What housewifery means to me

I turned 35 on Sunday. I'm not sure I'm taking stock, or whatever one does as one year becomes another, but it has prompted a little evaluation of the way things are, particularly in the context of my housewifery and my blog.

In the course of explaining in my college class yesterday how a recent written assessment was enjoyable for me, in response to a colleague's assertion that assessments aren't fun,* I happened to mention that I blog. In the break, someone beside me, who I am rather drawn to, and who has shared the odd moan with me in the nicely conspiratorial way in which friendly alliances can be built, asked me what I blog about. I began: 'Oh, I started it while I was on maternity leave; it's about my life as a housewife.' This pricked up the ears of the two in front, and then another in front of them, and we had a little chat, in which I felt I wasn't properly representing myself. I mean, I was a housewife, I still do all the domestic work (or at least am responsible for it, delegating some bits). But even I don't really recognise that conceptualisation of myself.

On the way home, I met an old neighbour; in the course of our chat, I mentioned that I'm back at work and quite happy about it, and he said 'yes, gets you some of your identity back'. That's the econd time someone (another man in late 30s/early 40s, from London) has said that to me. This is what I struggle to explain: I don't feel I've lost any of my identity, or that my identity has changed. I am still the same. My priorities may have changed - I'm no longer out on the p*** every night, and nor do I want to be - but that part of me is not disappeared, or muted in me. Perhaps to the outside world - to people who don't know me.... So my external face might be different; new people I meet have different expectations or assumptions of me when I say I have a baby, or I'm on maternity leave. But what I don't say is 'I'm a mother'. That is still not how I conceive of myself; that's not how I identify myself. I'm Peggy. I'm a 17 year old in a 35 year old body. I'm a generation x-er, a slacker into music, I'm a drinker, a bad dancer, a smoker who hasn't had a cigarette for a long, long time. I like cooking, I like baking, I like personal finance and domestic efficiency. But the two lists aren't mutually exclusive.

So I looked last night at other people's blogs about housewifery, to see if I identify with those. Lots of American 'stay at home moms' (or SAHMs) seem to have God. And lots of these (possibly all) are rather sanctimonious about their vocation, and earnest about the blessedness of their lives. Several are retro, their authors into vintage, playing with a historical concept, role-playing, almost. Some posts, like 'School of Housewifery', are about being rubbish at keeping house. It's ok to be rubbish in the home as it is to be rubbish at maths; your skills lie elsewhere, somewhere better - the workplace, the arts. These posts are meant to be funny, full of pratfalls about juggling a hundred things. But I find them slightly undermining, somehow, of the value of domesticity (we don't need to be successful professionally, socially and domestically because domestically isn't important) in the same way I find the former overly earnest about the importance of their job. There's something interesing here, politically, that I'll try and retrun to another time.

But for now, Peggy at 35 received:

GoodFood 101 Cakes and Bakes
2 Cath Kidston (vintage domestic prints) tea towels and a carrier bag holder
Sunflower seeds ('For you and Babs to plant together!')
Some peacock orchid bulbs
Kimya Dawson's Alphabutt (album of children's songs)
An Alessi lily bird soy sauce bottle

I think this means my friends think I'm a housewife. And I'm pleased about that, because they recognise that that's partly about being brilliant and well-rounded, and it's partly a bit tongue in cheek. Because I'm a hundred other things as well.


* I think it's interesting that I found the assignment enjoyable because I was, for once, allowed to be a novice; my day job requires me to write as an expert. For this other woman, students she sees see writing as a chore, and essay writing a means to an end (passing the course), rather than an end in itself (consolidating and extending understanding/learning). She totally missed the point of the session - about using writing for active learning - about thinking differently about how and why we get our students to write, and using writing tasks differently, to inspire interest, motivate students and help them to learn. Not just as a hoop to jump through before you can progress.