Anachronism

I come from the first generation of American women who grew up believing that we could be anything we wanted to be. For most of us it was a given that we would go to college, and we were raised on the idea that we could be doctors and lawyers and equal players in executive boardrooms. Our generation might even produce, gasp, the first woman President of the United States. When I was a little girl, after I outgrew my fantasies of being the first woman jockey to ride a Kentucky Derby winner, I aspired to such noble professions as physicist, aeronautical engineer, and astronomer. As I got older, I finally owned up to my fundamental dislike of science, and turned my sights on history. I spent four years at a highly regarded liberal arts college earning a bachelor's degree in history, and after I graduated, summa cum laude, I looked forward to pursuing graduate studies, tacking a Ph.D. after my name, and devoting my career to important historical research.

And what am I doing now, you ask, driven by all that potential?

I am a housewife.

I admit, some days I feel like a walking anachronism. You won't find many women of my generation who will identify themselves as housewives. Most women who stay at home with young children are quick to point out that they'll be returning to work in x number of months or years, and often they qualify their stay-at-home status with lofty descriptions of all the wonderful, enriching things they're doing with their children. They make grand statements about how they don't consider housework and cooking their responsibiliy, because even though they don't work outside the home, their job is mothering. While nurturing their children is important to them, it seems equally important that they not be seen by society as "just" wives and mothers.

I have a great deal of respect for these women and their choices, but I have no problem identifying myself as a housewife. I am an at-home mom to my three kids, but that's only part of my job. I do the bulk of the housework, all of the laundry, and cook most of our meals. I haven't worked outside the home in nearly five years, and I'd be perfectly happy never to do so again. My husband and I follow the traditional gender roles pretty closely, and it suits us. Don't get me wrong; we're not totally Ward and June or anything--my husband changes diapers and cooks and puts his own socks in the hamper, and I'm pretty handy with a hammer and a screwdriver--but we do have pretty much the "he-brings-home-the-bacon-and-I-cook-it" type of arrangement. He's in charge of the car and I'm in charge of the kids. He takes out the trash and I load the dishwasher. He goes to business meetings and I go to coffee with my girlfriends.

I'm often asked what I plan to do when the kids are all in school full-time. When I say that I'll probably continue on as a housewife, only with more free time, I'm met with incredulous, even pitying stares. I could look for work in my field, well-meaning friends suggest. After I point out that a twenty-year-old B.A. in history with no work experience attached to it isn't likely to bring the job offers pouring in, I usually get some encouragement to go back to school. "Lots of women your age do," I'm told. I do toy with the idea of going back to school, but more for fun than for career opportunitites. As far as vocation goes, I plan to spend my middle age much as I've spent the past five years, making and tending a home for myself and my family. I doubt I'll have any trouble at all filling my left-over time with gardening and reading and baking and maybe even writing a book or two. I am one modern woman who doesn't need big-A Achievement to feel fulfilled.