Almost everyone has a mom—and thank heavens for that! So it’s easy to remember what your mom did, and think you know what I do as a stay at home parent. Making assumptions about how I ought to spend my time is also popular; everyone is an expert on the shalls of house and home.

• I shall keep an immaculate home
• I shall cook tasty yet healthy meals every day
• I shall nurture and guide my children to grow into superior adults
• I shall keep myself up by exercise, diet, and fashionable dress

Fortunately, the only negotiation that matters over my job description is between my husband, my kids (as non-voting constituents), and myself. As with most complex topics, I consider every presumption ripe for investigation, and every given, suspect. A modern life differs markedly from historical norms, and the contemporary house offers its occupants radical improvements and newfangled problems to negotiate.

Maybe I don’t get the clean towels folded and put away before they’re used again, but I manage the finances and do our small business accounting and taxes; I’m not a good nor cheerful cook, but I’m doing a bang-up job educating an unorthodox middle school student according to a curriculum of my own devising.

Occasionally, I’ll still encounter a form where checking a box labelled “homemaker” is my best match. It’s kind accurate, in the sense that my being available at home goes a long way toward defining the atmosphere and function of our collective family life. This is the most traditional role I assume: I am the heart of our family home; I set the standards.

Homemaker snuggles up awfully close to housekeeper, though, and anyone who’s passed through our doors is probably aware that I approach household chores with an attitude of “maintain basic hygienic standards whilst avoiding as much cleaning as possible.”

If I’m brutally honest, I’ll admit that my self esteem is tied up with the state of my house. Sometimes, the mess bothers me. On the other hand, I’m philosophically opposed to the notion that a woman carries the full burden of a presentable home, so I fight to reject this sense of shame. Besides, the latter position requires less frequent dusting.

Our social circle includes several stay-at-home dads. While their daily efforts to simultaneously manage children and keep a tidy home are similar to mine, none of them seem to internalize failures in this area the way I do. Undoubtedly, these men have their own, equally irritating, internal critics and crises, but they don’t appear to see themselves reflected in the same distorted way by their kids’ messy rooms.

I have a creative friend who excels at caring for her family, but she doesn’t always conform to a Martha Stewart meets Donna Reed standard of motherhood or housewifery, and she feels a failure. How can this be when her husband, children, and pets are healthy and happy?

I know and love fellow stay-at-home moms whose lives are replete with Pinterest-worthy projects and well-ironed linens, home-canned organic produce and hand-knit baby clothes. These efforts are valiant, creative, nurturing, and worthy, but they are not the only valid expressions of the good wife or mother.

Instead, I would suggest setting one’s own course of purposeful actions based upon deeply held values, carefully considered. Externally imposed societal expectations are sometimes valid, but sometimes mere figments.

I hope it rings crystal clear in every post that I write: I am in no way seeking to redefine roles for anyone but myself. If I am nudging you, the reader, it is only to think for yourself, seek for yourself, and then define for yourself your own goals and ideals.

Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

What about the unexamined wife?