Because of her versatile adaptability to the management of details, woman, all through the ages, has willingly and happily sacrificed herself upon the altar of service. It is not in the province of this chapter to go into the details of the tribal life of the early hordes and clans that came from the north and from the east to establish civilization in the cities of Rome and Britain—space forbids. In this chapter we wish to hold up a picture to the mother, a picture which may speak volumes to her soul; one which perhaps she may ruthlessly throw away—nevertheless, we propose to exhibit it. HOMEMAKING VS. HOUSEKEEPINGA newspaper woman in my office recently told me a story of a mother who finished her high-school education, took some work in a university, and who yielded to the earnest pleas of her lover-classmate through grammar school, high school and college—and married him. To this happy family there came a number of beautiful children. The mother willingly, lovingly, cared for them during their helpless infancy—made their clothes, managed their meals, opened the door for them as they came home from school, met them with a cheery story, listened to their problems, helped them with their lessons—but all through it, first, last and all the time, she also managed the entire home. She dusted the furniture, changed the curtains, looked after the linen, mended the clothes, and even pressed the trousers of her "rapidly rising" husband that he might go out into his "club life" and enjoy the evenings with his associates. The duties of the day so wearied her, and the night vigils with the sick child,—looking after the little coughs, the She was happy and contented until one day when the awakening blow came. In the attic she and her thirteen-year-old son, who was just entering high school, were looking through an old chest when she drew forth some examination reports and some old school cards—holding them up side by side. One set of the cards bore the father's name and the other set the mother's maiden name. In great surprise the boy exclaimed, "Why, mother, I never knew you studied algebra and Latin; why, mother, I never knew you were educated." Her eyes were immediately opened, the scales fell off, she was awakened to the fact that her own son was coming to regard his mother as somewhat inferior, in intellectual attainments, to the father—that she was considered in that home as a mere domestic. True, the steak had been broiled well, the pudding was exquisite, the children's clothes were always in order, the husband's trousers were always beautifully pressed, his ties were cleaned as well as a cleaner could clean them; but where did she stand in her boy's mind and where was she in her husband's mind? "Do you notice how trim and nice Mrs. Smith always looks? Her clothes are always in the latest style, and she combs her hair so becomingly." Such remarks as this from the well-meaning husband cut keenly, and it is well that they do, for often it is only such remarks that wake up our "home mother." Dear reader, I want you to ponder this story. I wish to say to the mother who has started out upon a career in life, who has prepared herself for teaching school, for a business career, for story writing, for millinery, for lecturing, or has perhaps gradu MOTHERS IN THE PROFESSIONSI have in my acquaintance scores of mothers in the professions, newspaper women, women who have carved out brilliant careers for themselves, women who have taught school for twenty years while their children have been growing up, women physicians who have risen in the esteem of all their professional brothers and sisters, women who have conducted cooking schools, who have occupied positions of trust in hospitals and in every walk of life, and who have successfully reared children at the same time. You will pardon me for being personal when I say that since our own little fellow was six weeks old his clothes have been washed and mended and his food has been prepared by earnest and honest women who had not fitted themselves for the career which this boy's mother had chosen. His mother went to her office, cared for her patients, kept up by the side of her husband in the battle of life. All the time there was a woman at home just devoted to that little fellow. A newspaper woman recently told me her story—a story which should impress everyone of my readers as it did myself, and she, like many other mothers in the professions, leaves her home as the little fellow goes to school. His hands have been washed, his bowels have moved, his hair has been combed, his breakfast has been eaten by the side of his mother—she has directed it all. He goes forth to the schoolroom and she goes forth to her profession. All through the day she lovingly keeps in mind these children that are growing up. She works the harder, real love entering into everything she does, because she is not merely earning the bread that goes into their mouths, but is forming a character not only for herself but, because of her broadened horizon, is instilling into their little minds the possibilities of their own career, their own opportunity to enter into the world's work as real world workers. I contend that the mother in a profession has many blessings that the mother who remains at home never has. The mother who remains at home has a viewpoint that is often quite likely, wholly unconsciously, of course, to become small, to become narrow, to become focused upon small details; on the other hand, the mother whose mind and whose heart are so full of the affairs of the office, of the newspaper article she has just written, or the lecture she has just given or is about to give, or the meeting that she is to preside over, is quite likely to become somewhat irritated sometimes if the little fellow doesn't stand quietly to have his hair combed, she is quite likely to "feel rushed;" but under all circumstances, dear reader, whether this mother be a home mother or in a profession, never, never must she allow mental panic to seize her. Ever must we keep in mind that these little ones are just children—children that are still in the developmental stage. WORK OUTSIDE THE HOMEAnd now for the home mother. I believe it is necessary and of paramount importance that she get away from her children (if possible) several hours each day; that she provide for them a caretaker who can relieve the children of her or relieve her of the children, whichever way you may look at it, for we are inclined to think that the children often tire of the mother just about as often as the mother tires of the children. I would have the woman who remains at home, whose husband is able to provide outside help for the heavy work of the house, enter into some uplifting neighborhood work, social settlement work, church work, wholesome club work—anything but bridge and whist and gambling games. I would have them bring into the nursery a woman who is cheery, who is capable of teaching games, of entertaining and amusing these little folks under their own roof. The woman who has graduated from high school, who has a diploma to teach, I would have take a school or, at least, do substitute work. She will be happier—far happier—continuing along the lines for which she has prepared herself, even if all the money she earns be used to pay the help. Some SELECTING A CARETAKERFor a caretaker, the professional or business woman should not select an ignorant servant girl; that would be a great mistake—a crime—a violation of the law that should govern the training of these little people who have come to us to be reared and cared for and fitted to occupy their place among the world's workers. As a rule, one soul does not possess the qualifications for scrubbing and laundry work and also the firm but gentle ministering qualifications necessary for a successful caretaker. They do not combine as a rule. It has been my experience, as a mother with a profession, and that of many others of my acquaintances, that an art student or a music student makes a splendid caretaker. There are hundreds and hundreds of genteel women, with winning manners and beautiful dispositions, who may be obtained to sew on the buttons, wash the faces, and change the clothes of our darlings while we are carrying forward in the world the great work for which we have fitted ourselves during the long struggles of our teens and early twenties. The young woman who is brought in to care for the child should be above the usual "servant" class. She must eat in our dining-room, she should be welcome in the living-room or sun parlor, and be treated as a respected member of the family. Her salary is usually not large for she realizes that she is given something in that home—something that money cannot buy. THE UP-TO-DATE MOTHERNow this young woman (the caretaker) wants to hold her position, and so she is very anxious to carry out in detail the laws and rules that are laid down by the mother. Mother can keep abreast with the world, mother has time to read periodicals that keep her in touch with the great, wide, pulsating Anyone of my readers need not look four blocks from her home to find a mother who is run down at the heel, whose dresses are calico, whose hat is five or six years old, whose black silk dress (the only one she ever had) is worn shiny or threadbare, who works and saves every penny that she can that her children may look well; and, even when the husband does invite her to go out with him, he will often be confronted with this remark: "John, I would like to go, but really my clothes are a little bit shabby." The world is just full of such women, with their very hearts being eaten out of them for the want of a beautiful gown, a beautiful hat or a pretty pair of evening shoes, and they might have them every one if they would be willing to allow the duties of the household to be presided over by a woman that cannot do the things the mother can do, while she goes out and accrues a number of dollars each week which will more than provide for the things that her soul desires so that she may go well dressed by the side of her husband in quest of that very necessary intellectual culture and social diversion. The wife of a prominent judge, in my office just this week, said to me that she believed that most of our social and domestic uneasiness was due to the fact that fathers and mothers and children went out together so seldom. The father goes to his club, the children go to their little gatherings, and mother usually stays at home; although of late, she is beginning to realize the value of the women's clubs. QUALIFICATIONS OF THE GOVERNESSThe caretaker should not be too old. It is a very great blessing if there is an older sister in the family who can come in and assist with this work, or if there is an aunt. If one is to be selected from the open market, then we suggest a woman in her late teens or early twenties whose heart is full of play, whose face is sunny, and who is young enough to appreciate and like the becomingness of youthful dress. It is It is impossible to exercise too much care in the selection of this substitute mother, and when you do find one it is often wise not to keep her too long. A year or so is plenty long enough for any person to be with our children. It is only necessary for anyone to walk out into the public parks and casually listen to the conversations of many of the "chewing-gum caretakers" to discover with what carelessness some people select caretakers for their children. The language they use is not only ungrammatical but oftentimes both slangy and profane. The flirtations carried on with many of the park policemen and bystanders lead us to feel that many people arrive at the idea that their little folks "will grow up some way." If the caretaker is a student, a young woman of culture, and is kept with the family, she will be found to be more circumspect and dependable. Her gentleman friend, if she has one, should be allowed to come to the home. She does not have to meet him out in the park any more than a sister would have to go away from home to meet a friend; and, to my mind, everything centers around the viewpoint of the mother as she selects this caretaker, for if she is her social equal it puts her in a different place entirely to the well-meaning but ignorant servant girl to whose care is often intrusted the lives of the little people. HINTS FOR THE CARETAKERThere are a number of hints we wish to bring together in this chapter for the mother to suggest to the caretaker. For instance, here is a group that one author gives us: BABY IS HAPPY BECAUSEHe is dry. THINGS BAD FOR BABIESCandy. THINGS TO REMEMBERKeep baby out of dust. OVERCOMING BAD HABITSThere are a few bad habits which older children fall into such as lip-sucking or thumb-sucking or finger-sucking which not only narrow and deform the upper jaw, but likewise deform the hand itself. They should be stopped at the earliest opportunity by pinning the sleeve to the bedding or putting mittens on the hand or putting a slight splint on the anterior bend of the elbow. Some children suck their handkerchiefs, or bite holes in their aprons and neckties. Children often bite their finger nails, and a habit of this kind fully developed during early childhood often remains with them throughout life; whenever a nervous spell seizes them they instantly begin to bite their finger nails. Other people pick their nose when nervous, so during very early childhood these habits should be discouraged. One mother helped her little son by beautifully manicuring his nails for him each week. Another child was cured by old-fashioned spanking. The finger tips may be painted with tincture of aloes, or dipping the tips of the fingers in strong quinine water will sometimes help. I know of nothing better for the adolescent child than to teach him how properly to manicure his own nails. Another bad habit that children often get into is stooping or allowing the shoulders to become rounded. Shoulder braces are not indicated in these cases. The children should be allowed to enter the gymnasium or the father should take off his coat and vest and go through gymnasium stunts with the boy. The mother can do the same for the girl. It is often the case that round-shouldered Just as early as possible in the life of the little child he should be taught to blow his nose, to spit out the coughed up mucus from his lungs, to hold out his tongue for inspection and to allow his throat to be examined. He should be taught to gargle, and to regard the physician as one of his best friends. Attention to these minor accomplishments will make it very easy indeed for the physician in case of illness. |