Many, many years ago, back before I had a husband, children, a home of our own and a job title of housewife I had a vivid imagination.
I imagined what it was going be like when I grew up and I would have a husband, children, a home of our own and the job title of housewife.
It was going to be one of those made for TV stories kind of life. We were going to live in a little cottage with one of those back doors that split in the middle. The kind of door I could open the top half and I would look out over my perfectly manicured yard with the white picket fence and bright colored flowers lining the edge of the sidewalk. It was going to be just like the cottage on Petticoat Junction that Bettie Jo and Steve Elliott lived in.
Then as our children grew we were going to have a nice tri-level house like the house the Brady Bunch lived in. We wouldn’t need a housekeeper like Alice or even Hazel because we were going to be the perfect parents like June and Ward Cleaver.
That was my happily ever after dream.
Whenever reality set in and I had my husband, children, a home of our own and a job title of housewife my vivid imagination went right out the door.
We started out in a trailer (now they are called mobile homes), then moved to a small apartment, a larger apartment, then a small house, and eventually a larger house. Not a tri-level house, but one with plenty of room and a big back yard for the kids to play in. It also has a little white fence out front and flower gardens with brightly colored flowers.
I had the job title of full-time housewife which included being my own housekeeper, maid and chief bottle washer and diaper changer. But that was okay because I didn’t mind keeping a house, raising my children and transporting them to all kinds of extra curricular activities.
I was a stay at home mom who helped with homework, had meals on the table, played backyard games and had family fun days.
There were days that fit my imagined made-for-TV-story scenarios. Then there were days that didn’t fit the bill; they were more on the order of Roseanne Barr’s family.
Those were the days when I thought about the dream life from my vivid imagination point of view and wondered what in the world went wrong.
This was not what I had imagined and I wanted a way out.
Now there are days when I recall the way things were and how hectic life had once been and I can’t imagine how I survived all I did when I was doing it all.
The other day I got off a couple of hours early from a full-time job and instead of going home and doing nothing I did things like I did when my children were home and I was a full-time housewife.
I went home and did laundry, cleaned bathrooms, ran the vacuum, went to the grocery store and actually cooked a real meal. There wasn’t any open a can and a box and throw it together either. It was real home-cooked food.
Later that evening as I sat and rested I realized how much I missed being a full-time housewife like I used to be when our kids were home, and there wasn’t a full-time job.
My vivid imagination from years ago saw what I wanted to be when I grew up. While I was living that dream I often thought it wasn’t really what I imagined it was going to be. Looking back I realize that everything was exactly the way I had imagined I wanted it to be.
In my earlier vision I was looking through rose-colored glasses, I was living it through smoky glass, and now looking back in hindsight I have 20-20 vision and see it all so clearly.
Maybe it is true you don’t miss something until you no longer have it anymore, but I do know I really miss all that hectic schedule of kids, cooking and cleaning.
I think I kind of like being a housewife. It is a good profession that is getting pushed aside because of today’s economy and having to have two income families just to make ends meet. And that’s a shame.
Being an old-fashioned housewife is an experience I believe to be a good experience to have.
Even on the hectic days.
