Grasshopper New Media Presents...

At a dinner party once, my ex-husband (and if you know me, you know the unspoken rest of that sentence “who is still one of my best friends”) once said at a dinner party, “Women do the real work.”

He wasn’t talking about cooking or cleaning or yardwork — he was talking about raising children. He had come to the conclusion that whether you are a woman who stays at home or a woman who works outside the home as well, that you are doing what is important to the future of the world … to the heart and soul of the world.

From his perspective, going to work, getting out of the house, asking adults to do something and knowing that 99 percent of the time they will do it (without crying or throwing a tantrum — hey, I said in most offices) is infinitely easier than, say, trying to get a toddler to leave the storytime section at Barnes and Noble. Or take a nap. Or let go of his sister’s hair.

In his humble opinion, he believes that Moms do the real work. He amended this upon some reflection and said, for that matter, men who choose to stay home also do the real work (and he thinks they are both saints and crazy!) For their consistency, nurturing, steadfastness, creativity, scheduling wizardry, unconditional love, humor in the face of smashed carrots — and for the sheer intention of raising healthy, capable, kind kids to offer into the world — the parent that takes on the majority of parenting does the real work.

There were, of course, a couple of people who did not believe that women do the real work, and that was great, it made for a lively debate. There were people who offered more food for thought (no pun intended): Does this automatically mean that women who stay home with their kids give up their dreams? Or that women who choose not to stay home with their kids are somehow less important than stay-at-homers? (which is such a strange title, anyway, as I don’t know many stay-at-home moms who ever stay home!)

I smiled as I listened to the different voices, different opinions, different ways we talk about love and honor and respect, really. I don’t think it’s a contest. I think it is a simple observance on today’s raising and rearing of children — that it is one of the most critical jobs we will ever have — men and women, grandparents and neighbors — and it should be heralded once in a while, along with those that do it.

I struggled with this self-identity when I “retired” after my son turned 2. (I didn’t know I’d be back in the working world AND juggling a toddler just two years later.) But at the time, I wondered what in the world I would say the next time someone asked me, “So, what do you do?” I’d been in corporate America for 15 years — I had been drinking the juice of that life. So I wrote this little mantra below back in 1997 … I always had dreams of committing it to a T-shirt. I think I still will. Any orders?

This is for every working mother who knows that job title is redundant. For every mother who has ever set aside her career, her dreams, herself, to raise a child. For every mother who’s ever been at a loss for words when asked, “What do you do?”

I love. I encourage. I support. I build. I grow. I engage. I laugh. I dance. I listen. I teach. I learn. I hope. I nurture. I heal. I plan. I dream. I set limits. I adore. I cook. I clean. I play. I save. I fix. I read. I count. I color. I help. I garden. I weed. I schedule. I think. I do. I swing. I swim. I climb. I stretch. I seek. I hide. I discover. I connect. I help. I sympathize. I understand. I befriend. I inspire. I guide. I follow. I go. I rest. I breath. I manage. I explore. I pretend. I believe. I make a difference. I raise a child.

Know who you are. Recognize what you do. Choose to take joy in your life’s work.

by Ginger