Unemployable

When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they’re not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They’re upset because they’ve gone from supervisor of a child’s life to a spectator. It’s like being the vice president of the United States. — Erma Bombeck

I haven’t had a paying job for many years, but I never considered myself “unemployed” until recently. I’ve been a wife, mother, and full-time homemaker. I cooked, cleaned, gardened, canned, sewed, and whatever else came up along the way, all with the express purpose of caring for my family to the best of my ability and turning a profit in well-brought-up offspring to carry on for future generations.

But since my kids hit their 20’s things haven’t been running so smoothly. As CEO of the Brink motherhood, I find my duties dwindling. My authority is constantly questioned. My inquiries are seen as rhetorical if not ignored altogether. My position as mom has been relegated to maid, cook, and laundry fairy, but without the perks of whipping butts and declaring, “cause I said so!”

I am an unemployed Mother.

Where do unemployed mothers go when they have been demoted to kitchen help? Do we get a job at Perkins? At least there customers tip you in a show of appreciation. Or do we sit it out in retirement, taking up cross-stitching or bird-house building, in a pretense of staying busy?

Being unemployed means nobody listens when you say, “be home by ten,” or “clean your room—it’s a pigsty!” They may look at you and smile as though taking your declaration to heart when in fact they have no intention. Like a company taken over by corporate raiders, you no longer have any real authority. You’re just a figurehead. A Ronald McDonald or Colonel Sanders.

Where is the Unemployed mother bailout?

Unemployed mothers should band together, pool their wisdom, and find a way to get their advice heard. We may have to go on facebook or twitter, and blurp, vent, or tweet in the language of the generation we gave birth to. But in the long run it will be worth it. Cause I said so, that’s why!

Comments

ET says

July 18, 2009 at 8:55 pm

Rant on!
At least it may stop you from entering a US Post Office with murderous intent.
‘Cause you realize another painful reality of unemployed motherhood is not only do they not listen to what you say, but they certainly don’t read your blog. (At least mine don’t; they just make fun!)