Sunday, May 24, 2009
Ever since my husband made the decision to stop working in order to balance our family and home life, things have been ever so much more manageable in our lives. Groceries get bought, laundry gets done, dinner gets cooked, and life is a little easier for all of us. It has been a necessary, though not a permanent, change. As my husband has assumed the "traditional female" role with respect to keeping our house in order, I sometimes find myself falling into the role of a 60s sitcom "traditional male." I come home, grunt a few times, stare at the television or the internet until dinner, hug and snuggle the kids, get them fed and bathed, and become basically a zoned-out zombie until the weekend rolls around. It is only then that I awaken to my real "maternal instinct." It is only then that I can interact with my kids as more of a mommy than a "provider." I know that I haven't changed, but, right now, my role in their lives has. I'm the breadwinner. I'm working for our family, and somehow, it is taking a lot from me. Lately, I find myself more sympathetic to those 60s fathers, bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders, but always ready with a bit of wisdom or a pithy saying. I know my husband respects the hard working (not bon-bon eating) housewives, as well. Still, at the end of the day, I know my mother's heart is still alive and well, especially when Bean holds my face close and memorizes every feature, softly saying "nose," "mouth," "eyes," and "hair." My heart just melts, and I feel so blessed to just be "Mommy."