Die Mommy Die?

A couple people have forwarded me this article from this month's Elle. Called "Die Mommy Die," the article has been much-maligned for being particularly harsh to moms who discuss their children at work.

In a nutshell: The article is the author's anti-Valentine to motherhood. Her black heart haiku. Sure she loves her child, she says. But she does not understand, and she resents, this new baby-love culture that mandates constant conversation about said baby, especially in the workplace. It especially irks her when she is repeatedly asked whether having a baby is "the best thing she has ever done" and she chafes at viewing motherhood as an "accomplishment."

Some of the sentiments the author voices are ones I thought I believed. They are certainly things I have said, especially when I pretend (as I often do) that I am the "same person" I was before children. When the author--a mother herself--grits her teeth as a co-worker and fellow-mom wants to discuss the minutia of toddlers instead of the latest trends in their industry--I find myself nodding my head in agreement. I have returned to work twice after maternity leaves and plan to return again after this one. I am dreading having to once again navigate from the mommy-ghetto back to the realm of the regular work-force. I have distinct memories of former supervisors who previously would ask me my opinion on strategy giving me busy-work and asking me "what cute things is D. doing these days." It's infuriating.

But--at the same time--is it that bad for people to ask us about our kids? And, is it so wrong for us to want to discuss our kids with our co-workers? The author of this piece paints the picture of mothers on the job who discuss their children as some sort of blathering idiots, shells of their former selves reduced to bromide and cliche. I can remember many conversations with co-workers about a new handbag pre-children. As best as I can tell, a new child merits as much discussion as a new accessory (or a sports game, or the newest CW show for that matter--both prime subjects of office conversation everywhere).

With these tart words, the author of the Elle piece began to lose me:

Why do so many accomplished women, even in the most rarefied professional environments, feel compelled to treat their children as something to be celebrated publicly in minute, often embarrassingly scatological, detail? Why do they assume that tales of their offspring’s quotidian doings will envelop everyone else in a cloak of bliss?

Her harshness only gets deeper as the article goes on--and my sympathy continued to dwindle. Fine, she doesn't want to discuss her children at work. Sure, she doesn't want to discuss other peoples' either. But what skin is it off her back if others choose differently? We are all adults. If you don't like the conversation, choose new conversation partners.

Which is not to say I haven't had my moments of wondering whywhywhy so much discussion--at work and outside of work--has come to revolve around children. What did we talk about before and aren't those subjects still around? But I can also recognize that--whether or not I view motherhood as an "accomplishment"-- having my children is the most important thing I have done in my life. Who doesn't want to discuss the most important thing in life? Moreover, the "Die Mommy Die" author seems to be advocating a sort of false reality in which mothers in the workplace shed parts of their identity. It wreaks of so many horrible things: "Don't ask don't tell" and "passing" come to mind. Aren't we beyond that?

I feel badly for the author of the piece. When people rub me the wrong way in the way they ask about my kids or when people talk about their own children in ways I find comical, I look forwarding to calling or emailing one of a number of friends to have a quick laugh. I wonder if this author has the same outlet.

Plus, the title? "Die Mommy Die"? You would think the author of a piece condemning the magnification and hyperbole of modern day motherhood could have come up with a title a little bit less...hyperbolic.

Bust-In Moms: The New Mommy Trend?

Leslie Bennetts, author of The Feminine Mistake, blogs over at Tina Brown's Daily Beast this morning about the Other Financial Meltdown that’s happening – that of the Wall Street wives, whose husbands are losing their bonuses, jobs and houses, and who are consequently starting to suffer. She quotes one of these women, called “the Mrs. Richan Vulgars”:

“People are totally freaking out,” says Marilena Greig, a divorced New Canaan stay-at-home mom I interviewed for The Feminine Mistake. “I go to yoga in Greenwich with a lot of these women who spend their days shopping. Now their husbands have lost their jobs, and people are terrified. They’re pulling the plug on everything; they’re telling their kids, ‘That’s it!’ These are people who live in 30,000-square-foot houses, but a lot of them live on the edge; they’re leveraged not only in their accounts, but in their lives. There are a lot of ‘For Sale’ signs on these properties now, but the houses are not moving. And two-thirds of the marriages in Fairfield County end in divorce. There are so many women going to these job counselors, but they’ve been out of the work force for 20 years. What do they do to make money? How do they support their lifestyles?”

This got me thinking. For the past five to ten years, during the boom years, we’ve read countless articles about Opt-Out Moms: professional women who went to the best schools, worked in top firms and companies, then left it all when they had kids to stay at home. Clearly that was a choice in the boom years, while their husbands made bank and their 401k’s soared. But now that many of those husbands are experiencing a drop in compensation or job loss, and those 401ks are quickly plummeting, opting out may no longer be a viable choice – especially considering that some of those marriages might have held together sheerly for economic reasons.

With times looking to be lean for the next few years, perhaps we are looking at a new mommy trend: that of Bust-In Moms. Bust-In Moms will be, in essence, Opt-Out Moms who have to get back into the workplace in order to attempt to continue their standard of living. They will either have to rekindle their previous careers as professionals, or try a completely new field if it’s really been 20 years -- or if their old career was in financial services. They won’t be able to be picky; security and stability will be keywords in their job search.

If growing numbers of Opt-Out Moms re-enter the workforce, there will be repercussions on all of the dependent areas. Bust-In Moms will need quality childcare, affordable work outfits, fast and healthy family dinner options, and of course, career guidance. (I also predict sequels of Working Girl and Baby Boom, coming soon to a theater near you!)

The scary part about all this, of course, is that jobs will be hard enough to get and maintain for women who’ve been working all along. All of those flexible schedules we’ve fought so hard for may go flying out of the window in the face of plunging profit lines. For Bust-In Moms, there may be few jobs to bust back into. For instance, Greig, the woman mentioned above, ended up getting a job cold-calling to sell supplemental insurance on commission. But there’s no salary.

Many stay-at-home moms who weren’t professionals or high earners to begin will also have to get back into the workplace, and for them the options will be even fewer.

Bennetts, whose book is all about the mistake stay-at-home moms are making by not earning a living and having a livelihood outside of raising their children, says she takes no satisfaction in being right about her ideas. And indeed, there is no satisfaction seeing the lifestyle options of women and moms dwindle even further. I have a feeling our generation will be forever changed by this recession. I know I’ll definitely be teaching my daughter about the benefits of staying active in the workforce.

What is Lost

I know some incredible women. They are intelligent, thoughtful, and hard-working. They went to top schools, worked at prestigious places. They were on the path to career success, fortune, and in some cases, fame.

But then they got pregnant. And one by one, led by an invisible instinct, they put their careers on hold. They opted for the part-time job, or the one that let them work from home. They stopped obsessing, as they once had, about how to advance in their field and challenge themselves. Now, they obsess about a work-life balance, better hours, shorter commute.

This story is old. We all know it, and though we may not be able to rationalize it, it makes sense on a deep level. We are doing it for our children, and we will be rewarded with their happiness, sense of security, and general well-being.

But for a moment, I want to acknowledge what is lost. A generation of young women who did better than their male counterparts all the way through graduate school. Women who dreamt of breaking the glass ceiling, who didn’t think teaching at Harvard or being a federal judge or winning the Pulitzer was out of their scope. Women who travelled to different countries to work with the poor, and who thought they were going to make a real difference. Women who never flinched at late nights in college, or weekends at the office. Women who, had they continued on their trajectories, really could change the world.

Of course, there are women in our generation achieving true career success while raising children. In my life, they seem to be few and far between. In fact, talk of career advancement is almost absent from our conversations, unless it’s about our partners. When we talk about career, it’s mostly about how to get a job that will allow flexible hours. It’s rarely about getting to that next level or finding something that is more challenging. And it’s almost never about finding something that we really want to do. That would just make things harder for us than they are.

It will be okay. I personally believe that we will all experience a career renaissance when our little ones get older. They will create their own spheres of busy-ness, spend more time with friends and at after-school activities, and amazingly, need us less. At that point we’ll refocus on our careers and throw ourselves back into doing what we really want to do. And it will be all we talk about.

Let's be prepared for that day. Let's not be so distanced from what it is we really want to do that we are at a loss. Let's still take the time to say, "If I could do anything right now, it would be...." It's a little painful to do that, as are so many what-if scenarios. But just a little bit of thinking might lead to something now. Perhaps not a full career change, but a side project involving a labor of love. It may be a far cry from the Pulitzer, but in a certain way, it just may make us feel alive again.