I haven’t always been a housewife. I used to have interests like books and music (indie!). I used to be able to hold conversations with other adults. Maybe I was even funny. I never used to care about accumulating dust or balanced meals. The other day I washed my front door…with a toothbrush.
This new role change has been a drastic one. Coinciding with our first baby, we started a new business as well. I quickly found myself, for obvious reasons, as the primary caregiver (and all that stuff you read when you’re in first year of Intro Psychology and you say to yourself, “that’ll never be me”) and my husband as the primary breadwinner. As a couple, we had meals together. We watched movies together. We went to cafes together. We went to concerts together. We really did everything together. Not so suddenly, I was relegated to domestic duties while he remained responsible outside the home (it kind of sounds like something I might have read sometime in first year Psych).
His role really didn’t change with the addition of a new baby to our little unit. Maybe he felt more responsible in that way cave dwelling sort of way – must bring home BIGGER saber toothed tiger – but he’s still free to eat meals out, watch a movie, go to a cafe, or enjoy a concert. Don’t get me wrong – he works incredibly hard and goes above and beyond his provider role. Admittedly, I am a bit of a cagey housewife considering my lack of outlets so I find it difficult to accept his ability to continue on with life while mine has come to an abrupt halt. I love my time with Zizi and fully recognize that this time is a privilege and would not be possible without him bringing home all that bacon (or pizza as the case may be). Still, it can be difficult to completely surrender yourself and to do it happily day in and day out. And to accept your new interests – dirty windows, drying laundry, dishes, organizing socks, swatting flies, mopping floors and bath tub rings. Just to name a few.