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I'm constantly amazed by these so-called traditional moms. I was raised by a stay-at-home mom in the sixties, and I would have died of mortification if she had stepped foot in my classroom. School was where we learned to be independent; hovering mommies were not considered a good thing. Stay-at-home moms that I recall did not live and die to be mommies. They pushed kids out the door after breakfast and expected that we would take care of ourselves till dinnertime. If they were lucky enough not to have to work, the moms managed the house and the kids, but they also had clubs and hobbies for themselves. Some, unfortnately, got dumped by their once loving traditional husbands.
I also had friends whose mothers worked (even back in the ol' traditional days!). These friends seemed to do fine. They didn't grow up to be ax murderers, or resentful magazine writers with crazy ideas about social roles.
The stay-at-home moms today aren't traditional so much as hyper-neurotic. What kid could be comfortable causing such self-sacrifice? It's a smothering idea of motherhood, and it's no wonder that Caitlin Flanagan and few others can actually live up to it, except in their own fevered brains.
