‘Life is a game. Money is how we keep score.’ – Ted Turner
(also attributed to my friend Jane J )
I struggle pretty regularly with the fact that the primary
work of my life at the moment (and my longest running ‘career’) is unpaid. My
husband and I have a very traditional social contract in which he earns enough
money to support our family and I am on the front lines of childcare, and to a
lesser extent, housework. There are some very real practical implications of
this choice for me, in terms of future earning potential and cost of delaying retirement
savings. However, the crux of the problem at the moment has more to do with
psychology than finance.
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| Nothing to do with work - Me on the Brooklyn Bridge |
Because financial considerations are not currently pressing,
I get to explore my options regarding a return to paid work that prioritizes an
increase in my happiness more than in our bank balance. To that end, I have
been reading a book called ‘The
Joy of Work?: Jobs, Happiness, and You by
Peter Warr and Guy
Clapperton. Peter Warr has done research into job happiness for
decades, and has also written a much bigger, and much denser, textbook on the
subject. In this more user-friendly model, the two authors identify 12 things
that are important to job satisfaction (including such things as money, valued role, reasonable and safe work environment, etc.) I am finding it very helpful in
exploring the idea of returning to paid work.
However, I felt that the two areas of value and
money were not addressed well in conjunction with each other. I agree with
their assessment that once you are reasonably well off, additional money doesn’t
add drastically to your happiness. But the happiness leap between poverty and
reasonable income is significant. Then, presumably because the money issue had
been covered, it is not discussed at length in the section that articulates a need
for a ‘valued role’ in your workplace. They do not address the way that being
paid for your work is part of how the value of work is expressed. Of course
there are many examples where the market value of skills doesn’t reflect the
actual relative value of the job (ex:
school teacher vs. movie star.) But as a general rule of thumb, there is correlation.
My happiness, according to the discussion by Clapperton and
Warr, should not increase significantly should I receive reasonable money for
whatever job I choose to pursue. However, I am pretty sure that being
financially compensated is crucial to my happiness with that job. I am not
poor. I can afford to eat at nice restaurants, travel a bit, and I don’t have
to worry about affording things for my kids. But my personal life score in
terms of dollars in, dollars out, is deficient. There is a poverty of
recognition at play.
That poverty of recognition is exacerbated by two things for
me – 1, in the broader culture, being a stay at home mom is not valued and 2, I
don’t especially enjoy the job and I don’t feel that good at it.
The first of these is a little tricky. The media fueled “Mommy
Wars” in which stay at home moms feud with working moms about who is doing it
right, and which way is harder, is disheartening to say the least. And while
there are pockets of support for the value of full time mommy-hood, they aren’t
my people. I am not religious; I am not socially conservative; this is not what
I wanted to be when I grew up. Feminism, I sometimes feel, is kind of a bitch
on this subject. In the push to give women opportunity in the workplace, they
added to the disrespect for the things that are traditionally ‘women’s work’. I
have never been to a party in which the what-do-you-do followed by the I’m-a-stay-at-home-mom
does anything but stop conversation.
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| "Not Rocket Science" |
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| "Things I am not good at" (this was the 'after' cleaning picture) |
Then there are things that I really can’t tell if they help
or hurt my mommy-morale. One is that I didn’t have an established career before
taking off work. That means that a return to work is an entrée into a new field
of some kind. At age 37. I have a degree in history, of little use. And I am
qualified to be a midwife, but that is imminently impractical for life as it
has unfolded for my family
Which leads to the elephant you didn’t know was in the room –
my daughter’s autism. She is a big reason why midwifery won’t work right now
(for the next decade at least), and she is a big reason why it is hard for me
to conceive of hiring out the bulk of my childcare duties. I want to be the one
who is picking her up from preschool and therapy – to directly track her
progress and programs, coordinate everyone’s efforts. (Though I would be ok if
that person was her dad, though market value of our relative skills makes that
unfeasible.) But she is also why the job is harder.
My son, 10, still sometimes misspeaks and asks ‘How much is
it worth?’ instead of ‘How much does it cost?’ So, he has heard our little mini
spiel about the difference between cost (money) vs. worth (value) many, many
times. I am starting to wonder lately if I have been listening to what I have
been telling him all these years. Separating value from dollars is very hard to
do. The notion of scorekeeping is hard to shake. Perhaps there is a way we can
change the game?




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