Damn, I had forgotten how isolated and depressed I can feel being a stay at home mom. I am reminded of when I was pregnant with Nathan; I was the lead party chef supervising a small group of women on the graveyard shift. They were always kind to me, and I wanted to be the type of boss who worked harder than her employees, and never asked them to do anything she wasn’t willing and able to do herself. I wanted them to respect me, but thinking back I guess I wanted them to like me too. There was one woman who was a born again Christian. She was a hard working, kind mother of two, and as long as she wasn’t trying to convert me we got along well. Being an unmarried 18 year old, I was nervous about telling her that I was pregnant. I played fat for awhile but it soon became obvious. After I told her about my pregnancy she asked me constantly when Alex was going to marry me.
There I was: broke, 18, pregnant and working for $7.75 per hour with no insurance. Alex was out of work and I was traveling 90 minutes each way by bus to a restaurant where I constantly picked up extra hours out of a desperate need for cash. I had an envelope hidden in my desk at home. The outside was marked Crib Fund. At times I needed to sit down to rest when before I’d been able to work twelve hours straight no problem. I lived on 7UP and those little saltine cracker packets they served with the soup. I hated Alex at times. He hadn’t asked me to marry him. He hadn’t wrapped his arms around me and told me that everything would be OK. I was mad at myself too, and I kept thinking that if Alex would just get a job and I could be a stay at home mom I would be happy and I would never complain ever again.
Finally Alex did find a job, and I was able to rest for a few weeks before Nathan was born. In the beginning I felt OK resting during the day while Alex was at work. I was recovering from pregnancy, labor and delivery. I was breast feeding. Then I started to feel guilty. The laundry piled up, as did the dishes, and I had no idea how to go grocery shopping with a baby and no car. When Alex would get home from work I would have him watch Nathan so I could have a shower. That shower was the highlight of my entire day. One evening as I stepped out of the tub, wrapping myself with a towel, I glanced at my face in the bathroom mirror and burst into tears. This sucked too! I had envisioned myself at home with my baby, making all of our food from scratch, and greeting Alex at the door every evening wearing a crisp clean apron and saying, “Hi honey, how was your day? Dinner is almost ready.” I felt like a complete failure. I knew that for thousands of years women had managed to keep house, cook and raise children, I just didn’t know how they had managed it. I didn’t expect to be bored, and so fucking lonely.
Over the years I have tried being both a SAHM and a working mom. Both options have their pros and their cons, as I am sure a lot of you with children know. My self worth is and always has been tied closely to my ability to earn some income. I am not saying this is good; I am just being honest. I like having a check with my name on it. Another thing that work gives me is structure to my day and a chance to interact with my coworkers. To be honest, I don’t have any friends. So when I need someone to talk to I either talk to Alex or I call my Mom.
My original plan to return to college was something that scared the hell out of me, but I was excited about it. When I was laid off from my job after taking Family Medical Leave that plan was put on hold as I filed for unemployment and then dealt with interview after interview with the man who was deciding the case. I ended up winning, probably because my employers weren’t returning his phone calls. I had documentation proving that I was laid off eight days before my Family Medical Leave ended.
I joined this food buying club in my neighborhood where people get together and order food and since it ends up being large quantities we get the food for the wholesale price. It took me a little while to get the hang of it, as there are several different purveyors offering different things, and there are several different dates during the month when you have to have your order and payment in by or you miss out until the next order. Before I applied for membership I told the head of the group that I don’t drive and she said that she lives close to me and wouldn’t mind dropping off my orders. I have tried to give her gas money but she always refuses. When she asked me what I did for a living I told her that I was an artisanal bread baker and a pastry chef. She exclaimed that it would be great if I could teach bread making classes to the group. One thing about me, I hate training people, even when I am being paid to do it. I told Alex about it and admitted my regret over those words. “Why the fuck didn’t you just say you were a housewife?” was his response. I realized that it just didn’t sound good to me. I wanted to BE SOMETHING. I was ashamed of myself and when asked an innocent question by a woman who went to college and earned letters to place after her name I wanted to at least have a trade to be proud of. Why do I care what others think? Why do I define myself so much by what I do or don’t do for a living?
So, to make myself feel better about not working I have been working extra hard at home. In addition to my fall garden I have been buying cases of tomatoes, apples and peaches. I have a freezer neatly stacked with tomato sauce, spaghetti sauce, applesauce and apple butter. I peeled and sliced the peaches and froze them too. I even made salsa from scratch and tried to freeze a couple of pints of that. I’ve never frozen salsa before so I’ll have to see how it tastes after it thaws. I have been making huge pots of soups and freezing those to have on hand for fall. Sometimes I like to open the freezer and look at the fruits of my labor. It makes me feel good to see everything neatly stacked and labeled. Yes, I do realize that I could have canned everything instead but I didn’t want to mess with it. Plus, Alex won’t eat home canned foods because he read somewhere about someone dying from improperly canned food and he never shakes stories like that. I’ve also been growing my own bread starters and baking at home. It’s fun now that it’s not a job.
My sister called me yesterday to ask if I could babysit her three kids some Friday in October. I told her that I would check my calendar and get back to her. When I did I realized that my calendar is just scattered with various doctor’s appointments and the physical therapy for my back. Ouch.
I always get excited about the mail even though it’s always bills and junk mail. Yesterday I received a letter that read in part, “Recently President Obama announced that people who receive unemployment benefits may receive financial aid to pay for job training or education. You may be able to continue receiving unemployment benefits while enrolled in an approved training program. Studies have shown workers with more education and training have more secure jobs and higher wages.” (Duh) It used to be the case that those who were on Unemployment weren’t allowed to attend college because you had to be available for work 24/7.
I am excited about looking into this because school was what I had wanted to do in the first place. Thank you Obama!
Hopefully I will find a job training program. My primary care physician took some new images of my back last week and gave me a stern lecture about finding a new way to make a living. She said something about me ending up in a wheelchair within a couple of years if I continue at this pace and being totally narcotic dependent by the time I am 40. Zipping around on a Hoveround while wasted on Percocet sounds pretty awesome, but I’ll give this job training a try.
Besides, my freezer is getting really full and my kids just want to eat Hot Pockets and spicy hot Cheetos anyway.
' September 22nd, 2009 at 04:59pm 11 comments
Dang kids, spicy hot Cheetos do sound interesting…
I’m so glad you received that notice and along with it hope for a better future.
Yay! I hope it works out for you to school!!! Thinking of you and jonesing for those glorious loaves of bread!!!!
I’m coming your way next week (well, actually, Seattle). I’ll be sending good vibes to you from there (it’s closer, so they should be stronger, right?). I’ll send them from here this weekend – I’m going to bake some bread! You should post your favorite bread recipe.
Hope each day is a little better than the last.
Thanks Jean. I haven’t been doing very well and so I have remained silent. I don’t know what to say except, hey I made it another day! I want you to know that I do feel your good wishes, from everywhere, and it means a lot. Thank you so much. I thought you were going to say that we could meet for a drink while you were in Portland. Damn, maybe one day! Bread. I can talk about bread. I am passionate about bread. I can write about that. Thanks for the idea and safe and happy travels to you.
Tammy
I’ll be in Portland (well, I fly in to Portland, but the meeting is in Lake Oswego – same dif?) after the first of the year and will TOTALLY meet you for a drin. Or dinner! On my expense account!
My bread, or rather, rolls. Ack. It was my mom’s recipe and the rolls ended up looking like Elly Mae Clampett helped with them. Too dark on the bottom and kind of flat on top. I can NEVER make them taste like Mom’s. I missed her especially this weekend and thought I could bring her back a little with this recipe. Gah. Something about eggs in a bread dough screws me up every time. I should send YOU the recipe and see if you can tell me if I wrote something down wrong or WTF is going on. Sigh.
Bread. Write about bread. The staff of life and all that crap.
Lake Oswego vs. Portland only exists if you’re looking for Real Estate. It can be very spendy to live in Lake Oswego, and it’s amazing how much more people will pay to be able to say, “I live on Lake Oswego.” I’ve always stuck with the city instead of the suburbs. I spend enough time on the bus as it is.
I am getting ready to go to the shrink and your comment has already made my day, no therapy needed. A drink, or dinner! An expense account! Woo hoo! I’m there.
Your rolls. Are they made with baking powder or yeast? Check the expiration dates because often times home bakers have items expire in their cupboards because they don’t bake that often at home. Eggs. Are you sure the eggs are meant to go into the roll dough and not be brushed on top before baking, a la egg wash? If your looking for a good recipe for egg bread, or challah, check out king arthur flour’s website.
If you want to you can send the recipe on to me and I’ll have a look. It’s horrible when you’re missing someone and you try to make one of their recipes to remember them and it doesn’t work out. I still can’t duplicate the custard my nanny used to give us for dessert. I’ve given up.
I will write soon. I’ve actually had the tiniest bit of a social life lately, so I could write about that. Or bread. “The staff of life and all that crap.” I love it.
Tammy, there is nothing more basic in terms of providing for your family than providing good food. Your enthusiasm shines through in your response to the comment above – “baking powder or yeast? Expiration dates? Eggs – rolled or brushed? Madam, you know what you’re talking about and should be passing this knowledge on, particularly in these hard times.
Hi Thursday. I am more than willing to pass on any and all information about baking and cooking that I’ve learned over the years working in the industry and at home. It’s pretty much the only knowledge that I do have to share, truth be told. I’ve tried to teach my kids. Nathan is much more enthusiastic about learning than Polly. She gets bored by the process.
I was recently asked by a woman if I would be willing to teach classes to groups of people who want to learn how to bake. I have mixed feelings about it. First of all I would have to find a kitchen that worked well for groups. Second would be the transportation of the supplies, as I don’t drive. And third, I don’t think that I am a very good trainer. I seem to be short on patience. I could however, easily work tidbits of info onto this site. Anyone is welcome to make requests or ask questions.
I am searching for an identity now that I am not working. I don’t really feel like a baker anymore, and certainly not the woman who used to stand tall against anyone and proudly wear the title of pastry chef. I guess I am just wondering what else I’ll be able to do to make a living.
Your comment made me feel good though, so thank you.
Your children may not take much notice now but a guarantee they’ll remember the smells coming from the kitchen as they get older and wish they’d taken more notice. Your identity, whether you’re working or not, is clear – you’re obviously a talented baker and most certainly a stupendous writer. Combine those ingredients in some way, say I. Transportation of supplies sounds a bit of a problem as is venue but I hope that’s all that’s holding you back on that venture even tho’ you say you’re not patient. I’m certainly shite at delegating so I sort of know where you’re coming from. Again I say, you’re enthusiasm shines thro – with baking, surely that’s half the battle to get the bread to rise …
I would LOVE for you to try this recipe and let me know what I’m doing wrong. I had fresh rapid rise yeast. Maybe that’s it? I put together a little cookbook of my mom’s favorite recipes (she was an AWESOME cook) after she died for all of the grandkids that didn’t have the pleasure of having been fed by her. And feed you she would!! I’d send you a copy, if you send me your address.
Here it is. Help.
Gossipy Sweet Bun Dough
(Edith Hanson Cookbook 1952)
This is the recipe that Mom used for those wonderful buns and cinnamon rolls. The recipe had the notation on it in her handwriting to ‘always double’, and I know there were never any leftovers! If you make cinnamon rolls with this dough like she did, please know that there should be a law that powdered sugar glaze/frosting is the required topping. No nuts. No caramel. Under penalty of prosecution. Heck, for years I didn’t even know that sticky cinnamon rolls existed!
1/2 c milk 1/2 c sugar 1 tsp salt
1/2 cup margarine 1/2 c warm water
2 pkgs yeast 2 eggs, beaten
4 1/2-5 cups flour
Scald milk. Stir in sugar, salt and margarine. Cool to lukewarm. Measure warm water into large WARM bowl. Sprinkle yeast over water and stir until dissolved. Stir in milk mixture, beaten eggs and one cup flour. Add additional flour to make dough. Turn onto counter and knead until smooth (at least 5 minutes). Let rise until doubled in warm place. Make into rolls. Let rise until double again. Bake at 350 degrees for 15-20 minutes.
And I don’t think you can just quit being or feeling like you’re a baker. I imagine that it’s like being Catholic – you’re either practicing or non-practicing, but you’re always Catholic.