Confessions of the reluctant housewife

Though I seem to grumble about it quite often here are a few things I love about the housewife thing:

1. A fully stocked fridge. You know, where the yucky leftovers are gone, the containers are all clean and pristine and ready for leftovers, and there are plenty of options for dinner. Never happened when I had my business.

2. Getting the firsthand dirt when the kids get out of school - 99% complaining, but then there is the occasional best day ever.

3. Nobody runs out of clean undies. Sadly, also not the case when I had the business. Yelling out just wear them again? Yep, it stings a little.

4. Ditto for the clean sheets.

5. I know where everything in my house is. Granted, it is because I spend way to much time here, but then again - you need some tape? 2007 tax records? Easter basket grass?

Confession

You know those discount grocery cards? The ones you cannot shop without, because the price of a bottle of juice goes from like $3.00 to $9.00 without the special card?

I refuse to register for them.

I am not usually the conspiracy theory type, but it makes me crazy to think that some grocery store executive can pull me up in a database and run a report showing that I buy Fig Newmans and baby carrots every week. These days, Big Brother isn't a government hack, instead he works for Cascadian Farms, and he can probably tell if you are a little backed up, because you just bought that extra high fiber cereal again.

But of course, I am a bargainista and I still want the darn discount.

So I pull up to the checkout, ask for the card and the forms, inch Little Guy towards the magazine rack, and then while wrestling a copy of the Star Magazine out of his hands, I say ever so sweetly "He is a real handful today. Can just I bring this back in with me?"

And then I never fill out the form, but I whip out that card every week.

Confession

I can't decide what I like more: a sizable to-do list with half the things crossed off OR a freshly written list with everything jotted neatly in front of me.

One has the advantage of showing that progress has been made.

The other is all about order.

Decisions, decisions.

Confession

A friend of mine who also has two small children recently commented that she didn't know how I found the time to work on my writing.

I told her that I have given up cleaning the toilets.

That isn't true entirely. I always clean the hall bathroom. It is the one the kids use and the one guests will see. But the master bath sometimes gets a little scummy. The fact is, it bugs me a little.

I keep a pretty orderly house. At the end of each day, I like putting things away, wiping down the surfaces, and starting over fresh each morning. I don't leave dirty dishes hanging around in the sink. I don't leave the art supplies scattered in the office. I pick up the random discarded shoes and straighten the couch pillows. I make the bed every damn day, even if it winds up being towards the evening. It's my thing.

But recently I came to the conclusion that I can't possibly keep up with everything and still find time for myself. Not the most earth shattering conclusion, I know. I am almost thirty seven years old and apparently a pretty slow learner.

So I am learning to let go a little and prioritize. Right now, glittery words are more important than sparkling toilets.

Confession

Day three of Hubs being almost flat out from the bug. I want to feel bad for him, I really do. But I sort of have a 48 hour tolerance for this type of thing, which expired last night at 1:30 AM while he was asleep.

Is it weird to be jealous of someone for being sick? Yes? Would it help if I mentioned that I can't remember the last time I laid in bed sick for more than a few hours? That the last time I had the flu and a fever I STILL drove two hours to a trade show to do the spring buy for my business? That up until recently I survived for almost a year on just a few hours of sleep a night?

Don't tell him I said this, but

Please, for the love of God, get better and go back to work already.

Confession

I really don't like brown rice. I have tried really really hard to. My friends who are into such things extol the rich nutty flavor. I have prepared it several different ways, but I can't get used to the taste. I know it is healthy and so much better for me. But, yuck.

What I do love is sticky white rice. I know it is the equivalent of eating a loaf of gummy white bread, which I would never do in a million years. After switching to wheat bread years back, most white bread is just gross. But white rice, yum.

Anyway, I try to make myself feel better by buying organic white rice and slathering it with organic butter.

Confession

In high school, a boyfriend of mine wrote me a song and had his friend sing and record it. The lyrics were cringe worthy and the friend was a terrible singer. The recording was made on a tape recorder and I'm pretty sure I was slightly embarassed for both of them. He recorded a bunch of other songs from the radio along with it so I listened to the tape anyway.

But there must be something about a song with your own name in it, because every once in a while, I catch myself singing it in my head.

Confession

Just before my husband gets home from a business trip, I hurry around the house straightening up and then put on some makeup!

How very 50's housewife of me...

Confession

Sometimes I use the address labels sent from St. Jude and don't send a donation.