Feb 21 2014
This post is part of our Torah commentary series. This Shabbat we read Parashat Vayahkel. To read a summary of the portion and learn more, click here.
I was recently hanging out with a mama friend who’s been staying home with her toddler. She’s starting to look for day care, to her own surprise. As she put it: “Before I had kids, I thought, why even have kids if you’re going to give them to someone else to raise them? And now I’m like, oh yeah–he needs to do his thing and I need to do my thing and then we’re both happy to see each other in the afternoon.”
I didn’t think I expected myself to be a full-time mom. Although my mom stayed home to raise me and my two sisters, we were taught we could do anything boys could do. Which by implication means we could grow up to be a parent and still continue our careers, right? Just like our dad. Read the rest of this entry →
Apr 17 2012
These days, it's my job to bring home the (kosher) bacon.
I never set out to be the breadwinner in my home. And yet, for six years running, I’ve been bringing home the bacon. With all the publicity around the new book The Richer Sex: How the New Majority of Female Breadwinners Is Transforming Sex, Love and Family, I’ve discovered that–although I sometimes feel like the only breadwinner-ette on the block, I’m apparently part of a rising trend. So I thought I’d share my side of the story.
I work for a non-profit organization. My husband (as he will gladly tell you) has gobs of earning potential, and pulled down six figures for a while in the early aughts. But for the better part of the last decade he’s been pursuing a PhD in astrophysics, earning a Graduate Research Assistant “salary” while I make more than double that in non-profit work. With his more flexible schedule he also does more than his share of the childcare, errands and housework. Read the rest of this entry →
Mar 13 2012
A not-so-accurate representation.
I shifted on the carpet trying to get comfortable. I was sitting just outside the circle of breastfeeding mothers. No matter how I sat, I couldn’t quite get comfortable–but I don’t think it was the flooring. I tried hard to keep my glance from falling on any of the bare breasts, and if (God forbid) I accidentally had one fall in my gaze, I averted it with a quick snap of the neck. Fortunately, my breast-detection skills had been honed as a teenager. Only now, those skills were being used for avoidance.
And that was the last time I went to a breastfeeding class with my wife. Read the rest of this entry →