Opinion: A stay-at-home parent is not a 'luxury'

Why the word "luxury" shouldn't be used to define the role of stay-at-home mum. Photo / 123RF

OPINION:

He looked at me from across the table and said, "Well, you are lucky you have the luxury to stay at home."

Number 8. He was the eighth person to make that statement to me in the course of one week. Eight is, apparently, the straw that broke the camel's back. Or at least this camel.

My sister-in-law, also a mother and always a barometer of the feelings around her, sensed my pressure building. "Staying at home isn't a luxury," she said. "It's hard work! Some of the hardest work I know."

I sighed. My children then approached the table, one loudly demanding a train be placed back on the track and the other simultaneously requesting help in the restroom. I decided to simply walk away. I appreciated my sister-in-law's defence, of course, but it isn't what I was about to say.

I do, indeed, hate it when the word "luxury" is used to define my role as a stay-at-home mum. But not for the reasons you might think.

I am not here to argue who works harder: a working mother or a stay-at-home mother. I stand firm on my belief that it is hard for everyone. What goads me are the financial and lifestyle implications this statement carries.

"Luxury" is a loaded word. Yes, it is absolutely true that my husband and I are lucky that he has been able to secure and keep a job that can pay for us all to live. I am aware that there are many families who require a dual income to successfully sustain their children's basic needs. Raising children is expensive and on the rise and, for many families, the financial equation is hard.

So in some ways, yes, we are lucky that I can stay home. But a luxury is a nonessential item. An indulgence. What I do is essential, and certainly not self-indulgent.

If my in-laws and I were to get down to it across that table, I would have some things to say about the "luxury" nature of our lives. My husband and I made plans and arrangements in order to afford for one parent to stay at home. We made decisions — hard decisions — about what we needed to do when one of us left the work force. Rest assured, my household is more than scraping by. We are happy, warm, healthy and fed. But the fact that we can afford for me to stay home is the result of conscious decisions and choices, not luxury.

The eight people who made this comment to me recently are not fighting to put bread on the table either. These are not the families trying to keep the heat on or digging for change in the couch cushions to buy milk. I might be wrong in one or two instances, but in most cases, if they chose to do so, those families could get by on one income, too. A recent study released showed that families with the highest household income levels spend twice as much per child than families with the lowest income levels and those extra expenses are primarily in education (and the numbers exclude college expenses) and housing costs (no sharing of bedrooms in high income level households, for example). Twice as much. As in, two salaries' worth.

So why am I a luxury while the bigger houses, nicer ZIP codes, vacations and other things we've chosen to do without are suddenly "necessities" that demand a second income?

We have turned off cable and our land line. We have very few digital devices and they are never the latest and the greatest. We limit our purchases of summer camps, classes and dining out. We have one good TV, now close to 10 years old, and it is not for the children. This is what we do, this is what works for us, and these are the sacrifices we have made so we can get where we are.

Not everyone chooses to have a two-career family for material reasons. But people who say they choose to work out of love for a career, or because they simply prefer to work, are rarely those dismissing my life as self-indulgent. They're just friends who have made different choices.

But those who define me as a "luxury," while enjoying plenty of luxuries we've sacrificed, frustrate me. Ours aren't the choices for everyone. But can we agree that, for many of us, they are choices that are made possible by conscious sacrifices, not wealth?

In our society, there are so many different options for parents. In the end, a happy parent makes a happy family. It's not about who is staying home or going in to work for how many hours.

A happy family — a happy extended family — is one that makes the choices that work for them and respects the choices made by others. And that means not using loaded words, like "luxury," that minimize the decisions and sacrifices involved in anyone else's choice.

Written by: Allison B. Carter
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