Jubilate Deo, omnis terra: servite Domino in laetitia.
Sing joyfully unto God, all the earth: serve ye the Lord with gladness. from Psalm 99
I don't intend to lay out, item by item the details of the next few years of my marriage and family. It will be a quick view of the sequence of children. The "work" part will, I hope, become evident.
Within twelve years there arrived to expand the family four more girls and three more boys. This did not stop my desire to "do" more, nor, despite the real fatigue at the end of each day, did it hinder me from being active outside the home - at least some of the time.
Almost immediately after our move to Orange County I became involved with the Women's Club in our parish, at one point serving as president. Within about three months of our moving in I presented myself to the choir director and was pleased to join the alto section of a four-part choir of men and women. The director soon after retired and I saw an opportunity to bring in some extra income. Our pastor accepted my rather scanty background (in desperation, I think), since I was only two years out of college and had no "professional" choir directing experience. I had led our Glee Club in college from time to time - not exactly a big recommendation. The pay was $60 a month. Duties were choir practice once a week, at least one Mass on Sundays, usually a low Mass, weddings, funerals, feast days. Luckily the organ was not a grand cathedral style instrument, but a simple one with only two keyboards and no foot pedals, more like one that would be in someone's living room. I knew, and had practiced before, the technique for organ keyboards, but it was not my forte. I was paid $10 extra for a wedding or funeral. If I supplied a wedding singer he or she received $5. It was always difficult to find one or two people to sing a Requiem Mass on a week-day. There was one time that I had no one available. I sang the whole Requiem solo and a capella.
Number three child was on the way during my first few months as choir director. She was born on Tuesday before the Sunday which was Feast of Christ the King. We were to have a High Mass. I came home from the hospital on Wednesday and the choir met to practice at our home that evening so that I wouldn't have to climb the choir steps (Deo Gratias). On Sunday I made it, pretending I wasn't hurting - just a bit. By the time number six was coming along, I had to quit directing. It was just a bit too much. I did still remain in the choir to sing, however. Having a - remember when the term "male chauvinist was in vogue - husband who fit the just mentioned description, there was really no choice but to capitulate. Women's work was just that. He brought home the bacon and that was enough in his view. This was, I must say, a pretty common situation in those days. I did manage to get out regularly to sing with the Sweet Adelines. Finding adults to talk to - or sing with - was necessary!
I did still make a little extra money on the side by giving neighbor kids piano lessons. That was difficult, though, with babies trying to sleep or needing to be fed, diapers to change, interruptions of all kinds with toddlers and small ones needing attention.
Let's see if I can give you an idea of "women's work" at home. I was up at 6 a.m. to take care of the newest baby's needs (remember 9 in 12 years), get my husband up (yes, he was a sound sleeper), get his breakfast, fix his lunch, fix lunches for the school agers, make sure teeth were brushed, hair combed, clothes adequate, homework in the bags, notes signed if needed). So, Bill Maher, maybe I wasn't getting my .....out the door into the cold, but I had done a good deal of work before Mrs. Working Mom opened the door to leave.
I then had time - usually - for a cup of coffee. Sometimes a neighbor, usually my best friend-to-be for 45 years, popped in to chat and have coffee with me while I got the first of two and sometimes three loads of wash into the machine. And yes, there was wash every day. Dishes usually had to wait. The still-at-home tads needed something or other and baby to be bathed, changed, whatever. There were interruptions all day; but the kitchen had to be swept daily; there were always rooms to straighten. I tried to dust every couple of days, and vacuum at least twice a week, which, confidentially wasn't adequate. If I were expecting, which was the usual state in those days, I was so sleepy for the first three months that I didn't dare sit down to rest. I would immediately fall asleep; and one can't do that with rug rats everywhere! And lunch needed to be made and the remains cleaned up.
Thank goodness for nap time. I would get all the little ones down, take the phone off the hook, put a sign on the front door (Do Not Disturb) and grab a nap myself. That got me through the rest of the day. With the usual baby needs taken care of - again - and whatever else in the kiddie department, it was time to see that I had snacks for the soon to be home school-agers. Usually I had baked some cookies or bread pudding, or something fresh, that didn't take too much time to prepare. Then it was time to sort through the day's happenings with the "big kids," get them out to play for awhile, then in to do homework. Dinner needed to be prepared and some peace and quiet to be hoped for when "Daddy" got home. He needed his rest! His first question upon coming in the door was, "What did you do all day?" as he looked around at the disarray. The second was, "What's for dinner?" It was usually after dinner and the kids' bedtime that I got around to folding the wash and cleaning up the kitchen. My showers or bath were in the evenings after kids were in bed.
The routine then was for me to keep the spouse company while we watched TV, get him his hot chocolate or beer or whatever, and watch Johnny Carson until 1 A.M. I usually fell asleep on the couch, to be awakened to go to bed.
Don't get me wrong. I accepted this as the Good Wife policy. You know, young people today have a different mind set for the most part. I see my own sons helping around the house (some of them), especially if their wives are working, too; and today that's almost a necessity everywhere, even with one or two children. The economy today is atrocious for families.
As the children grew, I found time to sit down and write poetry. It was a release. I got a lot out of my system. Much of it was introspective. As a huge family trauma shook us, it was cathartic. I grew a lot through those years. Before that happened though, when some of the children were in their teens, I wanted to get out of the house for a couple of hours a day, and began selling Avon. Ah, yes, the Avon Lady. It was healthful, too. I rode my bicycle around the tracts with my wares after the older ones were home from school to look after the younger ones. I made enough one year to buy a doughboy pool for our backyard. It had plenty of use. By then we had moved South to the now Lake Forest/Mission Viejo area. The house had five bedrooms. The old house could not be expanded and we were bulging at the seams.
Oh, yes, it was in the 1960s that my best friend and I got really interested in conservative politics and threw ourselves into campaigns. My husband helped as well. There was even a time when our family was involved in some undercover work to check out a militia group for its loyalty, with the FBI visiting us. That's another story, perhaps, for another time. Anyway, my stay-at-home-Mom brain was not atrophying by any means.
Because of the "trauma" that hit the family, I did, at last go to work full time, as a library assistant. It became a real necessity to keep body and soul together and the roof over our heads. Finally, I was using my education, not as I had hoped and planned, but as God led me. After eleven years, the children grown, some married, all independent except for the youngest, I had learned enough and had the experience to apply and obtain a position as Head of a Children's Department in a library on the Central Coast of California. I worked as hard during those eleven years to hone my skills and increase my knowledge, while at the same time still raising the family, alone, and dealing with poverty and near poverty for several years. There were other personal situations that might have been exacerbated by the circumstances of those years; but we pulled through them.
This is not the story of most young women getting married today. Nor is this, I know, what any woman would wish for, as far as career and family go, but I tell it to show that Women at Work are just as much at work at home as at the office or the store or wherever. Even with one or two children, their days are full. Today they usually are a two-car family. There are after-school events, sports, etc. I must say that working full time out of the home, at a time when things were distressing and depressing, probably saved my sanity. I could put into the back of my mind all the problems that were overwhelming me and bury myself in mind stimulating activity. I'm sure that I would have, at some point, gone to work, with or without that Master's Degree. It's in my nature to keep busy. I had also been active for years in Kiwanis and then in a women's sisterhood, PEO.
After I retired I became a retail entrepreneur with a children's book, developmental toys and teacher's supply store before retiring again. Today, at age 80, I'm involved with two of my daughters in starting up a mini-farm enterprise. I try to be as much help in my parish as I can. I don't know how not to Work.
I think of my Grandmother now. In one of my blogs I wrote about her as she was dying, her hands busy until her last breath. She cooked, washed, cleaned, sewed, crocheted, canned and preserved, hammered and sawed, gardened, raised chickens and rabbits, never ever were her hands idle. I hope I make her proud.
Ora et Labora. Pray and Work
4/17/12
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