The other day I found myself in a sticky situation. I was at a party, trying to have a conversation and also trying to prevent my toddler from destroying the host’s home, when the question came up “So, what do you do?”
After a beat, I said “I’m a writer.”
Because I am. Well, kind of. I used to be a journalist. I used to listen to police scanners, track down sources and scribble through those tiny spiral notebooks. Now, I write a freelance article here and there. Sometimes. I blog a little, as you might have noticed.
What I should have said is “I keep this human alive” and pointed to my son, who at that moment was entangled in electrical wires and had a raspberry smeared across his cheek.
Being a stay-at-home parent is far more demanding, exhausting and creative than any job I’ve ever had, yet I’m too embarrassed to say “I’m a mom” when asked the inevitable cocktail party question. Maybe I’m embarrassed because it doesn’t require a college degree or maybe I’m embarrassed because women have been doing it for centuries (which is why we’re always quick to applaud stay-at-home fathers). Maybe I’m feeling resistant because Switzerland is a country so in favor of a “traditional home.” Bottom line: I’m having an identity crisis, and it has nothing to do with being an expat.
(Maybe you can help?)
I need to snap out of it, because today I’m doing the most incredible of feats for someone with my job title: I’m flying internationally with a toddler. Just the two of us and a iPad full of Peppa Pig. I’ll report back when I make it to the other side.
Meanwhile, I hope you are having a nice week. Here are a few, fun links for Tuesday: