She Works, He Doesn't

So the Zebrowskis sat down for what they recall as The Talk. "I said, 'Either get a job at a checkout counter or you have to help me'," Sherie says. So Sean created a marketing plan for her painting business. He began estimating jobs and boosting prices. They began hiring subcontractors. They're surviving, but it's far from ideal. "I'm still looking for a job," Sean says. "When I get it, Sherie can go back to sleeping in. This is not what I want to do, but I like to eat. I will get back to selling software. It's just a matter of when."

One element of the Zebrowskis' experience is near universal: among these couples, who does the housework becomes a battlefield. Some men claim wives develop bionic eyesight once the husband is home all day. "I don't tend to see dirt, but she can spot a single molecule," says Brian Reid, a former reporter who now cares for daughter Clio while his wife practices law. Sociologists speculate that some men actually do less housework when they stop working. Why? Being out of work already threatens their manhood, and taking on "feminine" tasks like cleaning the toilet might only make them feel worse.

For families of laid-off househusbands, there's a more obvious source of marital tension: money. During the Internet boom, Gregg Wetterman prospered by organizing networking parties for Dallas techies. His wife, Jennie, remembers those days fondly. "The summer of 2001, I was at the pool every day," Jennie says. "I went scuba diving, sky diving--I must have read 30 books that summer." But when the tech bubble burst, Gregg bounced through a series of unstable jobs. As his career outlook became bleaker, an old boss of Jennie's called and asked if she wanted a management job at Old Navy. Says Gregg: "When she got the opportunity, I said, 'You don't have to,' but inside I was saying, 'Please, please, please...' "

While Jennie works 50 hours a week, Gregg carts their kids to school and works on documentary films (he hasn't sold anything yet). Their two cars have a combined 286,000 miles; they've ditched their cell phones to cut expenses. At the kitchen table, the tension is palpable. Gregg argues it's smarter for him to keep pursuing nonpaying opportunities related to his aspirations--filmmaking and technology marketing--than to take an unpleasant job just to pay the bills. When the economy picks up, he figures he'll find something that pays well in his field. But he realizes the family can't wait forever. "I'm not pulling my weight financially," he says. Jennie is sometimes resentful. "I would just like for everybody to do their part," she says. "I don't want to be in this situation two years down the road. I'll have to put my foot down." Gregg says it may not come to that. "There's no telling," he says. "Jennie could get a better job."

For many couples, switching in and out of roles may become a routine part of life. Counselors say that 21st-century careers will involve more jumps between industries and more time out of work for retraining or as a result of downsizing. Ted and Jenny Cater, 40 and 43, already have that routine down pat. In 1999 Ted, a salesman, relocated to San Francisco with his company. When his employer went bankrupt, Jenny, who works in marketing, immediately received a call about a $100,000-a-year job in Atlanta. So they moved her career to the front burner; Ted stayed home with daughter Megan. Then two months ago Jenny was laid off. They're expecting a baby next month, but by July they'll both be job hunting. "Whoever wins the best position wins a ticket back to coffee breaks and time to check e-mail," Jenny says. "Not that we don't want to stay at home with the kids, but we are both geared for working."

Some younger couples are talking about these issues long before kids or job-lessness enters their lives. Jennifer McCaskill is a 33-year-old Washington, D.C., lawyer; Ryan Schock, 28, is an accountant. As they look ahead to their September wedding, they're already talking about who might care for their future children. "Quite honestly, I don't want to stay at home," McCaskill says. "I won't make partner if I'm not working full time--and my earnings potential is higher." Schock's response: he'd love to be a full-time father. "He has a lot more patience than I do," McCaskill says. "I think he would be a better parent for our kids." With his master's degree and experience, Schock doesn't think a few years off would kill his career. "She would lose more than I would," Schock says. As more Alpha Earners roam the earth, that kind of outlook may be worth a premium. Forget doctors or lawyers. For a certain kind of woman, a laid-back guy like Ryan Schock may become the ultimate good catch.

WITH KAREN SPRINGEN, PAT WINGERT, ELLISE PIERCE, NADINE JOSEPH, VANESSA JUAREZ, DANIEL I. DORFMAN, JULIE SCELFO, TARA WEINGARTEN AND HILARY SHENFELD

© 2003