This woman takes the cake. She's a self-proclaimed "housewife" who has nannies and housekeepers to deal with the details, while she writes articles about the evils of working motherhood. I could only post a few snips here, but the whole thing is worth reading, in a makes-your-teeth-hurt kind of way...
We've gotten here because though Flanagan moons over the domestic arts in her writing, she also jauntily reports that in her married life, she has never so much as changed a sheet or been asked to sew on a button, nor could she tell you the price of a single item in her refrigerator. (She also tells me that she's not a “big doer of laundry.”) I ask her why she glorifies housewifery when she shuns its tasks. “For the '50s housewife, the standards in a sense were a lot lower. You know she's putting the roast into the oven or whatever,” she offers. “Modern standards of housekeeping are deplorably low—when you go into these houses, they do not eat hot food.” Her voice drops, as if she's telling a devastating secret. “They do not eat hot food!” she repeats in staccato. “Things are getting nuked. They're eating subpar, rotten food, but then you go to a dinner party at their house and you think Paul Bocuse has been there.” She sounds genuinely disgusted.
For the next few minutes, Flanagan expounds on home-cooked meals, saying how much she missed them when she was sharing an apartment just out of college, working some “dopey job” in Washington, DC. “I felt so lonely, and so sad, and so unwelcome, and I just think it's really great when, if someone's out all day and working, and working, and working—and some days he might be late,” she adds, the “he” being her husband, Rob, whose last name Flanagan does not like to reveal but who, as has been written elsewhere, is a Mattel executive who produced Barbie in the Nutcracker and Barbie of Swan Lake. “I always have his dinner out. It's not fancy. But someone had a hot meal waiting for him. Someone loved him. Someone thought he was out all day dealing with business. It's like you come through that door, Yeah, a hot meal,” she says dreamily.
“Media executives love the idea of a quote-unquote catfight between the stay-at-home mother and the working mother,” says Ehrenreich, who also debated Flanagan online about her “Serfdom” essay. “The media love a fight, and they'll do anything to pick it, including fielding people like her.”
Another reason Flanagan might find much favor in the male-dominated magazine-of-ideas milieu is that her compassion for the plight of men is boundless, while women, frequently, should just shut up and put out. “In the old days,” Flanagan writes, “a housewife understood that in addition to ironing her husband's shirts and cooking the Sunday roast, she was, with some regularity, going to have relations with the man of the house.”
http://www.elle.com/article.asp?section_id=37&article_id=8556&page_number=1