A mom by any other name

“What do you want to do when you grow up, little girl?”

“I want to get married and have babies.”

That was then. Now, she’s supposed to say lawyer or astronaut or engineer or priest or whatever – but not wife or mother, or even secretary.

Remember when girls went to college for their “Mrs. Degree?”

They still do, but now the emphasis is on “professions.”

But little girls aspired to accomplishment, even in the “bad old days.” There’s no doubt society then didn’t encourage them. Girls were channeled into “women’s” professions – teacher, nurse, librarian, secretary, waitress, salesclerk. For those seeking more, roadblocks stopped dreams dead in their tracks.

Now, there are opportunities.

But as professional doors opened for women, the door to the home was slammed shut. Women were told they could do anything and have anything and everything.

So women got the education, jobs, titles, professional responsibilities and all the perks. But there was just one teeny, little problem. Way down deep, the majority of women still wanted that old-fashioned dream: to get married and have a family. “Having it all” winds up meaning she has a job and is still responsible for the house and the children.

Yes, there are men who help and even some, who are househusbands. But the truth is many men now expect their wives to work, even with children involved. They cast a blind eye to the damage to her, their children and their marriage.

They believe that in the “old” days, women stayed home doing nothing while he worked. Right. The house runs itself, kids raise themselves. Sure.

My mother is from that generation. She was the youngest in her family. Her father died young, leaving a widow and three small children. That widow, my grandmother, worked from that moment until the day she died.

She did home “piece work” for the apparel industry, opened her own businesses and handled rentals. She did hard, physical work with little time for fun and no time for vacations. It was the Great Depression and it was merciless. The goal was “survival.”

My grandmother sent two of her children to college, although they worked their way through. But for my mother, the youngest, there was no money left. So she took a vocational course after high school and worked to support herself and help her mother.

Mom married young and Daddy didn’t want his wife to work. He believed a man’s responsibility was to care for his wife and children. She was a stay-at-home wife, but since my father owned his own businesses, they worked together through their lives.

She was also Mom and there for us. To this day, I remember her waiting with hot chocolate and home-baked, orange-nut bread when I got home from school.

She was there to teach us what we needed, how to do what was necessary and to become civilized, caring adults.

She was active in politics and was elected to a high party post at a time when few women were even involved politically. Those smoke-filled rooms were in our dining room! She was tough and honest, not necessarily a desired combination in politics.

She also got an outside job during some financial tough times for our family. My father hated every minute of that.

Her kids hated it, too. I hated coming home from school to an empty house, even when I was in high school. I missed having Mom there – “home” involved her presence. I’m so grateful she was home when I was little. I cannot imagine the gaping hole in the lives of little children relegated to day care or sitters.

My mother is tough, kind, generous, loving and funny. She loves to talk, tell jokes and travel. She’s a fabulous cook and baker, a great dancer, a loyal friend, a lover of animals and a saver of “things” – a legacy of the Depression!

Had she had other opportunities, our lives would have been completely different, but not necessarily better – whatever “better” means.

One measure of how blessed I am is that so many of my friends have told me how wonderful my mother was to them – how very much she’s meant to their lives.

My mother! – the one with the strict rules and curfews and chores! Friends envied me! At the time, I didn’t know how lucky I was.

I do now – and I’m so thankful that she’s still here, so I can tell her, on Mother’s Day and every day.