As I came down the stairs this morning I realized that my life is caught in some never-ending cycle that my friend, Shelley, likes to call Groundhog Day. It's the same thing everyday-wake up, stumble to the bathroom, look in the mirror to realize that a truck must have run over my face during the night (make mental note to try and take better care of myself and soon before it's too late!), then stumble down the hallway to change yet another dirty diaper, make coffee, make breakfast, start a load of laundry, unload dishwasher, fight about what the kids will or won't eat today and the day continues just like every one before it has for at least the last eight years. Suddenly I realize, how in the hell did I get here?
I remember a time soon after getting married and certainly before the kiddos came along, that the idea of being the happy little homemaker and being able to stay home and take care of my children seemed like the dream job. I had had some great jobs in the past, but I (and many others like me) truly felt that getting to stay at home meant that we had finally "arrived". I mean who wouldn't want to be at home baking cookies while our dear husbands went out to their jobs making all the money and taking care of us while we create the perfect home with the perfect children?
With this idea in mind, I remember more than once having the conversation with my husband, Barry, that if I could only quit my job and stay home once we had children, that I would gladly take care of EVERYTHING as far as the house was concerned. I would be more than happy to be responsible for all things cooking, cleaning and child-rearing. It was a deal I was willing to make because it had to be more fun to hang out at home than to get up every morning and have to get dressed and have deadlines and be working for someone else right?
What the hell was I thinking?? (the question I ask myself on a regular basis!)
Now before anyone decides to send me hate mail because you think I'm too harsh on my kids, husband, or the job of staying at home, just hear me out and then decide if I should be punished!
I had no idea what I was getting myself into! No one has ever accused me of being a great housekeeper. Heck I'm perfectly content if my house is just sort of tidy, but I would never say it's really all that "clean". I have no problem dumping the clean laundry on the bed in the guest room or on the extra sofa and just fishing out the things you need when you need them. If I can close a door and just not be able to see the mess, then to me the mess does not exist. (It's called denial and I highly recommend it!)
Unfortunately for me, my husband does not subscribe to the same philosophy. When he was growing up, evidently his mother was queen of all homemakers and there was never a thing out of place, a moment of waiting for a meal or piece of clothing that wasn't ironed. (Ironing happens to be one of her favorite pass times while I on the other hand iron only a couple of times a year and have a closet full of clothes that haven't been worn in years because they need to be ironed!) Now Barry is by NO MEANS a clean freak and will walk around a mess for a while himself and he really will wait until the mess becomes too much to handle before he will say something. But my problem is, if bothers you that the room is such a mess, why don't YOU do something about it??
Here is the spot where my big mouth and grand ideas came back to bite me in the butt! For several years his favorite response was to remind me of the deal that we made so many years ago, ya know it's the one where I sold my soul for the chance to "quit working" in exchange for taking care of the house/children. So many times I have heard, "you know Chas, our deal was that I provide for us and you take care of everything else. I get up early every morning and go off to work to give our family everything that we have and at least if you get tired you can lie down and take a nap if you want to." Would you like to know the number of naps that I have taken over the years? I think I can count them on one hand (if you don't count the time about 5 years back when a nasty case of depression left me pretty useless for the better part of the year.) But that aside, I have not seen so much of this "free time" that I believed was part of the mommy package.
Now granted, I do spend my fair share of time on the phone with my girlfriends and since facebook came along, even more time at my computer, but at least when I'm on the phone I'm doing at least three other things at the same time. (See above for list of things get repeated each and every day.) What I really want is the "free time" to be truly "free". Just because I'm not cooking or cleaning at the moment doesn't mean some little person doesn't need something or that I get any personal time and/or space. It only means that I am choosing to let a mess or chore go for a few minutes while I do something useless (i.e., facebook).
I am proud of the fact that my children are awesome and my husband is pretty happy on most occasions. I even like to think that maybe, just maybe, I am responsible for a part of it. But lately, it just hasn't seemed like quite enough for me personally. Don't get me wrong. I love my family and they are the best thing that has happened to me. These days I just find myself thinking, is this as good as it gets? Did the most exciting time of my life (that doesn't revolve around children) already happen to me and I was too busy wishing for something else to realize it? Have I spent too much time wishing I had a hobby or interest in something just for me and not enough time finding out what it might be?
These are the questions that plague my mind these days and I am vowing to myself to actually do something about. Considering the fact that said husband is a bull-headed defense attorney, I don't see much wiggle room in the fateful deal with the devil that I agreed to about 12 years ago. I just have to be thankful for all of the things he does do around the house to help me out these days especially since baby #2 came along.
I'll keep you posted on my quest to find something that strikes my fancy. Until then, tomorrow will be Groundhog Day at the McWhirter house...
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