Desperate Housewives

Housewives are sometimes mistaken for lazy women who simply don't want to "work." If you are a housewife, then you don't hold a job. Your job is to stay home and watch soap operas. Right? You aren't out there earning your keep and contributing to society. And you must have TONS of time on your hands. You simply sweep a broom and load the dishwasher.

Housewives are becoming extinct because of this stereotypical impression society has placed upon them. Being a housewife is no longer a title held in pride; a position known to be very productive. You are no longer considered to be doing your part, or even ENOUGH, for your family if "all you do" is stay home all day....letting your husband do all the "work."

I'd like to dispel this injuring thought process. Being a housewife is one of the toughest, most noble positions in the history of time. Being a housewife is an honor and should be taken very seriously. It's not glamorous. It's not easy. It's not even fun some of the time. But it's worthy.

To answer that age-old question, "Do you work, or do you stay home?".....

If you see me on Sunday morning at church, you might noticed the slight smell of house-cleaning-spray I surely still have all about me. And, if my dress allows, you'll notice red, sore knees. Saturdays, I try to clean our floors. I also try to wash our HUGE dog. My whole body gets doused in a lot of different soaps and solvents and it takes a good 24 hours for it to finally disappear.


If you see me on Monday, you might notice my lack of motivation. It's not because it's Monday. I love Mondays. They are like a new page in a journal or the first day all the birds come back for Spring. New. Fresh. Mondays have an air of, "Okay, forget last week; we can do it RIGHT this week!" But since Sundays are so peaceful and restful, it takes my half-closed eyes and lazy smile a good 24 hours to perk back up.


If you see me on Tuesday, you will surely notice the smell of fabric softener and also my chipped, broken fingernails. Monday's the big laundry day. I catch up on anything that needs folding and put away; I wash anything that's "important" for upcoming events; I make sure everyone has the essentials for the week, etc... Material is very hard on fingernails. It softens them and softens them until, by the end of the day, they are cracking and breaking. It takes a good 24 hours for them to thicken and strengthen back up.


If you see me on Wednesday, you'll no-doubt notice I'm a little hunched over. Tuesday's clean-the-bathrooms day. My back inevitably goes out every time I scrub the bathtub. It's just part of the deal. It takes a good 24 hours for it to work the kinks out and straighten back up.


If you see me on Thursday, you'll see a smile on my face and might also notice my slightly blue fingernails. Wednesday is clean-the-kitchen day. I love a sparkling kitchen. I also use a Brillo pad that oozes blue cleaner. The pads do wonders on my cabinets and sink. But it takes a good 24 hours for me to get it all out from under my nails.

If you see me on Friday, you will see tiredness in my eyes and may notice that I favor my right arm slightly. Thursdays, I clean the living room and den. This involves three ceiling fans, lots of vacuuming, and moving the furniture around to get every little dust bunny. Being right-handed, I use my right arm to muscle the big stuff and lug the vacuum cleaner. It takes a good 24 hours to work out the soreness.

If you see me on Saturday, I will be winding down from a busy week. I may not carry any outward signs of busyness on Saturday, but there's a new inner-peace. Friday's clean the bedroom day. I always sleep better in a clean bedroom. It will take no less than 24 hours for it to need another straightening, but for that 24 hours, I am at peace.

I love being a housewife and I take that job-title very seriously. There are more times than I'd like to count when I've had to take "time off" of work for sickness, trips, school events, etc... Playing catch-up is stressful. I'm tired every day and EXHAUSTED every night. I seem always to miss washing someone's favorite something. The rooms I so lovingly scrub are always in need of a desperate scrubbing again before their day arrives in the week. But I love it. I thank God I'm a woman and that He allows me the responsibility of being a housewife. What an honor. What a joy!

Joy in All Things

Our little family has decided to study the fruits of the Spirit very slowly and closely. We're going in order. April we studied Love and May we're studying Joy. I told the children this morning as we were getting ready for our day that we need to find a way to see Joy in every situation!

Soon after that instruction, Maggie turned to me and said, "Mama, is my neck red? Because it itches!" Red? Good grief, it was a rash from chin to bellybutton. I told her we'd talk to her school nurse and see if there was anything she could tell us about recent activities at school, etc.

The dog had gotten out of the yard and wouldn't come when the kids called. We were pretty close to being on time but any doggy shenanigans would put us behind. I told the kids to go in the house and finish getting ready while I got the dog in. The stupid dog.

She'd sit very still until I got to her and then she'd leap in the air and run to another yard. We did this way too long, four yards worth, and I must admit I was getting way past angry. Stupid, stupid dog!! I was dressed, wearing nice shoes, hair up, pearl necklace on, and I was treading through muddy yards yelling at a dog. Joy.

I finally gave up and walked into the house. I looked down as I was closing the door and she was right behind me. She just sweetly followed me in like everything was fine. ARGH!

The kids had been watching the commotion from the window instead of getting ready. I had to rush to get shoes on kids, backpacks, jackets, and shoo everyone out the door.

The school nurse said I should take Maggie to the doctor; she was already late for school and it would be fine if she just went ahead and missed today. So, I took the boys to school, called the doctor, and just drove right over to be worked in. Allergies. Something topical, bla bla bla.

So, she felt fine and I could've sent her to school anyway, but here I had a doctor's note saying she was excused for how ever long it took to get rid of the rash, if she chose to stay home during the rash.

I had to go buy milk, get her medicine (which cost way more than we'd budgeted for the month's medicine), and also had to go to the library to return books. I didn't expect to have an eight-year-old in tow as I ran my errands.

Joy.

I heard the word in my head as clear as if it had been spoken aloud. Hadn't I been praying for more opportunities to spend time with Maggie? The boys demand so much attention that I don't often have any time to give Maggie other than, "Take a bath," "clean your room," "do your homework," etc...

Joy, indeed! We took our time at the store and even more time at the library. We laughed like schoolgirls (well, she IS a schoolgirl) and snacked mid-morning (how very rebellious of us!).

We got Maisy (the stupid dog) a toy, in hopes of luring her to the door next time she got out of the yard. It has worked so far!!

What a day of joy this has already been...and it's not even noon!

I Am What I Read

I wish I could say that I'm of strong enough character to remain true to myself no matter what. However...I am what I read. Not only that, plots are like a drug to me. And I'm only just realizing this. Let me explain.

When I read the Joann Fluke mysteries, I bake. A lot. The main character in her books is a fun-loving woman who runs a bakery. There are recipes included between chapters and I find myself humming away in the kitchen during most afternoons after having read a few pages of Fluke's new Lake Eden mishaps. I only recently noticed this. I find myself motivated to try new cookies, pastries, etc...and I'm usually in a sunny disposition.

When I read Barbara Colley's mysteries, I clean. A lot. The main character in her books is a no-nonsense maid who's pulled herself up from tragedy, as a single mom, and now owns her own housecleaning business. She is frugal and efficient. She is very self-disciplined and finds a way to serve those around her by using her talents with rubber gloves and a mop. After just a few chapters of Colley's book, I find myself placing my feet firmly on the ground early in the mornings and having a load of laundry and a load of dishes both started before sitting down to my morning cup of energy. I only recently noticed this. I am motivated to get all the housework done without distraction and take pride in my work! I am often exhausted by the end of the day, but with an immense self-satisfaction.

When I read Carol O'Connel's mysteries, I am dark. Excessively. The main character in her books is a cynical female cop who was once a street-orphan and has endured countless heart-tearing tragedies. She trusts no one and is in pursuit of her own gratifying justice, which usually involves the huge gun she carries. When enjoying these books, I find myself seeing the darkness in most situations. I become cynical and sarcastic and often become cold and calculating toward my daily routine, and anyone involved in my daily routine. I only recently noticed this. I am often motivated to stick my nose in other people's business to offer my own negative opinions and am disgruntled when my opinions aren't taken to heart.

When I read Alexander McCall Smith's mysteries, I am always upbeat. The main character in his books is a "traditionally built" African woman who believes in herself when no one else does. She is independent and sees the very best in people. She longs to serve others and is very wise when dealing with the problems of those around her. When engrossed in these pages, I find myself seeing the truth behind people's selfish actions and love them through whatever struggles they are going through. I don't feel the need to burden anyone near me. I am confident and ready to take on the world...with kindness, instead of vengeance. I only recently noticed this. I seem to be self-sufficient and very strong in my character.

You get the idea. I could go on, but...again... You get the idea.

So, can you imagine what happens when I read God's word? I bet you can. The main character in this book is a supernatural being beyond anyone you or I could imagine. He is love; He is light; He is all-knowing; He is enough. When I read His Word daily, I find myself motivated to give; to love; to live right; to smile. I only recently noticed this. I find meaning and purpose and fulfillment and am not swayed in my knowledge and faith in Him. He is everything. And I long to simply live in His light.

It's important that I am careful what I read. Very important. Perhaps I'm the only one who has this weird quirk. But I do. And, because I do, I must make sure I'm reading more Bible than anything else in order to balance the reality of who I am (and WHOSE I am) with that of fiction.