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I worked almost my entire adult life.  I took a small break when I had my first daughter, but still worked part time, and after we had our second daughter, who had some very major medical problems, I could not go back to work until she was three.  We needed the money, but our youngest daughter had a Tracheostomy tube and a feeding tube and it wasn’t until she was about three and stabilized, that I could find anyone willing to watch her.  Luckily, I had a great boss that allowed me very flexible hours and I was close enough to work to be able to run and feed her when needed. Those were hectic times, but as all mothers know, you do what you gotta do.

 

When we moved to Pennsylvania, I drove an hour one way to work and after gas and expenses, we figured I was clearing enough for a McDonald’s Happy Meal and we made the decision for me not to work.  My family was so incredibly supportive and I have since retained the title, “Stay at Home,” by my oldest daughter, who decided this name was more appropriate than “Stay at Home Mom,” since my children were grown.  Nothing makes her smile more than to introduce me to someone and say, “This is my mom! She is a stay at home.”  I usually respond back, “So nice to meet you.  I wished my daughter had stayed at home.”  My husband, on the other hand, was ecstatic.  He grew up watching Andy Griffith and Leave it to Beaver and he kept saying he was going to be the king of the castle.  I guess he also thought I might morph into Aunt Bea in the kitchen, June Cleaver with the housework, and Ginger Grant in the bedroom.  Unfortunately, what he got was Ginger in the kitchen, June Cleaver with a bad attitude and OCD tendencies, and Aunt Bea in the bedroom.

In the beginning, it felt so weird not to leave the house for a job, although, I was never bored and kept busy all day.  I felt guilty for not going to a job, so I worked hard to earn my keep.   Along with everything I had always done, I packed my husband’s lunch, tried to make a good dinner every night, and even ironed his shirts.  Thank goodness I didn’t have to spit shine his shoes, although there were days when he came home and said something about being the king that I did want to spit and I guess it would have been fine if some landed on his shoes.   Initially, I was the perfect wife, but somewhere along the line, it has all gone bad. It started with the ironing.  I tried to keep it up each day, but after a while, I stopped ironing the back of the shirts figuring he would never notice.  That wasn’t the only shortcut I made. Since he insisted on long sleeve shirts, but rolled up his sleeves every single day, I just sometimes left the sleeves rolled up when I laundered them to save us both some time. I figured as long as no one was checking my work and putting an “ironed by someone who has lost interest” inspection tag on the shirt, he wouldn’t know.   Pretty soon, I don’t know if some tattletale told him or he got a glimpse of himself in a mirror and was astounded he had been going to work looking like a Shar Pei dog from the back side, but one day he mentioned he was going to order some wash and wear uniforms.  I felt no shame, but just wondered what took him so long.  Problem solved.

Next, was that darn packing of his lunch. Of all the jobs I did, that is the job I hated the most.  I hated it when the kids were little and was probably the only mom pushing those school lunches on their kids.  As they got older and wiser, it wasn’t unheard of for one of them to say, “Mom, the lunches stink. Who knows what we are even putting into our bodies?”  Frankly, I can’t stand smart kids and I tried everything to reason with them, even telling them once an outright lie, since my mom packed my lunch religiously when I was in school, but these were desperate times.  “I bought a school lunch every day of my life and look how I turned out,” I told them, only to have my oldest say, “Mom, that is like having Ozzy Osbourne tell his kids that drugs make you smarter and help with your enunciation skills.”  I hated that smart ass stage because I always started laughing, which seemed to diminish my credibility as a disciplinarian.   

When family members would ask me what I wanted for my birthday or Christmas, I always said, “just pack dad’s lunch for one week or this could be the last birthday or holiday we spend together.”  Inwardly, I got ticked when I opened another present because it was never a packed lunch for their dad and it was clear by their responses, no one was taking me seriously. In fact, when I said, “didn’t you hear me say I might run away if I had to pack that lunch one more time?” they said that was why their dad made them promise not to do it for me. Many nights, I packed his lunch wearing my bathrobe and would sidle up to him, extend a leg, and say, “is there anything I can do to get out of packing your lunch?” only to have him say, “perhaps you could shave your legs.”  

Once, I even labeled his bag, “If you are reading this, please call 911. I am being held against my will by a tyrant that forces me to pack his stupid lunch.”  When he got home from work, all he said was, “FYI: I eat alone at my desk and the 911 operator said to tell you they are looking into getting you into a safe house as soon as one for idiots opens up.”  The good news is my daughter is trying to lose weight and now packs her own lunch every day and started asking me if I wanted her to go ahead and pack her dad’s lunch, too.  I guess as her mother I could have told her the age-old secret that once you start doing something; it becomes your job for life, but for now, that will be my little secret. I figure that should do it and another problem solved.

 

Making the morning coffee was another area I knew we were going to have to change for this homemaker thing to work, especially when my husband went out and bought the mother of all coffee makers.  I have already covered most of my problems with this coffee maker in a previous blog, but I will say I considered this appliance to be my arch nemesis in the kitchen and that is saying a great deal.  It was very time-consuming every morning and I was unable to get the lid off the carafe on my own without taking steroids.  It also involved a large mess every morning as my husband filled his travel mug each morning at one counter, decided the best way to get the sugar into the mug was to go to a different area and fill a teaspoon with a tablespoon of sugar, walk all around the kitchen, and hope for the best, and then take the mug to another counter to fill it with his half and half.  Each morning as the coffee ran out all over the counter and onto the floor as he tried to get the lid on his over full travel cup, it seemed just as shocking to him as the day before that the extra coffee in the cup had to go somewhere.   I can only thank my lucky stars that the man prefers showers to baths or he would be conducting his own “Displacement of Water” experiment daily. I always secretly felt that the last thought in his head as he left for work each day with his dripping coffee cup and his work shoes slipping and sliding in the liquid trail all over the kitchen floor was, “It’s good to be king!”  Luckily, I got a Keurig coffee maker and made him a little coffee center, and things have gotten a little better.  Problem solved.

The number one area, however, I differ the most from June Cleaver is, I bet she was a great cook.  She probably spent half her day going over recipes, deciding on her menu, and then making the perfect dinner for her Ward.  I spend a great deal of time, too, on my meals each day, but mostly trying to figure out how to get out of making one, so we can go out to dinner.  When I first stayed home, I really did try hard, and would greet my husband with, “I have prepared some of the finest cuisine in all the world for your dining pleasure.”   I quickly became known for a couple of my signature dishes such as my Baked Chicken, or as I have heard it called, “Not your Crispy Chicken again?” or “Why is there cardboard on my dinner plate?”   

It didn’t take me long to realize I was overselling my meals, so now I greet him with, “I just prepared an Italian dish I like to call Crappola al Crockpotta,” or “how about a Lean Cuisine and a salad?” This way, he knows going in what he is getting and some times; I get a wonderful meal out instead. The other day, my daughter was leafing through a magazine and started looking at some recipes.  She showed one or two to me with a hopeful look in her eye and I finally said, “Honey, do I look like Rachael Ray?" and then I heard the words I have been longing to hear come out of her mouth, “No, mom, I might try cooking some of the meals.”  All I could think was that my years of indifference and lack of trying have finally paid off.  I think I just solved another problem.  

 

What has happened to me? Where is the pride I used to feel in a well-run household? I used to come home from work and start vacuuming before I even took off my coat.  Whenever my mom stayed at our house, she always called me a “whirling dervish,” and said I didn’t sit still for one minute.  Now, I guess she thinks I am “whirled out” because she got a little testy on her last visit when she asked what we were having for dinner and I got mad and said, “for god sakes woman, I just made your breakfast.  What do you want from me?” and she pointed out that all I did for breakfast was hand her a box of Cheerios.  No one understands the pressure I am under to keep this house running like a well oiled machine and I have tried explaining to all of them that I have decided to pace myself so I don’t burn out and become an empty shell of a woman.  You should hear the laughter that comment generated and the last time I said it, one of them said, “too late.” 

Hopefully, I regain my mojo before I get fired from this job.  Usually, I don’t pass the buck, but I think part of the blame falls on Fudge and Vern.  There are just so many things I would rather be doing with them and I can find a million excuses to avoid the laundry or the housework so I can walk them at the park.  I also blame DoodleKisses and Adina, there I said it, because I would get so much more done without worrying what is happening on DoodleKisses.  I know just the other day my husband came home from work and I was on the computer and said, “I just finished making your dinner, but now I am following a discussion about Tara’s titer test, so can you help yourself,” and he said, “send me the link, because I always like to read a good discussion about titers.” 

I am pretty sure we were not talking about the same thing, but no matter, if I can get him hooked on DoodleKisses, he might have less time to be thinking about un-ironed shirts, bad attitudes, and less than stellar meals.  I think I just solved a whole lot of problems.

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Comment by Lucy & AnnaBelle's Mom on April 7, 2012 at 4:43am

Really loved this blog.  Brought back lots of memories.  In 1997 we moved to Orlando.  The subdivision that we bought in was just being built.  For the first time in our married lives we ended up being one of the older couples in our neighborhood (We were in our 40's).  The community was filled with young couples having their 1st kids.  It was very interesting that it seemed all the Moms were opting to be Stay At Home Moms.  They were teachers and corporate workers that just gave it up and stayed home.  The Orlando Sentinel even did a story on our little subdivision.  We lived in a subdivision within a subdivision.  Our little Subdivision was maybe 80 homes.  In the story they profiled a couple of the Moms and their families and talked about the trend to Stay At Home Moms and even called us a "Leave It To Beaver" neighborhood.  It was pretty funny. 

Comment by Maryann,Roo and Tigger on April 7, 2012 at 12:09am

Laurie - many many thanks for expressing my attitude exactly, but with much more eloquence and humor.

Clearly though you have not had as much time as I to develop reasons I can no longer be perfect.  My best reason is that at some point my DH will get to retire, I will not.  If I retire it will be because of severe infirmity either mental or physical.  This will be very unpleasant for everyone, especially me.  Therefore it is clear that I must take my retirement in chunks everyday.  It is only fair and will certainly have the side effect of making me much enjoyable company for longer, since if I were to return to perfection in every area, I would immediately become cranky and wear out sooner - back to the unpleasantness of infirmity.

In addition, in a stroke of pure genius, and I certainly do not intend to offend anyone, our parish priest suggested that for Lent, instead of giving up sweets we give up a bad habit.  I gave up guilt.  It is not a productive habit and causes me to - yes - return to the unpleasant company scenario.  Since I sincerely gave up guilt with good intentions for Lent, I am finding it easier and easier to feel less guilt.  Amazing. 

I offer these words of wisdom ideas to you only as a more experienced "stay at home".  I have had nearly 40 years to slide from perfect to ..... mellow.  Seriously, the stupidest thing I ever did was learn to cook.  All of my friends who can barely pour cereal eat out all the time.  I have a friend who entertains large housefuls of guests nearly evey weekend.  Her big job is to put the wine glasses in the dishwasher in the morning.  She is by her own word a terrible cook, so all her guests take turns cooking, and yet she manages to look busy enough that they also clean up the kitchen.  Now you and I could really learn something from her.     

 

 

Comment by Lisa, Daisy & Dexter on April 6, 2012 at 10:50pm

Once again laughed all the way through, I can't wait to retire. Gotta tell you I know what I will be doing, not any of the things I do now. I think I will need lessons on the fine art of staying home.

Still make lunches, still make dinner, still do the housework on the weekends, still do the laundry, still iron clothes, still work. WHAT an I doing wrong here? It's not that I enjoy these things but if I don't do it I have mad guilt. And let me tell you, if I don't do it DH will not pick up the slack. This evening I called DH to tell him no cooking tonight we will be going out guess who had to decide where, that's right me! I mean I can't even get a break from thinking about what's for dinner.

When we got Daisy I told him he would be doing the walking in the morning because I won't have time...fortunately he does that. Better stop now, starting to feel bitter LOL.

Comment by Nancy, Ned, Clancy, and Charlie on April 6, 2012 at 9:38pm

 I was very smart at the beginning of our marriage and because I worked and my DH was in school, he cooked the meals and once he got the job, he owned it for life.  Now he keeps working his magic cuz he retired and we go out to eat a lot so he doesn't have to cook.  I used to keep our house immaculately clean but I retired and now no one does it - I blame Adina and dk also!

Comment by Laurie, Fudge, and Vern on April 6, 2012 at 6:46pm

Lynda, You have a very nice yard and garden. I love the bushes in the last shot. Sounds like you have a great husband :) Thank you!

Traci, The Masters=Big Yawn...LOL!!! Laundry is the one thing I don't mind doing :) Thank you!!

Jane, Awwww....thank you for the nice comment. Your DH does sound like a great guy!! I am not great at delegating when it comes to my washer and dryer.  I need to get smarter...LOL!!  I told my DH to read this blog and I am sure the part about trying to be June Cleaver will make him laugh the most :)

Carol. LOL about the lunches. Packing lunches and homework is, in my opinion, the curse of parenthood. How funny your daughter wanted to be "nothing, just like you."  Kids do make us laugh, even at our expense. LOL

Comment by Lynda Kamrath on April 6, 2012 at 6:36pm

Love it, love it, LOVE IT!  And I can relate!  My working days are over (unless I want to work or volunteer in some favorite classroom) and I am a stay-at-home (occasionally) housewife.  However, when my husband retired five years before I did, I told him that would be fine if he would do the three C's - those being cooking. cleaning, and construction.  Well the construction is done but the house does require a lot of maintenance, so now he does cooking, cleaning and gardening, etc.  I do doodles, shopping, and errands (picking up this and that).  Ahhh, life is good.  Got the garden in last week. 

 Well......you get the idea.

Comment by Traci -Bexter & Maggie on April 6, 2012 at 5:10pm

I seriously laughed out loud at this one (as usual)!  My DH is actually watching the stupid Master's golf tournament in the other room,and he actually asked me if I was all right!  I told him that I'm just reading another one of Laurie's blogs.  He just rolls his eyes!  Yes...we should all blame Doodlekisses and Adina for our lack of productivity at home!  You're on to something!  I'm willing to blame anyone to get out of laundry!

Comment by Jane, Guinness and Murphy on April 6, 2012 at 4:50pm

This sure is another great one, Laurie!  Other than a couple of years when our daughters were babies, I always worked too.  I was never much of a fan of the "June Cleaver" stuff, and as long as I worked I didn't have to do most of it.  It was a win/win for me.  Also because I worked, my DH felt the need to pick up half of the "house work"....well actually I think I told him that he should feel this way and he bought it.  He was the "lunch packer".  That actually started during one of my pregnancies when looking at sandwich meat at that hour of the morning sent me racing to the bathroom...DH could not stand the thought of that, and he took over that job.  Then he owned it for life.  I hated cleaning so much that I actually worked an extra few years to be sure that I had saved enough before retirement to be sure that I could continue to have the cleaning service until I die. When it comes to laundry and ironing we have a philosophy around here...you wear it you wash it (and iron it too).  So I do my laundry and DH does his.  I convinced him that he should also do the towels and linens too...not too sure how that happened, but I'm not asking any questions.  I know I'm lucky.  I never pretended to be "June" and so DH never expected it.  I was just thinking that we're all so lucky that YOU aren't a June Cleaver.  If you were, you'd probably be baking or cleaning instead of creating these blogs that make our days brighter.

Comment by Karen, Jasper and Jackdoodle on April 6, 2012 at 3:41pm

Adina, that was classic...comparing cooking to cleaning toilets. Perfect!

Comment by Carol and Banjo on April 6, 2012 at 3:33pm

Laurie I'm thrilled to know that I'm not the only June Cleaver failure.   I hated making lunches and I'm embarassed to admit that I told the kids if you don't want to buy school lunches then you can make them yourselves!  OMD....I can't believe I'm even admitting this on the World Wide Web!    I was a Stay At Home....one day I asked my darling, sweet 3 year old daughter what she wanted to be when she grew up and she replied..."Nothing, just like you Mommy!".

 

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