What Makes a Working Mother?

I admit I have a strange bias about the term "working mother." I suppose you could call it the "pantyhose factor," even though most of those popular television style shows strongly advise against hose. Perhaps I am old-fashioned, but I conjure up a  woman in a corporate-type suit with those beige not-quite-invisible-for-any-skin-tone stockings, and probably some sneakers for commuting (which is a style no-no,) but dressy shoes for "work."

Certainly the stories "working moms" tell in print or on television about dashing to daycare in pumps, or how they are afraid to get spit-up on their neatly-pressed blouse reinforce that stereotype, as do comments about "stay-at-home mom clothes" as being rather frumpy.

During the summers between my college years I worked as an administrative assistant in my dad's company. I worked in a different department than he did and was surrounded by nearly all women. The only "senior" man in the area was seldom in the office, and the only other man in the department was an administrative assistant, so I saw the "older women" in positions of "power." And yes, it was the era of "power suits."

I hated the job. I drank a lot of water so that I could have an excuse to get up once in awhile to stretch my legs and make that slow walk to the restroom for a break in the monotony.

Although the work was really basic and snooze-worthy, I suppose my brain was working at least a little bit, for I found some major errors and inconsistencies. As I turned in my work and asked for clarification about certain issues, I inadvertently displayed how lazy the main administrative assistant had been. Something he had told my boss would take a week would take me an hour, for example. He was fired.

Despite having a knack for this type of work, I vowed never to go corporate. (My poor dad had thought that I'd become motivated by working during the summers; the opposite happened.) Instead I selected a path of neuroscience research, one that I eventually abandoned publicly because I decided to have a child (thus reinforcing a stereotype I didn't wish to reinforce,) but privately because I wasn't happy with the work or politics surrounding it.

Shortly after my son was born, I started working part-time for my brother's computer company. One thing led to another, and I took on more clients. I started blogging. I started getting freelance work related to online media. I juggle many balls, some of them paid, some of them unpaid.

Am I a "working mother?"

My gut reaction is that this title does not describe me.

No, it isn't because my husband listed my profession as the cringe-inducing "homemaker" on our tax returns one year. And it isn't because I don't think that I work - because I most definitely do. I may not bring in the same wage as a full-time corporate-type, but between drop-off and pick-up, I'm working. (Oh, and I work before drop-off and after pick-up too.) Sure, there are the non-paid jobs such as dishes, laundry, and school volunteer obligations; but I also work for money. Many of my clients assume that I am full-time in an office. In many cases, I must keep up that appearance.

But to me, a "working mother" is someone who does that daycare drop-off. She is someone who is in an office, away from the at-home hubbub. She is the type who can actually get maternity leave, short and inadequate as it may be. She has that "pantyhose factor."

There are lots of issues that this particular type of "working mother" faces that I do not. I've heard plenty of stories about lawyers who work long hours (both in-office and in-home) but who aren't promoted to Partner because they don't partake in weekend golf tournaments with "the boys." And then there are the stories about selecting a daycare or choosing a nanny. There are politics when workers share the same space that I don't face as a work-at-home mom.

I've spoken before about how I feel smack-dab in the middle of "at home" and "at work." I have flexibility which is nice, but then there is an assumption that I am available 24/7. There are unexpected interruptions to my day, both on those days when lots of my clients suddenly have urgent requests, or if there is a school-related emergency. Consider what happened when my oldest son was expelled from Kindergarten: suddenly he had nowhere to go during the day. If I had been a full-time in-the-office worker, I would have had to quit. It is no surprise that many mothers of special-needs kids end up at home, but that deserves a brainstorm of its own.

If I had remained in science research, I would have a similarly unpredictable schedule: experiments with patients are typically after-hours and benchwork requires carefully-timed phases that don't necessarily mesh with a traditional school or business day.  Doctors have odd schedules, too. I can think of many careers that are odd-hours, that don't provide traditional benefits, and which don't require a suit. And yet all these are jobs. I wonder why I don't see them when I think "working mother?"

Especially in tech bundles like Silicon Valley or Washington state, there are women who are engineers and computer scientists, women who probably don't wear pantyhose. There is also an interesting shift in the perception of "stay at home moms:" in some parts, "at home" means "traditional housewife." In other areas, being "able" to stay at home is an indication of wealth, more of a status symbol. This need not be gender-based either; some of the richest families I know have men "who happen to work from home."

I wonder if my reluctance to consider myself a "working mother" is because I want the "status" of "staying at home." Or, perhaps I don't think I am a "working mother" because I don't want to claim to have the same debates and challenges as an outside-the-home worker. Just as I feel uncomfortable calling myself an "autism mom" when I feel I bridge both "worlds," so do I feel I bridge the working and stay-at-home worlds; I experience drawbacks and advantages from both "sides," so feel uncomfortable labeling myself as one or the other.

But this see-saw of thought might have an end. Many women (and men) these days telecommute or have more "flexible" schedules, ones which would approximate what I  have. In fact, it may be that in time a "working mother" or "working parent" is considered to be someone very much like me. I'll just pass on the pantyhose, please.

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Original Silicon Valley Moms Blog post, Kari also writes at The Karianna Spectrum.