Once you become a parent, it seems like everyone wants to give you a performance report. Puts baby in socks and hat: A. Gets rid of all pets that might suck the breath out of baby: F. Trains baby to sleep through the night: C. I was ready for all that, you get your first taste of it as a pregnant mother when you first begin to show. Suddenly everyone is a nutrition and exercise expert. What I wasn’t ready for was how some people feel it is all right to tell you how you are as a wife and mother based on an outdated TV show. There’s the ever popular comment, “Well, aren’t you lucky to be able to stay at home. I sure wish I could.” As if we didn’t make choices and sacrifices so that one of us could stay home. But occasionally you will hear a comment like one I came across recently. The person was asking how come modern stay-at-home-moms (SAHMs) were so lazy. Why couldn’t they be more like June Cleaver? When given the luxury of staying home while our husbands did the real work of putting food on the table and a roof over our heads, how come we couldn't keep a sparkling clean house while looking beautiful and serving the man of the house a martini while putting his slippers on? Why do we whine about the fact that he doesn't pick up his own socks or spend time with his kids? Why can't we be perfect housewives? After all, June Cleaver did it with style and a smile.

I was not raised to be June Cleaver. My parents made a conscious effort to raise me to be a self-sufficient woman. No matter what happened, I was not supposed to rely on a man. My husband knew that before he married me (he also knew I wasn't much of a housekeeper, but I digress.) In June Cleaver’s world, most women joined the workforce only as long as it took to find a husband to take care of them. They were raised knowing that to be a "wife" meant being a "housewife." My husband and I planned things differently. I had always expected to go back to work after having children. But that changed when we became parents. Everything changed- our whole paradigm shifted. We realized that nobody could give our son the love and attention that his own mother could. It has been a hard adjustment for me, one that June Cleaver didn't have to make.

I knew what it meant to be a parent- then I became one. Suddenly I found myself following my instincts instead of my cherished lists of "supposed to's." I held my child- often, we discovered the family bed, replaced strict discipline with gentle guidance and even nursed past the first year. I don't wear lovely housedresses or style my hair with hot-rollers on a daily basis. For now my idea of great art is anything I don’t have to wash off the walls and floor. I have a hard time creating "Good Housekeeping" meals because my toddler seems to always have a meltdown just as it's time to cook dinner. So we have a lot of one-dish meals because I feel that how my son turns out is more important than how dinner turns out.

That brings me to another point. I want my son to grow up ready to be a good husband and father. As we all know, children do as we do, not as we say. So I ask my husband to pick his socks up off of the living room floor (again!) and to spend his after work time winding down with his son instead of the evening newspaper (or in today's world- television.) I don't feel too guilty for making these requests. After all, it's OUR son who needs an involved father. It's also our home and it doesn't matter who pays for it, we all live in it and should all have a hand in keeping it clean.

Yes, my husband works hard; he also knows he's appreciated by us and his employer. Ask almost any SAHM if most people she "works for" appreciate the sacrifices they make. At least my husband gets something tangible- a paycheck- to show that he's "really working." I have to open my eyes to the intangible. He also gets to leave the house and get adult interaction on a regular basis. He gets weekends off, sometimes even Fridays. I'm on duty every minute of every hour of every day. If I slack off on the weekend, I have to do catch-up and work four times as hard on Monday. A few weeks ago I was sick for the first time in years. We're talking fever, sore throat, fatigue...to top it off, my son was throwing up from a stomach virus he caught at playgroup. Did I get a day off? Nope. I had to take care of my sick self and a queasy toddler (toddlers don't like throwing up IN anything in case you didn't know...they turn their heads to throw up ON things- at least mine does.) When my husband came down with what I had later that week, not only did he get a day off, he got two- and with no sick toddler to watch out for! And just in case you're wondering…June Cleaver never got sick.

Ah, and that brings me to my final point.

June Clever was a product of someone's imagination (probably a man!) I'm a REAL woman. My house gets a little messy and so do I. My child did not appear to me half grown with freckles and a cute little cowlick (ok, he has the cowlick.) I have given more of my true self to my family than I ever dreamed I would. Sometimes you can feel the stubble on my legs because my shower got interrupted by a little child who decided that NOW is the time to dial Australia. My husband and I don't have our own little matching twin beds- our whole family sleeps together in one glorious king-sized bed.

I learn as much as I can about the world that my son is growing up in instead of creating my own in the form of a sterile house and a superficial family. It’s creating an environment where my child can feel at home and he can learn through exploration. It’s about believing that it’s more important for my husband to come home to a happy family than to a pristine house. Staying at home for modern women means making choices about what you want for your family. Usually that doesn’t include a home like June Cleaver’s. You could hire someone to clean your house. The job that you do when you stay home can’t be done by anyone else.

I'm not June Cleaver. After all, who would want to be. Where's the spontaneity, the passion- the fun? Not in June Cleaver's house (although I'm sure there are some fresh, baked from scratch cookies there.) But that's all right, because in my house we have these in abundance...even a cookie or two!