Since we have moved to Indiana, my job has been to be a housewife. And I'm not doing such a good job with it.
I like my house to be company clean all the time. That involves a lot of what my mom used to call elbow grease. Cleaning bores me silly. Give me a choice of the vacuum and a good book, and the vacuum will stay in the closet.
I loathe laundry. The actual sorting and washing and drying doesn't bother me, it's the folding and putting away the clean laundry that stymies me. I miss the days when my mother-in-law did our laundry and folded it and even separated it by owner. Of course, Margaret has gotten a bit forgetful as she's gotten older, and we did have some mix ups. Most notable was the time we went over to their house for dinner and my father-in-law was sporting my Ramones tee shirt.
I've done a lot of reading lately on the Retro Housewife roles many women have decided to take. I do believe right now that it's important for me to be available for my children. I do believe that since Martin is working a high profile job, and working hard long hours at it, I should take care of the house and support his career. Since I'm not working, we have made financial sacrifices, and I'm pretty good about being frugal.
The feminist in me screams against this, but then quiets down and tells me that this is a choice I made; I have the choice to work or not. I think many women in my age group were raised to believe we had to have it all: the husband, the kids, the house, the career.
We all saw those Charlie perfume commercials.
I spent a good part of my life living to work. Now, I have a more important job; taking care of my family. As my wise friend Judy suggested, I need to take pride in the small jobs I accomplish around the house.
That probably means no more laundry baskets in the dining room.