Making a Home

My main work is home­mak­ing —both in the sense of cre­at­ing the pleas­ant, healthy phys­i­cal space in which we live and in the sense of anchor­ing the dis­parate indi­vid­u­als who live here into the fam­ily unit that is our home in a much larger sense. I chose to leave inter­est­ing, well-​​paid work out­side the home to be at home and be the pri­mary care­giver for our three kids —with the sup­port and encour­age­ment of my part­ner, of course. We with­drew my daugh­ter from pub­lic school in favor of edu­cat­ing her at home, and hope that some­day we will be able to do the same with his chil­dren. We’ve had reac­tions of sur­prise, sup­port, mis­un­der­stand­ing, and encour­age­ment from var­i­ous friends and fam­ily mem­bers. I hear from var­i­ous pro­fes­sional con­tacts on a reg­u­lar basis, and all of them seem to assume that surely this is a tem­po­rary thing. Why wouldn’t I want to go back to work? Aren’t I bored? Wouldn’t I pre­fer to be out mak­ing money?

When you keep house, you use your head, your heart, and your hands together to cre­ate a home — the place where you live the most impor­tant parts of your pri­vate life. House­keep­ing is an art: it com­bines intu­ition and phys­i­cal skill to creat com­fort, health, beauty, order and safety. —Cheryl Mendel­son in Home Com­forts

In a word, no. I occa­sion­ally miss some aspects of work­ing —but I’m cer­tainly not bored. I’m not intel­lec­tu­ally sti­fled. It isn’t dif­fi­cult to fill the hours of the day with far more inter­est­ing pur­suits than sit­ting in traf­fic, or far more pleas­ant con­cerns than won­der­ing if every­thing is okay at my daughter’s school. Yes, I occa­sion­ally miss some of the inter­ac­tions I had at work, as well as some of the tech­ni­cal chal­lenges. If I didn’t have inter­net access to per­mit me to stay con­nected to peo­ple and infor­ma­tion I might find it more bor­ing to be at home (but I didn’t have any trou­ble find­ing ways to fill my time in pre-​​internet days, so I doubt it). If it weren’t for the fact that I hap­pen to live in a place where I’m sur­rounded by more things to do than I could ever pos­si­bly squeeze in to my life, maybe I’d feel more iso­lated. As it is, I don’t feel iso­lated, bored, excluded, sti­fled —none of that.

I spend much more of my time in fas­ci­nat­ing con­ver­sa­tion with one of the world’s coolest peo­ple —Katie —than I did when I was col­lect­ing a pay­check reg­u­larly. I don’t spend any more time doing house­work now than I did when I was spend­ing sev­eral hours in traf­fic every day. There’s a lot more time in my day for going to the library, read­ing, stitch­ing, mak­ing music and play­ing than there was before. I feel a cer­tain amount of sad­ness that every­one can’t be here at home with us for most of their days. There’s hon­estly some guilt that Sam has to go out into traf­fic every morn­ing and deal with work­ing out­side the home. There isn’t, how­ever, any resent­ment over being at home, and I don’t feel less impor­tant, less intel­li­gent, or less valu­able in any way because I am a homemaker.

Last updated Decem­ber 26, 2000

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