Don't say it

I found this in my draft folder, composed in 2013 when I had "only" two kids and one more on the way. It still very much expresses my feelings about motherhood and my decision to be at home with my children, not to mention my frustration with having opinionated people state their assumptions and judgments (mothering in a public setting is a very humbling experience). Our finances have improved somewhat since then, but the spirit of what I wrote is still very much true. The only change I made was to add a token photo of His Royal Cuteness at the end.

To the woman at the Tim Horton's, I know you see me on a Tuesday morning with my boys enjoying a cup of tea while they get the splurge-of-a-lifetime: three whole Timbits each. You see us chatting and giggling with each other, and you can't help but come over and admire them. Please, pull up a chair if you wish. Come and meet my adorable children.

Just please, please, don't say it to me.

When you ask what I do for a living, and I tell you that I am a stay-at-home mom, don't say, "well it's great, if you can afford it."

You don't understand what you've just said.

Are you assuming we live on one income in a big, new house in the suburbs? That we drive a brand-spanking new vehicle? That we vacation at Disneyworld and four-star resorts? That our kids go to lavish Montessori preschool classes and wear name-brand clothing? That our 'date nights' consist of eating out at nice restaurants? That when I write out a meal-plan, a meal at a restaurant is ever on it?

That, in short, we live our life like a privileged dual-income family?

Can I tell you how wrong you are?

Our furniture is all second-hand, and by that, I mean, cast-offs from friends and relatives. The only pieces we purchased were from church yard sales, and the lowest of the low prices on Kijiji.

We have almost never bought our children clothing. Literally. It's been either handed down to us, or bought by doting grandmothers.

Likewise, Patrick and I have sparse wardrobes, furbished by Value Village and the generosity of others.

It has been over a year since my last haircut, our family vacations are more Madonna House than Mickey Mouse and we don't eat out, at all, except for this extremely rare moment you happened upon with me and the boys at Tim Hortons. Fine dining, I tell you.

I'm not trying to boast to you, to make you think we're heroically frugal. Nor am I trying to whine or complain about how tight we keep our finances by necessity.

I just want you to know that when you assume that we manage on one income the way others live lavishly on two, you misunderstand what I am doing with my kids.

Perhaps you're lumping me in with the Ann Romneys of the world, for whom a huge backlash erupted when Hilary Rosen accused her of 'having never worked a day in her life.' Well, Mrs. Romney had five boys so I'm sure raising them was demanding... but she also did so with a husband who's net worth is $190-$250 million.

In light of that, it might be tempting to join Ms. Rosen's side -- the Romney's could afford to outsource nearly every aspect of their child-rearing and home-management. She could actually fit the cliche of the mom sitting home all day watching soap operas and eating bon-bons.

I assure you, that's not even close to our reality.

And you know what? I'm glad for that. I'm glad that money is tight and that we make sacrifices, daily, to manage things on my husband's income. My children are very young and don't know any differently, but perhaps when they are older, they will know that their father and I lived like this for their sake. We believe so much in the importance of their mother being home with them that we're willing to stretch and squeeze things to make that happen.

So, yes, when you imply to me that only the privileged are able to stay home with their children, I agree. But just not necessarily in the way you mean.

I am privileged in that when my two-year old wakes up from his nap, it is "Mommy" he comes looking for, and is able to find. I am privileged that when my four-year old told his first one-liner joke, I was the one to listen in and laugh.

I am privileged that our life is slow enough for us to just go for a walk when we feel like it, or pull out the Play-doh and paints if the mood strikes us.

Sure, there's lot's going on in our life, but it's primarily what's happening within the four walls of our smallish almost one-hundred year old house.

In the spiritual order, I am as privileged as can be. I am raising small people who look to me for everything. It can be taxing, the days can be long, but I am so content to be with my children on a daily basis. I have been handed an enormous holy task that I love. I am privileged.

I know there are many moms who work long days at jobs that maybe they enjoy, or worse, maybe they don't enjoy, and they would rather be at home with their children. It's not at all that they are less motherly or loving than the mothers who stay home. It's not at all that their husbands aren't working themselves like mad to pay the bills. Some times there is more month than paycheque.

I get it. Believe me, I do.

So even in this sense, we are privileged. Patrick has steady work that he enjoys, and if we were in a total bind, I know we have two sets of supportive parents who would help us out. In fact, in lots of ways, they already do. ("Oh I thought you might need another box of diapers from Costco. No, you don't need to pay me back.") That kind of family support really is a blessing, and one that is very rare.

So I understand that, too. Patrick and I can't take credit for our ability to manage things entirely. We lived with my parents for a while when we first moved to Nova Scotia. They are incredibly generous and thoughtful to us. I don't want to play the martyr card, as though my sacrifices are the only way that we survive.

But I also feel hurt and misunderstood when I feel being put into a box by a stranger or an acquaintance. When someone looks at me or my family and says, "well aren't you lucky that you can afford to stay home!" I feel like saying, by many people's definitions, I can't. We make very deliberate choices and trim and cut back on as many expenses as possible.

I suppose what I wish would happen is that there would be a change of language. Mothers are constantly subjected to the unsolicited opinions of others, as well as the spoken, and unspoken, judgments towards them and their choices for their families. Of course I am blessed that I am a stay-at-home mom. But perhaps a better way to say so would be to simply say just that: "Aren't you blessed!" and leave out the thought "that you can afford it."

In reality, I know I am blessed. We may not always be in a position where I will be able to stay at home with our children, and that is incredibly humbling. My heart goes out to women who wish they could be at home with their own kids but circumstances don't allow it. In many ways, they make more sacrifices than I.

One of the four cutest employers I could hope for.