Ridiculous title….she’s off on another rant. Bra-burning feme-nazi. Pay moms? What the hell…….
This thing started an itch in my head the day Manushi Chhillar gave her winning answer, and a couple of days later, a newspaper carried an article about how much moms would make.
This is no new debate, every little while someone adopts the cause of the unpaid housewife and the under appreciated mother. The guilt sets in and we try to put figures on the unpaid labour and opportunity cost.
But really? So typical of us to want to quantify everything. Time, work, sacrifices, love…… everything we do is not quantifiable by a mere ‘opportunity cost’ or ‘cost of labour’.
Try giving your mom a salary for everything she does for you, and I’ll watch you run for your life as she hurls slippers and abuses at you.
The newspaper trivialised mothers by breaking up their jobs as:
Nanny, Care giver to parents, Driver, Cook, and a couple of more patronising categories that left me very very angry.
First of all, the salaries they had quoted were probably from 1990.
Secondly, the person who wrote the article was obviously not a mother.
Being a mom means putting yourself second.
From the physical angle of letting go of the body you worked so hard for, having that soft tummy that won’t budge, and stretch marks that are now worn proudly like battle scars.
It’s about being at work physically, and being home mentally, and vice versa. Like a super God of multi tasking. Worrying if they have smashed their heads while making a presentation, and watching your email while feeding them carrots.
It’s having your worst fears realised: Failure. And living in constant fear of failure. Am I doing the right thing? Am I raising my kid right? Am I giving my child the correct values? All this while listening to hundreds of pieces of unsolicited advice from the neighbourhood aunty to the security guard at the airport.
It’s about putting yourself second every single day of your life from the moment that your child enters this world.
It’s about lying awake at night to make sure their quilt is on right, feeding them at odd hours, kissing boo boos, teaching them some tough lessons in life, crying when they cry and living each day with them, as if you’re living your life all over again.
And also for me, it’s about sharing my food. Somehow my kid knows what I love and will make sure he gets the last piece of chocolate and the last bite of pizza. *sigh, the sacrifice*
And this is the tip of the iceberg about what being a mom is. It’s not even 300 words about how strongly we feel for our children and the lengths we would go to for them.
So if some newspaper, some guilty person, or some misled child is trying to trivialise your contribution, you really don’t want me to find you…….
If you want to pay a mom, let me tell you, you can’t afford us.
As mother we MAKE and MOULD a human.
And that, no amount of money can compensate.
Rant over, Peace Out!