Little Lady

We've been having a lot of internet problems. It's been getting steadily worse for probably a year. Finally, we called the cable company to let them know we've had enough. They sent out a repair guy yesterday which happened to be my day home with Amy. I answered the door holding the baby. I wasn't flustered, I wasn't stressed. Apparently, a woman at home on a weekday triggered the "little lady" response in this guy. He became a close-talking, simple word using, patronizing jerk. He explained my internet problems to me in language a kindergartner would be insulted by. As he tracked mud onto my floor and unplugged my fishtank, he told me that my husband had paid for really fast internet and he would surely be happy with me if I allowed a GIANT accelerator box to be installed in the middle of the wall in the dining room. Would I like to have a channel card so I could discuss expanding our service with my husband when he got home? Look at all the sports channels, wink!
 For all he knew I could have been a single mother with no husband reviewing my decisions. For all he knew, I could have been a professional archaeologist who was home for the day.
For him, I looked the part. I had Amy in a cute dress. The vacuum cleaner was out. I was baking bread and folding laundry. There was no man at home. He made assumptions and treated me accordingly.
I have no problem with people clearly explaining what they're doing. I also have no problem with the suggestion that Rob and I would discuss cable decisions together. My problem with this guy was his tone, his automatic assumption that because I was home, I was incapable. His high pitched voice meant for children and damsels in distress. I see people treat my mom this same way in computer stores. They look at her and see a tiny, pretty woman and not a technological badass.
These are the last vestiges of an era we no longer live in. My grandmothers stayed home because women with children stayed home, regardless of their aptitude for domestic tasks (mine were awesome, of course). Our moms' generation fought for the right to be taken seriously in the workplace. Those that stayed home suffered condescension and derision from those that went to work. Those that went to work suffered the workload of a professional and a traditional mother, or worse, felt pressured into not having families at all.
Amy and I have been given this gift by our foremothers: we can legitimately choose where and how to apply our efforts and skills. We can choose a career or family or, most importantly, BOTH. When I am home, I give all my effort and attention and maternal skill to Amy, Rob, and our home. When I am at work, I am equally focused and determined. This is our family's arrangement, and this is our right.
The modern woman lives in a complex and compartmentalized life. It is no longer appropriate to treat any woman like a lesser participant. We do not need or appreciate the old-fashioned assumptions of people that choose to view us as helpless. The challenge for modern cable repair men is to differentiate between kindness and condescension. I believe that the generation of women before me sacrificed being treated gently and kindly for power. My generation will bake your cookies and manage the company in full partnership with the men in our lives who are also holding the baby or earning the paycheck. That is freedom. That is modernity.