Staying at Home: The Big (Financial) Picture

Work Wednesday

“Consider this a warning to new mothers,” began the teaser line of a Salon article by Katy Read that caught my eye a few months ago. “Fourteen years ago, I ‘opted out’ to focus on my family. Now I'm broke.” I bookmarked the unread article and it sat there for several weeks, waiting for me to get around to reading it.

I like my job and I enjoy working. It’s just what I do, what I’ve always done, and it gives me both a sense of purpose and lends some much-needed structure to my ADHD existence. I can’t really imagine myself giving up my 8 hours of structure—of neat supply closets, break rooms with courteous reminder notes about not leaving dirty coffee mugs in the sink, and detailed process documents for everything from getting the copier fixed to writing a big proposal—for the total anarchy of life with a small child.

So, committed paycheck-earner that I am, why was I secretly afraid to read the bad news about opting out of all this awesomeness?

The answer, I think, is “it’s complicated,” but has something to do with our belief, as humans, as women, or as Americans, in the extent of our freedom in the face of cold hard economic facts. I don’t want to quit my job, but I want to believe that if I decide to quit (or get laid off and can’t find another job for several years), everything will work out ok in the end. But will it?

If you take your long-term financial outlook out of the equation, you’re left with a quasi-philosophical choice that remains open to debate, whether at the dinner table, on a blog, or confined to the inner workings of your brain. Like other CurrentMoms, I have wondered "when I die, will I really regret not having worked more?"

But you can’t take money out of the equation. Will things really be ok if you’re out of (paid) work for 3, 5, 10 years? It’s unlikely. As I learned when I finally read the article.

I wasn't worried, frankly, about the long-term economic consequences, partly because nobody else seemed to be. Most articles and books about what came to be called "opting out" focused on the budgeting challenges of dropping to one paycheck -- belt-tightening measures shared by both parents -- while barely touching on the longer-term sacrifices borne primarily by the parent who quits: the lost promotions, raises and retirement benefits; the atrophied skills and frayed professional networks.

For my family, some major life adjustments would be in order even if I just cut back to part time. And I don’t mean adjusting to only 1 latte a week or the heartbreak of sleeping on sheets with less than a 300 thread count. I mean accepting near-poverty as the norm, not saving anything, watching our child’s field of opportunities get narrower. Things that the working poor of this country know all too well. Things that should not happen as long as it’s in my power to do something about it.

My nagging fear is that there will come a day that one or both of us will end up jobless and unable to do anything about it. With the threat of a government shutdown looming every couple of weeks these days, the temporary loss of both of our incomes is a distinct possibility in the short term. The long-term effects of careless budget-slashing could drastically reduce our future job opportunities. Obviously, we’d just deal with it – make some of those drastic changes, find another way of life.

But as Read reminds us, being poor is no joke. The gender pay gap is real, and opportunities diminish the longer you stay out. You owe it to yourself to think about some worst-case scenarios, however painful, when you’re pondering a lengthy detour from the paid workforce.

My husband reminds me, recalling his working-class, immigrant grandparents’ lives, that women have always worked for pay when the family needed money. The idea of a middle-class mother staying home, by herself, with the kids is unique to the mid-to-late 20^th century. Looking at current labor statistics, Read makes this prediction for the future:

The economic crisis will erode women's interest in "opting out" to care for children, heightening awareness that giving up financial independence -- quitting work altogether or even, as I did, going part-time -- leaves one frighteningly vulnerable. However emotionally rewarding it may be for all involved, staying home with children exacts a serious, enduring vocational toll that largely explains the lingering pay gap between men and women as well as women's higher rate of poverty. With the recession having raised the stakes, fewer mothers may be willing to take the risk. If it's not yet the twilight of the stay-at-home mother, it could be her late afternoon. Certainly it is long past nap time.

Photo by Heather Holman on Flickr.

Comments

[Lyn]

Good post. I worry *a lot* about my friends who are SAHMs. Not in any moral or judgmental way about their choice - just about the long term economic implications.

[Karen]

This is so timely. I have never stopped working. For a while I was still working on staff, but after my third child was born and for the past 10 years I have been working as a part-time consultant with a flexible schedule, and have continued to earn even more than I had before, so it has been a choice that worked for us. It kept me current in my industry, well networked, and happily balancing the craziness of both work and family life. I know I would have gone crazy being at home full time, and have enjoyed both the comfort of a second salary and the psychic satisfaction of my work.

A month ago, my husband lost his job very suddenly - the organization he worked for imploded and shut its doors. I was in the fortunate position to, the very next day, speak with my primary client, for whom I was already working 3 days a week (and on whose staff I had served pre-kids) and ask if they would take me back on staff at 4 days at week with benefits. It took a month of my supervisor turning himself into a pretzel with the budget, but they did it.

I cannot believe how lucky we are - what if I had not worked for years on end, and could not have picked up and literally found a job with benefits the next day? Sure, I went through a mourning process - angry that I was forced into this position, that I had to more or less shut down my consulting work, and I am now no longer the primary parent at home -- but we have a continuing income and the benefits we so dearly need, and our kids are safe and will continue to have a roof over their heads while my husband looks for a new job.

Given this shocking and life-altering experience (there was a lot of "how could this happen to me?" going on in our house for a while), I am profoundly aware of the importance of keeping one's foot in the door in one's career.