Hi! Its me! Bored Housewife!
I am a housewife and, frankly, I'm a little bored. I'm a clichéd suburban story. Used to have a career, used to be the main bread winner for my family, had a blackberry and everything. Then I found out I was not going to have any more kids so I decided to stay home with the one I have.
My daughter's name is Leila (pronounced Lila, my first parenting mistake) and she is ten and in fifth grade. While your child is in school, and while they're playing with friends or having lessons after school, you have time on your hands. A lot of time. I observe many women who seem so busy and stressed, and I just don't get it. I am not busy, unless you call watching Cosby Show reruns while eating popsicles, busy. Some women are actually busy, working inside and outside the home, having multiple children, cleaning their houses, going to the gym, but I am not one of these women.
I am blessed to have what I always wanted and that which is still the most important thing to me: the luxury of staying home with my only child while she's little. I'm crazy about my kid, I treasure the time I have with her, and this is really a once in a lifetime opportunity that is worth every sacrifice. Now that she's ten, though, there's a lot of sitting around waiting for her to need something. Not only waiting for those times when she has a fever, or needs to know whether flatulence is a real word, things that really feel like parenting, but sometimes she needs you to take her to music class, and do her laundry, and make her a grilled cheese. Of course she needs these things, she's ten! That's what I'm here for, and I'm happy to do it. But in the meantime, I read a lot of magazines.
I've been married to this guy, Rob, for 15 years. He's a great dad. After 15 years, I roll my eyes at him a lot, but at his core, he's a good guy. He was a stay-at-home dad for two years or so, and he was REALLY good at it. The house was clean (ish) meals were made, laundry was done, and he had the kid while she was two years old, arguably the hardest period where you have to watch them every single dingle second. This means that I can't ever pretend he doesn't understand what I go through every day, and that he doesn't know what its like. He does, so I just have to suck it up, and admit he was better at this than I am.
I could spend my free time cleaning my house and going to the gym, and, honestly, I should. I am a complete failure at the house keeping part of house wifery. My house is clean enough, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't eat off my kitchen floor, but the dishes are done, and everyone has clean underwear. But the blinds are dusty, and there's that pink mildew between the shower tiles, and the stove is embarrassing. Some of these things would take no time at all if I did them regularly, but I don't, so things go from slightly unclean to disgusting and become lengthy, intimidating chores. When I do scrub the shower tiles, though, it has a huge impact. I show it off when my husband comes home from work, "look at the shower! Isn't it clean? Can you remember a time when it was this clean?" Thank goodness for house guests, that's what I say, I don't even want to think about what my place would look like if it wasn't for wanting to give a false impression to people who see me once a year.
All this, and I have a big mouth and an unreliable filter.
WELCOME TO MY WORLD