I've held many jobs in my 30something years all over the _________Valley in various administrative support and customer service positions; however, the most grueling, demanding, frustrating job I've ever held is that of “stay at home mom”. I've been in the baby booming industry since 2005 and I've got to say the job title is a real misnomer. No one I know in the industry really stays at home, so generally I just use the dated, non-PC term for my career choice and say I'm a “housewife” though I realize that's not accurate either. It's simple and I like that.
Desperate for adult interaction after a year of isolation, I joined a local mothers group where I met oodles of other housewives – a small handful of whom I'm still friends several years later. Others I avoid entirely. Often this leaves me dodging into racks of clothes at Walmart and speeding through parking lots as I high tail it to my minivan as fast as the wheels on the shopping buggy can carry me. (Free ride? Hang on, kid!) This, my dear readers, as you well know, is a very small town. Lord help me, I'd be in seventh heaven if we'd get another Target on the Better Side of Town.
Let me regale you with the types I've met over the course of my employment:
There are the housewives who follow Gwyneth Paltrow as if she were some sort of demigod picking out their “uniforms: so they always look hot, even at the scuzziest park in town. Some might assume they just got back from riding lessons the way they pimp their new $300 boots. If you meet these sorts, you can bet your bottom dollar things are not as fabulous as they appear. Move along.
There are the Fat and Frumpies who have totally given up on ever looking stylish. Their hair hangs lifeless and limp and they don't even try to suck in their muffin tops. Do not be fooled into thinking these wives have winning personalities to make up for their lack of self-care. They do not. Smile without showing teeth and keep walking.
There are the Organics. The ones who can't imagine giving Jack Jack even a drop of red dye, high fructose corn syrup or hydrogenated fats. You will feel like a bad mother if your child is noshing on Fruit Loops or sucking down some YooHoo like it was mother's milk when you run into these sorts. Take heart, we all have to control something. Let them feel momentarily superior with their snack choices. Smile smugly and remember: baby teeth will fall out.
There are the Party Moms who gather together at secret cocktail playdates that you will hear about and wish you could be a part of. They won't invite you. They already decided you're a dingbat and not of their ilk. Don't fret. You will make friends. Keep smiling.
Lastly, there are those who are a delightful mix. The housewives who make the best of what they have without trying to impress or looking defeated. These are the ones I favor. Gather up a few and hold on to them. Don't tell their secrets. Don't talk about them behind their backs. Don't take advantage and presume they want to babysit little Margaret Claire and you will have Cherished Confidantes.
Even with a handful of carefully selected Confidantes, life can still get lonely when you're a housewife in the 'burbs. I have found that Facebook provides me with all the socializing I need most days. (Thank you, Zuckerburg!) Drinking alone is a thing of the past. All I've got to do is hop on my faithful laptop and I'm never alone. My problems no longer seem insurmountable when I read the struggles of others or laugh at the boasts of some. (Oh, would that your life could be as wonderful as it appears, dear Facebraggart!)
If you're a working mother, do not be fooled when you see a gaggle of housewives at the park as you rush to squeeze in all your errands on your lunch break. Things are not as they appear. Rest assured that many of us envy you. You in your fine, stylish outfit and perfect make-up. You with your fresh highlights and perfect manicure. You with your fancy gadgets and sweet ride. You with your colony of worker bees meeting for lunch at the newest hotspot (Chipotle anyone?) looking so sophisticated. You walking out on your husband because you know you've got options. Don't hate, appreciate.
*Lila Jane is slightly bitter, mildly petty, grudge holding housewife raising a pack of tiny humans and living a simple life outside of the 'Noke. She always smiles at strangers, friends and foes with absolute confidence when she runs into them at the market or in Target while wearing her most comfortable yoga pants with various stained yet hilarious t-shirts.
