I was standing at my husband's annual office party during cocktail hour with a glass of wine in my hand and a smile on my face, meeting and greeting his co-workers, enjoying a rare night out of dinner and dancing, when someone asked me a question I forgot to dread until that moment: So, what do you do?
I pointed to where my husband was standing and good-naturedly replied that I take care of that guy. The gentleman laughed and agreed that was a big job, then we stood there in silence for a moment until he excused himself to mingle. Later on, as we were on our way home, I mentioned the exchange to my husband and added that I didn't know what else to say. He felt the question was impolite when you don't know what the other person does for a living but I reasoned that it was a common icebreaker that I should have been prepared for.
The boring answer is that I don't have a job any pays me for; I am a mother.
I have given it some thought but I don't like any of the answers I can come up with to the question of my work-related status. I can't bring myself to say stay-at-home mom aloud because this common designation rubs me the wrong way; the ability to make people's eyes glaze over in four simple words is remarkable, but more pressing, my kids are not under five-years-old anymore, so this seems like less of a pass every year. Another moniker that makes me cringe is homemaker. This innocent word manages to encapsulate an antiquated view of a woman's role in the family while unfairly dismissing working mothers as people who are not actively creating a family atmosphere. The bank lists my occupation as unemployed, which is true, except for the part-time jobs I've had over the years and the fact that it hints at the notion that I'm looking for full-time work to become part of the real world again but in the meantime, I'm sitting around unproductively. When asked what she did, I once heard a mom reply, "My husband's a doctor...", which I understood to mean that she played a supporting role in her partner's demanding and high-pressure career, albeit an important function, it still sounded like a cop-out. I read someone describe herself as a freelance writer, at-home parent, and community activist, which I would happily adopt if my writing is ever published and gardening at the local school counts as community activist. I won't hold my breath.
I don't imagine these responses would incite genuine interest and sparkling dialogue in most social situations. Part of the problem may be in the nature of friendly conversation; work is usually a harmless topic of discussion when meeting new people, along with the weather. In less polite company, the question sounds more like, "Are you worth talking to?" Either way, if all you want to talk about is office politics and precipitation, or you would judge someone based on their title and position, I'd rather be at home playing with my kids.
I propose a slight alteration to this conventional greeting: What do you enjoy doing?
With this introduction, I may discover things about you I never would have known, things you have a passion for or may be knowledgeable about. What someone chooses to do in their free time to make them happy would pique my interest. Are you an avid collector? A world traveller? Do you make driftwood furniture in your garage or scan YouTube for your favourite versions of the national anthem? I would rather talk about that stuff. Moreover, my answers to this question would be greatly expanded. I may be a non-working mom (nope, that doesn't sound right either), but I could talk endlessly about books, gardening, and current events. I just need a jumping off point that doesn't start with me being gainfully employed.
Until this potential phenomenon catches on, I need an answer to the question, What do you do? I guess I'll have to admit that I have the best job of all: I am a mother.
