A couple of decades (plus a few years) ago I’d never have imagined myself as a housewife. When my children were young I’d have loved to have been able to stay at home with them for at least their first year of life. To be able to watch them laugh out loud the first time, say their first word, roll over, crawl, take their fist step and walk–all of those wonderful first time things that working mothers (and fathers) often miss. But It wasn’t feasible. I did manage to stay at home with my second child for the first year (my ex husband was in the military and we had to move to another state during her first year so it took some time for me to find a job), but as soon as I found a job I had to go back to work.
If I’d had it my way, I wouldn’t have gone back to work I’d have gone to college while they were young and in school, but I didn’t. Instead I was busy working. Then I became a single parent and staying at home with them wasn’t remotely an option. But now they’re grown. I’m remarried, still a newlywed actually, and I am a housewife. I dislike that word. I like the two words individually, but not the combination of them. I’ve always been independent. I’ve taken care of others. I’ve worked and gone to school and taken care of my children. But now I’m dependent and I don’t like it.
I feel as if I am a burden. That I’m not carrying my own weight. I feel this dependence on my husband for money that just sometimes feels a bit suffocating. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we had extra money and I knew that my staying at home/not working wasn’t creating more problems, but if I worked we’d have more income. As it is, I cannot go to work because of the pain and the health problems (damn those uterine fibroids) so it just leaves me feeling even more helpless and dependent.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I were in school. At least school is a purpose, and then by the time I finished school I’d have a job and be making money. Money that could help pay the bills, money that could help fix the house and the car, money that could help pay for health insurance and doctor bills.
I don’t like asking for money. I don’t like having to ask for money. I’ve always had my own money. So having to ask for money so I can get cleaning products from the grocery store, or because I’d like to go get a book, or because I need to put gas in the car or put minutes on my phone, or just so I can go to lunch with a friend or maybe pick up Mr. Rockstar a cute little card or gift…well it bugs the complete and utter shit out of me. I realize that while things are tough financially we have to be careful about what we spend money on, but if I was working things wouldn’t be as rough. Instead, I feel like one of those housewives from the 40’s or 50’s and that I should be at home cleaning, and cooking, and decorating, and in an apron and by the time he gets home I should have a spotless house, a fabulous dinner cooked, and I should look amazing.
Ironically, Mr. Rockstar doesn’t expect that from me. He’s so supportive, so nice, so understanding, and so unbelievably sweet that it just makes me feel even worse when I am unable to get shit done, when I’m unable to cook or clean or any of those responsibilities that are MINE since I am a housewife. And if we had the money for me to go to lunch with a friend or to go buy a book or to whatever he’d be more than glad to give me the money. And that is it right there–“give me the money.” I don’t have any money of my own. I am not providing for him, I’m not contributing, I’m not helping but in fact am hindering.
Today is just one of those days when I feel the need to vent. Maybe it’s because it’s Monday. Maybe it’s because there’s a lot on my mind and I have all of this mental energy but my physical body will not cooperate. I’ve tried writing some of my novel but I’m just too distracted. My tooth is friggin’ hurting like a bitch, and I’m in pain elsewhere, and I’m grumpy because of the pain. I refuse to cry over it though the pain is so bad I feel like crying. I wanted to eat earlier because I was hungry but the whole left side of my mouth hurts so badly I just couldn’t bear the thought of chewing anything. So I’ve been drinking coffee–the only thing I am not complaining about.
So I guess I’ll have some cheese and crackers with my WHINE. And maybe I’ll just get off the computer and try to take a much needed nap. After all, if I’m going to be a housewife I might as well enjoy a few of the perks. I’m still in my pj’s, and it’s after four in the afternoon and I’m going to go take a nap. Yeah, my life is peachy.