First off, let me state that I am not the Martha Stewart type. Anyone who came into my house would know this immediately. I'm pretty sure that Martha would frown on the Toys R Us inspired land mines that make walking in my house an adventure in physics (or at least an exercise in finding creative ways to not swear in front of children). Neither am I a June Cleaver. I do not have a cup of coffee and fresh orange juice ready for my husband to sip as he gazes at the newspaper before going to work while I clean an already pristine kitchen while wearing pearls. In fact, if I were primped and perfect before noon my husband would probably ask me where I was going.
I am a housewife, though. I have three kids and we live in the suburbs with a slightly psychotic cat. I didn't set out in life to become a housewife. If I'd been asked what I thought of housewives when I was in my crazy pre-baby days I'd probably have laughed as I made bad jokes about minivans and soccer moms. Now I drive a minivan and my 5 year old is absolutely insane about learning to play hockey. So I suppose I'll be a hockey mom one of these days.
Even though I may not be a Martha or June, I have found myself going back to the skills that my grandmother taught me as a little girl. She always said "One day you'll have your own house, so you'll need to know this." As a modern girl growing up in the 80's I thought that learning how to sew and knit and bake bread and clean anything with vinegar was at pretty useless and archaic. Being a good girl who loved her grandma I didn't say that, though. Now, with Grandma gone and three little ones in a small house with an even smaller budget I find myself thanking her every day. In this, I find myself having a domestic renaissance - I'm relearning the old arts of running a household on a budget, of raising children who have an actual childhood, and finding satisfaction in what I'm creating instead of what I'm earning.
Hi, hopped over from your comment on my blog. Loved this post! I can totally relate, as I'm sure so many mothers can.
ReplyDeleteThe day I took the pregnancy test confirming the impending arrival of our first child, on the carseat underneath the drug store bag was the envelope containing my LSAT application. I remember looking over at it as I threw the test on top of it and thinking how appropriate that whole set up/image was, and how completely my life was about to change. But more than eight years later, I don't want to be anywhere else.
Can't wait to read more about your rebirth :)