May 30, 2010
A few months ago I subscribed to a blog by a mother of five who writes about how she loves parenting and doesn’t feel that staying home with her children is a sell-out of her feminism. As someone who has struggled with feeling like such a sell-out I thought the blog would be encouraging.
So why is it, every time I read one of her posts, I feel terrible about myself and bad about my life?
For example, a few weeks ago she blogged about how she no longer buys cheap clothes for herself. She used to buy whatever the cheapest item was because she thought she didn’t really need anything nicer. The result was that she never bought anything she loved. Now she goes to classy clothing boutiques and buys clothes that she says are really worth loving. After all, she says, we mothers deserve nice things. Yes she purchases less clothes now, but they mean more to her.
It took me awhile to figure out what bothered me about the post. I wasn’t upset about the idea of purchasing clothes you love. Life is too short to wear clothes you don’t love. I was upset by her implication that nice clothes must be purchased in fancy boutiques. She seems to believe that in order to really love themselves women need to purchase expensive clothes in trendy little shops on Fifth Avenue. This hints of consumerist propaganda – a woman’s self-worth is somehow determined by what and where she buys her clothes!
I try to only buy clothes that I love, but I buy most of them at second hand shops. My wardrobe consists of quality-made clothing and I even have a few lovely designer clothes that I have snagged over the years. I shop at the Goodwill because it is both economical (with five growing children, our clothing budget is constantly shrinking) and environmental (4% of American landfill consists of textiles). It also supports a worthy charity that offers employment and training to those who may not find it anywhere else. Most of all, I shop there because I love the thrill of the hunt. Seriously. I love going in and finding a Talbot’s blouse for $2 or a funky sundress in pristine condition that someone probably handmade in the late seventies. The writer in me loves the stories that must lay hidden away in these unwanted garments. And every time I pull such a treasure out of my closet and put it on, I smile like some weekend fisherman remembering when I got the “big one”.
So why, oh why, did her post make me feel inadequate, country bumpkinish, maybe, even a bit gauche.
This week she blogged about her cleaning service and how life is much happier at home when someone else shoulders the bulk of cleaning. Oh how I have dreamed of a cleaning service, but this isn’t really realistic for us. This mommy blogger pointed out that people often have extra money they can re-channel into cleaning help – like opting to forego cable. We already forego cable. My house isn’t really dirty, just terribly cluttered. And realistically I have a fine team of helpers who can and do pitch in. I hate doing dishes, but a biweekly cleaning service won’t help with that and I don’t think we could find enough “extras” in the budget to pay for a live-in! Usually I’m comfortable with the state of my chaotic home, and yet after I read her blog post about how important it is for mothers not to devalue themselves by thinking they have to do the housework, I ended up in tears – not because I have to do the housework, but because to do so is apparently devaluing. What does that mean for the 1.5 million house cleaners in the US, most of whom are women? If we devalue a task, doesn’t that imply some sort of ghettoization of the industry? And since the industry is almost entirely staffed by women, aren’t we in essence stabbing our feminist selves in the back. To hire staff to accomplish a task that you do not wish to do seems different to me than hiring someone to do a job because you can spend time your time doing something better. There is judgment implied in the latter. Instead of doing housework, this mommy blogger is pursuing her freelance career and spending valuable time with her children. She implied that if I’m cleaning, I’m can’t do either of those things.
And so I have unsubscribed from this mommy blogger. She is obviously striking a cord with many women since her blog is growing and she is making appearances on US morning shows. But I’m just looking for someone who makes me feel it is okay to be crazy little me. Someone else who believes that being just a mom, wearing second hand clothes, and living in a chaotic and dusty home is perfectly acceptable. Surely with 100 million blogs on the internet (by the latest Technorati count) I cannot be that much of an oddity!
Related posts:
- Superficiality-expialidocious
- Butterflies in my Stomach
- Taming the Clothes Monster
- Lessening the Laundry Load
May 31st, 2010 at 8:41 am
That’s funny; I read a post on one of the blogs I pop into every now and then the other day with the same general idea.
This lady used to read a popular “perfect mommy” blog but always finished reading and felt awful about who she was afterwards. You and she had different reasons for feeling inadequate, but the end result was the same: unsubcribe, accept and love who you are, and try to find other people who make you feel good aboout yourself. I hope that this will be a growing trend in blogy-land instead of only “perfect mommy” blogs. I like “real mommy” blogs better anyway.
Let me know if you want me to send you the link. Thinking of you lots, but choosing sleep over the phone mostly.
June 1st, 2010 at 11:28 am
Not an oddity at all! Or, maybe I am just an oddity there beside you! I have days like that too. And you know all I can do is think what they are giving up to have the new designer clothes and the “staff”. I my drive an older car, and yes I desperately need to go shopping, but my husband is home with me every night. My children are warm and safe and I am loving them every minute of the day. Sometimes, I think it is all about perspective. You are doing just fine. Don’t get caught up in someone else’s ideas about what makes happiness.
June 1st, 2010 at 5:39 pm
I just have to think about the advice I got from an elderly woman at church when I had my son. She said she wished she had spent more time on her hands and knees with her kids and less time worrying about the housework. I especially think about it when he calls me saying, “Mommy, I need you!” I stop and evaluate whether what I’m doing can wait. I value being able to stay home, and I’m grateful to have that chance. In order to do anything extra, I’d have to give that up. I’m willing to live more frugally in order to keep that prized privilege.
I agree with April on perspective. Nobody is perfect, and anyone posting a blog that is presenting themselves as completely put together may be covering up or may have deeper problems than they realize. I much prefer the humanity in blogs. The mundane, as you put it. The sharing of ideas that I think, “Maybe I could do that…” It’s nice to hear from real people instead of “real” people.