In the early ’90s, the idea of pausing my ambitious, career-focused life to become a stay-at-home mom would have seemed ludicrous to me. As a fiercely independent feminist, I was trained to chase success, not domesticity. However, life can throw unexpected curveballs, and I’ve found myself navigating this role twice over the past eight years. One experience was relatively smooth, while the other has been a different story entirely.
My initial stint as a stay-at-home mom unfolded in a quaint village in Turkey, where I was teaching full-time until my due date. When my husband, Ali, received a transfer that whisked us away from the city, I suddenly found myself in an isolated coastal town with a newborn. Although it was a challenging adjustment, I persevered with the help of Martha Stewart reruns and the kindness of local moms. By the end of that chapter, I felt like a capable Turkish mother, but once we returned home, I eagerly jumped back into the workforce.
Unfortunately, my second tour of duty was not by choice; it felt more like an unexpected draft. My husband convinced me to take a short break to help our two-year-old through a significant surgery, but what was supposed to be a brief hiatus has evolved into an indefinite commitment. As I immerse myself in the world of American stay-at-home motherhood, it’s become painfully clear that my skills from Turkey don’t quite translate here, and I’ve realized I’m not excelling in this role.
1. My Wardrobe Lacks Athleticism.
In Turkey, the concept of leaving home for errands was almost nonexistent, and the typical attire for moms consisted of a scarf and a cozy sweater vest. Here in the United States, every school pickup seems to require a new set of coordinated workout clothes. Just last week, I overheard a fellow mom mention her “yoga-dress.” I’m not even sure what that is! While many moms strut around in their matching outfits, I’m more comfortable in my jeans, even if my husband chuckles at my fashion choices.
2. I’m Not Fond of Playgroups.
In my Turkish village, socializing with other parents was casual and typically happened spontaneously at the beach or park. In contrast, American playgroups seem to be a necessity for any child to avoid the appearance of being raised by wolves. These groups often lead to regular meetups and forced friendships, which isn’t my style. I prefer to socialize on my terms and maintain a bit of anonymity.
3. Mom Conversations Bore Me.
Back in Turkey, gatherings with other mothers revolved around gossip and light-hearted banter rather than endless discussions about parenting. Here, it’s all about moms swapping stories about babywearing and breastfeeding. While I can join the conversation, I’d much rather dive into topics like politics or literature. My soul craves witty exchanges over diaper dilemmas.
4. Playing Is Not My Forte.
It seems that American mothers spend a substantial amount of time engaged in play with their kids. In Turkey, that responsibility often fell to the grandparents while mothers managed other tasks. I see the logic there; I simply can’t dedicate my day to visiting imaginary islands or engaging in pretend battles. Sure, I can orchestrate a high-stakes Lego showdown, but only for a limited time.
5. I Miss the Office Environment.
Much like my experience in Turkey, I thrive in a professional setting. Isolation isn’t my strong suit, and I relish conversations with adults that have nothing to do with nap times or diaper changes. I miss dressing up for work and the camaraderie of venting about office politics. Who doesn’t enjoy a good rant with coworkers?
I never anticipated that I would find myself more suited to motherhood in my husband’s culture than in my own. Despite my struggles, I’m committed to making it through this chapter of my life. And yes, I could definitely use more yoga pants.
Summary:
Navigating life as a stay-at-home mom in a different culture has its challenges. From wardrobe choices to social interactions, the differences can be overwhelming. Embracing the chaos and learning along the way is essential, even if it means acknowledging the struggles.