As I made my way out of my civilian 5:00am boot camp class with my younger sister, a well-intentioned, conversational woman asked, "What do you do for a living?" I looked over to her and realized she was addressing my sister when she added, "Oh not you. I know what you do. You raise babies all day."

Oh, if only it was as simple as that. If only I could wake up to the spoiled world of nannies and hired caretakers who get compensated to attend to the every whim and necessity of precious little children. Where their sole goal is to make sure they're stimulated, pampered, and mentally engaged. But, the truth is, being a modern-day housewife is so much more than just "raising babies" all day.

Amidst the raising, there's the entire household we must manage. And for a mother such as myself, with three children, this household can become a devilish nightmare, being ever-so-ungrateful to the time and dedication I spend cleaning its corners top to bottom. No matter how much time I devote to its beauty and hygiene, it's right back to being a mess the very next day.

You see, I, as well as many other housewives, suffer from something called the SuperWoman Syndrome. This condition envelopes the obsessions of the housewife who wakes in the early dawn and departs her workload way into the wee hours of the night. Work is never done for the housewife and she becomes a maniac with it. The SuperWoman Syndrome is for the woman at home that is constantly in demand and under high pressure. She is the goddess of her castle, the CEO of the business called family. This SuperWoman is unique, is master of many trades, wears the hats of many titles: counselor, chef, van driver, teacher, photographer, computer operator, facilities manager, laundry washer, a genius multi-tasker. This Superwoman does not don pantyhose or pumps for the workplace but rather sneakers and jeans.

I prefer stretch jeans. And that's because they're flexible. For a woman who is always on the move, the wardrobe must match the job description... because I'm always toting a 24-pound child on my hip, or pushing a packed stroller through the green blades of the soccer field, or helping my tae kwon do-passionate son practice his self defense moves. Because when I'm not lugging grocery-filled brown bags, I am tip-toeing to reach the highest of my cupboards or performing squats as I load my wet clothes from washer to dryer. And then there are the errands to store, to the bank, to the library, made a hundred times more challenging when accompanied by pitter-patters of little ones that find every single thing under the sun interesting. And then there's the tree in the backyard I promised the kids we'd plant before the cold season is in. And, of course, there are those endless chores. A housewife's duties are physically demanding. We need flexibility in the clothes we choose to wear and lucky for us stretch jeans never go out of style.

So, yes, I've admitted it. I suffer from the SuperWoman Syndrome. Every day, in addition to the grand task of mothering, raising and empowering minds of the future, I have an unmerciful list of to-dos on my agenda. It's no wonder we walk across town feeling hairbrained and exhilarated on a caffeine high. One tumultuous day leads to the next and I keep looking for the clock machine to punch out but I just can't seem to find it.

Ahhh, but the beauty in the chaos is addicting. It's crazy to say but I just can't let go. The unceasing demands, the loose ends tied only by the woman in charge, that sense of accomplishment, and amidst the whirls and swirls the glee and giggles of our children. That feeling is irreplaceable. At the end of the day, when the house is moderately clean, and dinner has been put away, when the children are all tucked in and the husband snoozes away, it's all worth it when we close our eyes and take a breath, lingering in a hot bath of bubbles. She was right all along. All we'll remember is raising the babies.

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