Are working mothers working? by: Annonymous Latchkey Kid The key zipped into the lock like a hand slipping smoothly into a glove. Aaron turned the key and the door moaned softly open. The sound echoed through the empty home as the door cracked to a close behind him. Like a knuckle popping—the lights clicked on. His feet tip tapped across the floor as Aaron dropped his weighty backpack and headed for the computer. He flipped the switch on the computer and the monitor, buzzing to life, broke the silence. While waiting for the computer to boot up, Aaron padded over to the fridge for an after-school snack. What to eat? What to eat? The same trivial question nagged him every afternoon. A banana and peanut butter sandwich proved the best choice. He grabbed the bread and spread the peanut butter on it smoothly like a newly shaven leg. He peeled back the skin and sliced the fleshy banana. A tropical scent permeated the room and almost sent Aaron into a far off paradise. . . The computer beeped restlessly, signaling that it was ready. Aaron hurried back. He could hardly wait to challenge his friend to another game of War Craft.
Aaron glanced over at the ticking time piece in the corner of the room. Excellent! He had at least three more hours before either his mom or dad would be home from work—just enough time to skillfully outwit his opponent in War Craft like a smooth talking car salesman making a deal. My Mommy Worx
I was alwayz a biter child wit notin betr to do than tink on the bads of my life which wernt hard to do because i was alwayz havin sometin in life go totaly rong Take for instnce my famly life mom didnt think that i was that great so she tried to be away from me as much as possibel I think thats why she got that full time job that took her away for the week and for lots o weekendz too it was a traveling job you see they were all on a volunteer basis going out of town over the weekends i mean but mom was always the first to volunteer i dont think it was for the money as much as it was to get away from me and dad I could never figur out why she didnt like me and daddy very much
mommy was always a smart lady she says i didn’t get any of her jeans thoug she says that me and daddy are to of a kind she says my jeans must have all come from him He alwayz tried to help me with homewurk cause even when mom was home she said she had no time to help me she said me and daddy wuz stupid Now that im in hi skool my teachrs make the work so hard it is imposibl to do My jr hi teachrs used to keep me after and help me rite my paprs but in hi skool my teachrs dont even no my name Daddy helps me though and i am almost pasing one of my klasses this smester
maybee mom wuz rite maybe i iz stupid What a Toy/Joy Having children was fulfilling-like getting a new toy on Christmas day, but nothing could match the enjoyment she felt with being a part of the work force. Both she and her husband decided that it was best for them to have children, but they also vowed that the children wouldn’t interfere with their valuable careers. Now, just after the birth of their third child, Susan was anxious to get back to what she loved most-her office and clients at the three story building in downtown Chicago. Emotion swept over her as she stepped off the elevator and her heel touched down on the freshly mopped tile floor. It was like being wrapped coming home from a long, lonely journey. "Susan, you’re back already!" Came a shout from across the room. "Welcome back, Susan, we missed you!" Another worker yelled. What could be better. It was as if Susan had gone to war and won the battle for the troops. She felt like a million dollars. Here in the law firm, people really appreciated her knowledge and capabilities. Here she felt like she could truly make a difference in the world. Jill, like Susan, had found her true joy in life—the thing that made Jill feel like a million dollars. Jill had six children and had the opportunity to stay home and raise each of them. She took pride in raising respectable, honest, intelligent children. Jill couldn’t wait to see her children, as adults, contributing to the world in a positive, worthwhile way. Jill’s life revolved around her children and seeing that they were nurtured and cared for. She and her husband’s happiness came from seeing their children succeed and lead happy, fulfilling lives. Money Matters Money brought happiness, joy, and security to the family. Having two incomes was one way that the family could live life to the fullest. The difference between one income and two was like night and day. Everyone in the family felt that the benefits of both parents working heavily outweighed the drawbacks. All spare time away from work was spent with their children. Thus, the time spent with the kids was quality time. Work wasn’t a life consuming thing. The second the parents got home, all attention was focused on the children and their wants and needs. The children knew they were loved and that they came first. Life was centered around the family. Working was just another way the parents showed their love for their children. Thanks to the dual-income, life didn’t have to be limited by financial burdens. The children were free to partake of the finer things in life.
Playing Mother As Jane stepped off the bus and headed for home, she rummaged through the thoughts in her mind and began to feel that uneasiness come over her again. At school today she had been talking to one of her good friends when the subject of the school play came up again. "Do you have your lines ready for the practice today?" Amy asked glaring at Jane as if to force an answer. "Not exactly, but" Jane sputtered in her usual timid voice. "Why? Didn’t you have anyone to help you go over em?" Amy interrupted before Jane could finish her sentence. Jane lowered her head a little as she spoke, "My mom and dad both worked late again last night and Tommy can’t read stuff like that." "Oh," Amy said snotty like, "MY mom spent most of the night helping me with my lines. I think I’ve got em down perfect for practice today." Jane’s face turned the color of ketchup. She could feel her cheeks rising in temperature; a pang of pain pierced her heart. She wished she could imagine herself in a happier place and just imagining it would make it real. "My mom’s just really busy, but I’m sure she’ll help me with my lines tonight." Jane muttered as Amy walked off with her nose high in the air. Why can’t my mom stay home with me and help me with my homework? Why do I have to make dinner and take care of Tommy plus try and memorize stupid lines for a play anyway? Jane’s mind ran wild with hopes and wished intermittent with bits of animosity as she strolled along down the street toward her home. Each step Jane took towards home made her more tense. She hoped for the best-that mom would come home on time tonight. In the back of her mind Jane knew nothing would make today any different from the rest. Mom would come home late, then dad would arrive a little later. They would both praise Jane for having dinner already made. Mom would ask Jane a few questions trying to make up for a whole day lost and to check up on her progress in school. "Oh, you sound like you are doing wonderful as always!" Mom would exclaim. Then, Jane would prepare Tommy and herself for bed, while mom and dad sat down to eat. The thought of being in charge used to really bother Jane. Now that it had been the regular routine for three years, Jane was sort of numb to the whole thing. Sure enough, Jane came home to an empty house with Tommy following right behind. As Jane stirred the milk into the macaroni and cheese, she dreamed of how it would be when she was a mother. As she dreamed one thing was clear—she would do things differently than her mother did! Cottage Life Spending time with her mother was like finding a warm, lit, safe cottage after being lost in a blizzard for hours. The bright light in her mother’s eye was like the reflection of light through the window onto the snow. The attention and time spent with mom reminded her of the all encompassing warmth when you first step in from the cold. Her mother’s mind—full of insight and inspiration, more than one could ever take in, was like a feast waiting for you on the cottage table. The hugs given by her mom were like the down comforter on the cottage bed being wrapped all around you and keeping you toasty warm. When mom left for work it was like being thrown back into the blizzard to find your way back to peace and safety. Like being dressed in all white and praying that you will be found in the midst of all the snow and hail. As if you were left out in the cold without your gloves or coat. Barefoot and cold, nothing can help you get back to the once warm and safe cottage. Desert Wasteland The young, independent boy with wiry hair and sunkissed cheeks, had no bond with the well educated, working woman other than the undeniable fact that she had given birth to him. He felt as if she had carelessly dropped him off in a dry and barren desert full of needle bearing cactuses and venomous snakes. Leaving him to try and survive on his own, alone with nothing but the tattered clothes on his back and the heavy weight of the bright sun blaring upon his narrow shoulders. The successful woman had no spare time for the neglected boy she sometimes claimed as her son. She worked all day coming home exhausted with a mind full of problems to solve, too busy with other things to notice that the suffering boy needed and wanted some sort of attention and unconditional love. Early Motherhood Growing up without a mother in the home was a hard thing for me and my two brothers. We knew she loved us, but at our young age, we also knew that most mom’s were home with their children. Why wasn’t our mom home with us? My mom did the best she could. She made sure we had a wonderful women to take care of us when we were young. She made sure we always had food on the table. She made sure that we had all the opportunities any other kid had at our age. Mom couldn’t help that not being with us made us mature faster than most kids. We had to watch out for each other and ourselves because no one else would. Mom wasn’t there to kiss our knee better when we got a scratch, or make us a sandwich and cut it in that special way. At about the age of 11 (my older brother was 13, and my younger was 7), we no longer had the supervision of an adult after school. We came home to our empty house, and had to fend for ourselves. Mom made sure she set some good rules for us, but how could she make sure those rules were kept when she was miles away at work. I felt the responsibility to make sure things were alright at home. I tried to keep track of where my brothers went and when they would be home. I tried to keep the house semi-clean while mom was away, and I tried to make after–school snacks for me and my brothers. Mom always did tell me I should have been the mother. At a young age, I took on responsibility that most children don’t even have to think about. I didn’t have the carefree years of playing and fun that most of my friends did. I was the mother in a sense. |