Housewife. Home Maker. Domestic Goddess. And Other Boxes I Don’t Want To Tick.
I have this thing.
It’s a bit of an issue.
I never want to come into the “full time mom / stay at home mum / housewife / home maker” category. I have a word association issue.
I see it as insulting.
Something not quite.
Almost there but not.
Something that you can pay someone to do.
Something that someone choose because they didn’t want to make the other choice.
I am here.
And many of my days do consist of pram walks to Coles, cooking curries and putting the clothes for a wash. I enjoy it about 80% of the time.
Is that a bad thing? To be okay with it?
So today I was thinking.
Why is it insulting?
Is it just me thinking this way?
Did my mum have something to do with this? Did Sheryl Sandberg have something to do with this?
I know now.
I keep my home together.
I think about the details and the big picture.
The tangibles and the intangibles.
From ordering the diapers to making homemade paneer, from making the chai to ensuring woollens don’t get shrunk, from telling V which sweater to wear with that tie to making sure we have a dining table.
Choosing Aru’s school and the philosophies of his upbringing. Understanding my husband’s business plans as they unfold and being his steady guide and friend to take his concerns to.
Taking care of myself, protecting the things I hold dear; dance, writing, art and relationships.
I am a wife. I am a mum.
I am the core of my home.
As V says, “If Karishma falls apart, we all fall apart.”
I wonder that the stigma is simply because the house wives and home makers never stopped doing what they did. They were always there, never taking a holiday, staying loyal through the night, serving chai when they were meant to be getting a rest. They never made themselves a rare commodity. Perhaps in a way, they oversupplied. Never knowing when to stop ironing the boys shirts. Always making sure dinner was served. Complaining, but never really stopping either.
It was their choice.
But my choice? Let’s put it this way, every now and then I fall apart to make sure these two boys of mine know what happens when I’m not around.
Perhaps we need to collectively stand together and fall apart.
So the world changes.
To appreciate and recognise the value of a stay at home mum more than the value of a CEO of any empire.
Originally published at womanhood.com.au on August 15, 2015.