Time: 8:32 pm, 3 days ago
Setting: Kevin and I are driving home in the car.
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Me: :::sighs suddenly:::: It’s going to take forever to get that house cleaned once the bedroom floor is finished, and I have no desire to do any of it. WHY can’t I just be the person I want to be???
Kevin: ::::::turns the wheel, looks at me out of the corner of his eye whilst driving:::::::::
Me: ….see, the person I WANT to be is inside of me. I have this great picture of who she is. But when I look at my life, I’m totally different than who I think I should be.
Kevin: ::::raises his eyebrow, unsure of where this is going::::::
Me: Well, for one, I hate getting up early. I hate cleaning. I rarely dust. We eat from Little Ceasars, Taco Bell, Subway, and the Dollar Menu at McDonalds far, far too often. The only vegetables I’ve ever grown in my life are probably about to die because I didn’t know how to transplant them properly. We ran out of clean underwear twice last month. And I swear, our stuff sits in the living room at night, breeding, and plotting how to take our lives over. That, and I haven’t touched the laundry in a week, which might lead ot more trips to Kmart to buy you fresh underwear. Why oh why can’t I just take a pill and instantly become the person I have in my mind that I want to be????
Kevin, speaking non-chalantly: Baby, you already do a lot. Plus, you are with our baby 24/7. That’s a lot of work. Don’t make yourself sound that bad. You know you always get around to stuff sooner or later.
Me: No! You don’t understand. I don’t WANT to be that kind of person. Period. I want to be different than I am. I want to be an awesome wife and mom. See..here’s how it is. I’m supposed to get up before you do, have your breakfast cooked, enjoy a wonderful hot meal together, then kiss you on the cheek, and send you off to work at 5:30 am with ironed clothes and a packed nutritious lunch……
Kevin, butting into my tirade: Yeh, I remember you did that one time a couple years ago……
Me: ::::looks at him annoyed::::
Me, continuing: …..then after you leave, I should get the laundry caught up, do my morning routine, then wake up our son, get him dressed and feed him a hot nutricious breakfast. I’m home all day, so the house should be spotless too, right???? The bed should be made, the floors sparkling, the dishes done, and soft classical music playing in the background. It doesn’t SOUND like it would be too hard. And truthfully, when I get to doing it, it doesn’t physically take that long. Then, there should be a garden of vegetables out back. I’d love to learn how to can things! And all this talk about organic being the best, shouldn’t we look into learning about that stuff??? And we should see about getting a city recycle bin too as all this going green talk has me feeling guilty every time I throw the weekly circular into the trash. Better yet, I should just turn it into paper pulp, make beads, and sellthem on Etsy!! Also, I want to look pretty every day and enjoy going out to lunch occasionally too. I don’t like being cooped up all the time and it’s good for Jack to get out. Yet in reality, I don’t even want to get dressed when I wake up and by the time I return from taking Jack to the morning storytime, the hermit in me doesn’t want to do anything else, much less grocery shop or cook the evening meal every night. But everything that SHOULD be done SOUNDS so easy in my head, and that’s the kind of wife I truly want to be. As a Christian, that’s who I’m SUPPOSED to be, right?? Isn’t that what you want too??? Our home should be tranquil…peaceful…clean. Anyway, that’s what annoys me – the version of me I picture in my head is not who I am in reality…..she’s there…I can almost feel her…but I can’t make myself become her….and….
Kevin: :::::cuts into my tirade, looking strait at me instead of the road:::::: Uh, no. Listen, I don’t know what weird things you’ve been reading, but if you acted like that I’d kick you out or leave myself. You don’t need to get up when I do! You need your sleep. Plus you know I like to be alone during the morning. And I could care less about any of that other junk you mentioned. You’re awesome. I don’t want you to be like all that. Are you seriously nuts??? I want you to be like YOU.
Me: ::::::sinks into subdued thoughtful silence for the 2 minute remainder of the ride::::::::
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LESSON LEARNED: Don’t try to be someone else’s version of the perfect wife and mother.
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DISCLAIMER: This is a true story. The names were not even changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
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Tags: Bedroom Floor, Being A Good Wife, Being who you are, Clean Underwear, conversations at our house, Desire, Kmart, Laundry, Little Ceasars, Living Room, Mcdonalds, Muse, Perfect Mother, Perfect Wife, Stuff, Subway Menu, Taco Bell, Vegetables
sweetheart, it’s your life. not anyone else’s as long as you and the boys are happy and content is all that matters. luv ya tweetpea!
Luce >> yeh, but the thing is, I wasn’t content thinking I had to “be” all those things. It’s hard to draw the line between what’s your life and what’s just a glimpse of someone else’s….
aw man…. i feel like this EVERY DAY!!!!! But you know what we’re never gonna be totally caught up or we’d be at a loss for what to do! lol. theres this amazing book though, ‘the new messies manual’ by sandra felton, i totally recommend it! it changed my life a lot for the better…. even though you don’t WANT to do stuff, you better do it, or else you’re gonna have to do it later, and thats gonna stink too, and even more, cuz there will be more work piled up!!! and if you do the dishes before hubby gets home you can relax on the couch and watch a tv show guilt free!! lol. those are just some of the ‘ideas’ i got from reading the book…. its a great one…. common sense i never had…
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Hey Amanda! I’ll have to see if my library has that book…haha. Sounds like a good read.
Boy do I ever relate! I still think I need to do all those things every day. I have to remember that I can’t compare my weaknesses (disorganization, mainly) to others’ strengths (organization, mainly). I’m good at plenty of other things that maybe a more organized person isn’t.
I love what your husband said. He’s right, too.
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