Have you seen the woman they call Mom in Indian advertisements? She cooks, washes, plays soccer with the kids, sews party dresses, wears size zero couture and also happens to be a doctor, with a real stethoscope. Her occupation is not really that important – she became a doctor only to be a better mom and wife.
Her hobby is to eradicate bacteria that might hound the family and her special talent is in thinking up novel ways to elongate everyone’s lifeline. If kiddo is hungry – her problem, kiddo dirty – her problem, late for school – of course, her problem, hair messed up – her failure. Irrespective of the nature of the ugly domestic conundrum, Ad Mom is ready with her perfectly round rotis and antiseptic soap. And all she ever wants in return is a mother’s day card and some ointment for the sore back.
There are some things she doesn’t need to sort, of course. She is relieved of the burden of managing the family finances. Decisions like insurance and car loans are none of her business. As long as she buys the right cooking oil for hubby’s heart, he can manage the money.
I don’t buy groceries and I consume food better than I produce it. I outsource domestic cleaning and make it my problem to understand finances. I love my family to bits but have a life beyond them. So, can you obsessed, wonder women please step out off my living room? You are suffocating the hell out of me.