Monday, May 21, 2012

Mrs. Potts: Today's Modern Homemaker...NOT!

Why do I feel guilty about doing things I want to do?  I mean seriously?  There are a lot of us homemaker parents/partners in the world who feel ashamed when we take a day off, scratch that, even a few hours to do what we want to do.  I think a survey should be taken here to find out why we feel so damned awful about it.

I personally will answer for myself.  I feel like a schmuck.  You see, my husband is wonderful.  He gets up and he hates it (who wouldn't), to a job he's not particularly enamoured with (if his boss reads my blogs, ignore this comment or please give him a raise), and spends his day in front of a dull computer screen or on the phone listening to idiots complain about sitting in front of dull computer screens. When I did this stuff, I hated it too (but I simply ADORED my co-workers - well, most of them anyway).

Now, there are some people who would say that since I'm the stay-at-home half of the relationship, I should have a spotless house, dinner on the table, finances in order, clean, healthy, happy, non-crazy rug rats, an organized schedule, and a libido ready to match Casanova's (my young readers are thinking, "Who'z dat and when can I get me sum?").  I do my best and have even been known to attempt the Betty Crocker, " me in the bedroom after supper, 'cause I'm wearing nothing but my apron..." deal.  On a regular basis; however, I have dinner almost made, the house is kind of picked up, I'm exhausted from running around town from various appointments or sorting out the boys' various autism issues, and the Casanova deal...(I'm grinning as I type this), there's always room for that in my life.  Hmm...perhaps that's why my man sticks around?

I mentioned a moment ago that my husband, Eric is wonderful.  Yes, he is special in that he works hard to support his family but he also understands that my work load shouldn't extend beyond the time he spends at the office.  When he comes home to my amazing meal of Hamburger Helper topped with a ridiculous amount of pre-bagged, store bought shredded cheese and a side of fattening, butter laden, artery clogging garlic bread he actually says, "That smells good."  After dinner, he takes over.  My solo parenting day is officially over and what's nicer, no more housework for me.  Eric does the dinner dishes and oversees school lunches for the next day (deep sigh of relief).

When the dishes are done and lunches are taken care of, my husband and I are a team in all things "home" related.  This includes weekend work as well.  If we're having a party and I, for some reason or another, couldn't get the housework done during the week, everyone pitches in - no bitching, complaining, or pointing fingers at mom allowed.

So, let me reiterate, do I have the right to feel guilty when I want to stretch my body out in the sunshine and take a nap at 3:00 in the afternoon?  Today, I think not.  Sorry Eric, my schmuckdom is seriously overtaking me...