My mother is a high school graduate. She’s also college graduate. She speaks English fluently and can survive with her Spanish skills. What’s more is she has a degree in computer science, a field not exactly known for being populated by women. After graduating college, she landed a job at NASA where she was part of one of the several teams responsible for launch. During this time, she also supported herself financially. In other words, my mother has more than filled the required amount of criteria needed to be labeled as “functioning adult.” However, up until roughly 18 months ago, my mother was a homemaker; also known as a stay-at-home-mom, or in the more traditional term, housewife (although, she’d probably cut me if I called her that). You know, the kind that wears the red-checkered aprons and yellow cleaning gloves, with the perfectly rolled hair and done up face, who sports the diamonds and pearls her husband bought her, and perfectly pressed dresses to match as they set the apple pie on the windowsill to cool. The kind who has dinner ready at exactly 6:15 so it’s ready to eat when her husband comes home at 6:30. The kind who sits on her hands and waits for her husband to come home so she can tend to them. Only, not that kind. Not that kind at all.

My mother wore what was comfortable; a t-shirt and capris. She's never used an apron and I’ve only seen her wear gloves a handful of times. Save for her wedding ring and a modest necklace, with a single pearl and teeny diamonds, that she hides behind her clothes, my mother doesn’t wear jewelry. She wore makeup to my brother’s wedding two months ago but I don’t remember the time she wore it before that. Lastly, she has never, ever made an apple pie from scratch…OK maybe banana nut bread, but that’s beside the point!

Instead, here’s what she did. She quit her job at NASA after my younger brother was born to be a-stay-at-home mom. She did it for two reasons; one, my parents could afford one paycheck and two, they both agreed that there needed to be a parent at home during our time as children. So, of course, it was my mother who quit her job. In her time as a homemaker, my mother filled it with us. Everything she did for the past 18 some odd years, was in preparation for mine and my brothers’ futures.

She made a choice where either outcome came with critics. If she chose to stay, she’d be constantly judged for not doing her “wifely” and “motherly” duties to her husband and children. If she quit, she’d be seen as lazy, weak, “feeding into the patriarchy,” a super-mom who was not to so super. It’s a decision I’ve learned many mothers and women planning their future face. To stay or quit. There are so many reasons a mother can be judged. If she stays, she must be a die-hard feminist or hate her child. How can she be away from her child like that? If she quits, well she must be rich. Living off her husband’s paycheck while she lounges around the house—must be nice. And maybe I could believe that; that a homemaker does nothing but lounge around. Maybe I could buy into the lazy housewife who reads Us Weekly and binge watches "The Bachelor."

I’ve never seen my mother do any of that. When she wasn’t sleeping, she was doing something productive. Whether it was participating in my school’s parent-teacher organization, creating/maintaing websites (for the extra income) or finagling her way through the too complicated school system, or even just simple things like cleaning the kitchen, my mother didn’t rest. Every waking moment was spent working.

And to me, I thought it was normal. Normal that a stay-at-home-mom’s job would be complex, time consuming. She’s running a household (bills, budgeting, etc.), raising the kids, planning their future all while trying not to let dinner burn. I thought this was some universal truth, that the term homemaker was too simple for what a stay-at-home mom does. I thought everyone understood, until a few months ago.

I was talking to someone and they were surprised to hear that my mom doesn’t cook often anymore. They said it like she had nothing else to be doing. Like she wasn’t at the car lot my parents opened six days a week from 9 o’ clock to about 6. Like she doesn’t drive 40 minutes to and from which would mean she would get home about 7 o’ clock/7:15 depending on the traffic. They said it like her job was so simple and there’s no excuse as to why she shouldn’t be cooking.

My mother’s “occupation” stopped being homemaker about 18 months ago. Since then, she’s moved from modern homemaker, to business owner/co-homemaker. I say “co” because lately my dad has been picking up more of the slack than he used to. He cooks and cleans and buys the groeries occasionally and once I even saw him trying to do laundry.

My point is, my mother is anything but lazy. To suggest that a homemaker does nothing but lounge all day is insulting. To sarcastically tell a homemaker, “I just don’t know how you do it,” when really you’re saying “You’re so lucky you get to sit around all day” is extremely rude. To hold it against a homemaker that she/he can can stay at home because they’re “rich” is not always true. My parents planned for this. Going from a double income house to one income takes more changes than just buying off brand cereal.

It is in part because of my mother’s strength and resiliency during her time as a homemaker that I learned to value myself. It is because even with an occupation as simple as homemaker, my mother blew it out of the water. She didn’t sit on her hands, she went out there and kicked some ass all so I could be raised with morals of equality, self-respect and hard work. She knew even then her job was bigger than being a housewife.

You want to call my mother a homemaker? Fine. As long as you understand what all that means.