Show me the money, then maybe I’ll lean

If I, as a member of the paid workforce back in the day, had returned to work when our children were younger and in need of full-time child care, and our only concern was the difference between the cost of child care and the price of my labor (salary), I would have have needed to earn far more than I was earning at the time. What I was earning was nothing to sneeze at; I say this not because I’m greedy and wanted to keep a lot of my take-home pay, and not even because the price I put on being home with my children is so high (though it is).

It’s because of taxes–an issue devastatingly absent in all the back and forth among the Leaners In and Leaners Back and even among the Lean Forwards (I’m talking to you, political progressives).

An oped in today’s New York Times by Lilian V. Faulhaber of Boston University articulates the problem nicely, and asks some key questions: namely, Lean In? What About Child Care? In her two-differently-earning-mom scenarios, I’m closer to the second one:

Say she lives in New York State, where the average cost of day care for an infant is just over $14,000… The second woman’s husband makes $90,000, and the job she is considering pays $45,000… If she were single and without children, her after-tax take-home income would have been around $36,000. But because of her husband’s earnings, almost all of her income will now be taxed at a higher rate, 25 percent. After paying for child care, she will take home only around $16,000. This is not even factoring in the fact that many higher-paying jobs, just the type Ms. Sandberg wants women to lean in to, require longer hours — and the more expensive child care that entails.

It only makes economic sense to stay home with the kids (aside from the tremendous emotional sense it makes for me). But there’s a significant compromise, an outright cost, that comes with this sensible choice:

Every year out of the office will affect these women’s retirement savings and Social Security contributions, their chances for promotion, and the likelihood that they will eventually be able to re-enter the work force at the same level and salary.

Assuming (knocking on wood) that my husband and I remain together, and healthy, and financially stable, I should be able to avoid an even longer-term cost: a higher rate of poverty among aging women. (If you earn less on the dollar now, you’ll have less on the dollar later…)

“It’s the most important thing you can be doing right now,” so many, many well-intentioned friends and colleagues and strangers (yes, strangers) remind me when I say I’m home raising the children.

“Important” does not equal “valued.” It just doesn’t. Maybe there’s more value to somebody like me staying home:

  • less congestion during workday commutes thanks to one fewer car?
  • two less children taking up valuable space in our nation’s barely adequate number of affordable, flexible, high quality child care settings?
  • less competition in the workplace because I am not there? (Just think of how many people could be given jobs if an extroverted, whip-smart, charismatic and efficient woman were not in the way? I’d guess at least two. Ha.)

Maybe. Maybe that’s why I have doubts that we’ll see any of what Professor Faulhaber suggests to remedy the situation, such as subsidized child care for all, or change the tax treatment of child care, whether as an increased credit or business deduction.

I lack no confidence, Ms. Sandberg, in case you (and other readers out there) were wondering. I do, however, lack faith that anybody in Congress, or that a majority voting for those in Congress, will put their money where their mouth is when they say,

“I value families.”

At least not in the next 15  years. Maybe by the time our daughter and son hit the paid workforce, they’ll shake their heads at how unfair and hypocritical we all once were.

bluffs, beads, bugs and bellies

We’re going to miss a deadline tonight, as the House apparently has no plans to vote on anything important today. The President called a big old bluff played by a bunch of big old babies. Perhaps a greater share of our public has woken up, given the sight of this game. Perhaps now more are paying attention to who bears a tad more blame for some absurd gridlock. Perhaps. Perhaps, if the country endures a rocky fiscal start to 2013, they’ll hold people in office accountable, in a less screechy, less costumed manner than that of a random grouping of hot beverage lovers.

I’m not holding out hope. Expectations were so low, nobody is surprised. I’m numb to it now.

Here’s something exciting, though: Our daughter is preparing to host her first slumber party on Friday. She’ll be Eight. Such a big number. We went to a bead store today and picked out materials for her girlfriends and her to make bracelets–seed beads, memory wire… I had suggested some little silver charms for the ends, but leave it to our daughter to go for far sparklier items–crystals, for pete’s sake! These bracelets are going to be nice. We picked out a leather cord, shark’s tooth, and skull and crossbones charm for her brother, too. She’s very, very excited.

And she’s recovered from pink eye, caught last week. I finally got the hang of administering her eye drops so as to cause her minimal discomfort. I told her that the drops were just doing to the “bugs” in her eyes what her brother says he’ll do if he ever sees bad guys: “punching them in the bellies!” She giggled at that.

All told, she says the entire week is her “best ever.” Tonight we’re even heading to a neighborhood New Year’s Eve party, with a backyard fire pit and everything. Their first New Year’s party. The two kids are thrilled. They’re getting so big.

In 20 or 30 years when our entitlement programs are smaller, when our planet’s temperature is higher and our climate is even more chaotic, they’ll be hitting their stride, professionally, socially, emotionally. Tonight, as they eat their pizza and chomp on strawberries and apples, there are all these guys in DC, delaying tough decisions and posturing and lying and hiding.

I just want to punch some bellies.

Instead I’ll just wish you and yours a Happy New Year. It will be happy. It will be good. Our children say so.