You have sparked the attention of a lot of mothers out there, and I'm here to voice out my opinion as a daughter.
Let me introduce myself. I'm a twenty-four-year-old unmarried and childless writer who grew up not really seeing my mom that much, and was raised by a hands-on dad, a doting grandma, protective sisters, and a string of yayas. I have two older sisters who are in their thirties and are apparently "fake" hands-on moms because they are not at par to your losyang standards in your oh-so wonderful article "How to spot a fake hands-on mom of toddlers." (And by the way, both of them have toddlers and one-year-olds, and they still are hands-on moms, have time to work full-time, and look as young to pass as college girls.)
I am the youngest from a brood of three, and at the time of my birth, things were financially difficult for my family, so my mom had to work her ass off to give all of us a future. I barely remember my mom in a lot of my childhood memories. Heck, she wasn't even there when I had my menarche.
But I have slivers of memories of my mom tying my hair when I was three, my mom crying her heart out when I delivered my valedictory speech in pre-school, my mom putting on my socks as I argued to her that I didn't want to go to school, my mom patiently coaxing me to wake up and feeding me while I was on bed because I was a hardheaded and sleep-loving child, my mom flaring her nose when I accidentally sneezed on her face while I was chewing my breakfast, my mom leaving her office in the middle of the day because I was in a drawing contest and I forgot to bring my crayons so she had to buy me a new set of crayons, my mom bringing home pretty T-shirts from her PICPA conventions, my mom buying me books because she knows how I love reading, and recently, my mom taking a two-month leave just to take care of me when I needed her the most.
My mom was a busy executive. She's a CPA who was on the higher ranks in a rural bank and was out and about for marketing activities, business meetings, and all sort of bank-related trips. My mom wasn't the one who wiped my poop when I was younger simply because my excretory schedule wasn't at the time she was at home. My mom wore high heels and had manicured nails and always looked gorgeous because her career required her so. My mom was a very busy woman and wasn't a hands-on mom, but you know what, dearie?
That does not make her less of a mother.
A mother is not measured by how long or short her "claws" are, by how much (or less) makeup she paints on her face, by the amount of jewellery she wears (or not wear), or the length of her heels.
A mother is measured by the sacrifices and the little things she does for her child, regardless if she has an actual job or "just" a full-time housewife. A mother is a mother because she loves her child no matter what, wherever she is, and whatever she does.
Motherhood does not stop when her child grows up and becomes an adult. A mother is a mother when she goes out of her way to help her inexperienced daughter take care of her new baby. A mother is a mother if she hires a yaya so that someone can watch over and feed her child while she and her husband go to work to earn money to give her child a life.
Furthermore, a mother is a wife when she makes time to take care of herself, because she respects and loves herself like that. A mother cannot love if she cannot love herself. A woman takes care of herself by at least taking a shower, or cleaning her nails, or dressing up nicely, or whatever the heck you might call as "vain."
If you judge a mother just by what you see on the outside, it just means you're a shallow woman who is drowned in her own self-righteous ideals and bitterness of being a losyang mom. I understand that you might have your own back story why you ended up as bitter as you are, but please have some respect for others. I am not a mass comm graduate, but I know a thing or two about responsible journalism. I am not a mass comm graduate, but I know that every writer should do research and think about her audience before writing something.
The way you put it, it's like you're saying a chef is fake just because he doesn't wear an apron. By the looks of it, you are not a good writer, nor a good mother, nor a good person. A good writer is one who practices responsible journalism. A good mother is one who does not judge another mother because of her looks. And a good person is one who respects herself, her community, and the reputation of the entity that you are working for.
Again, dearie, a non-hands-on mom does not make her less of a mother.
A daughter of a busy working mom (who loves her mom to bits nonetheless)
Here's a picture of my sisters and my mom. My mom (wearing a juniper green top and yellow pants) is on her fifties, and my sisters (the one in a blue dress and the other in a brown dress) on their thirties. No trace of losyang-ness, don't they, dearie? Their secret? Time management.