman Born. It is always shocking to me to ever experience anyone expressing negative emotions that are connected with Motherhood. It is sort of the elephant in the room. We all have these feelings from time to time, but we are never supposed to express them. To do so could risk that greatest judgement of all--being called the "bad mother."

Riche does a good job of discussing the dichotomy of motherhood. The irreconcilable halves that make up the whole of feeling towards our children. We are at once the fiercest protectors of these beings, the "mother tigers" ready for a fight at the first sign of the teacher or coach who does not see the true abilities and possibilities that lie within these beings. Yet we can be their harshest critics, seeing them making some of the mistakes we made as children and wanting them to skip over these steps, to listen to the wisdom that we have in order to spare them the pain that we ourselves experienced. We push them to excel and to be the best.

I feel this same dichotomy with my own life. I love my children deeply and know what a gift they are to me. Yet as I sit here trying to study and further my own education, it is not lost on my that my personal needs are taken care of long after all of the days activities geared for the kids have been completed. Before I can sit down with my own books and thoughts there are meals to make, football games to watch, birthday parties to shop for and attend. What message does this send to my children? What message does this send to me?