Hot Dogs and Hampers

This weekend I watched a movie that took place in the 50’s. The movie left me contemplating how the role of the Lady of the House has changed over the years.  In the 50’s most women did not work outside of the home.  They spent their days caring for their family and their dwelling.  They made careers out of gardening, ironing, and meat loafing.  They were there to make their hard working husbands a high ball after work and help their children with homework.  Then one day- someone had a brilliant idea that women too should be working outside the home- expanding their skills and contributing financially to their families.  Genius! 

But what happened to the ironing? The homework? The meatloaf?  Did the need for such domestics dissolve?  No- the need is still very much there.  The need stares me in the face from the over flowing laundry hamper.  The need wakes me up at 6 am on Sunday’s expecting Cheerios and snuggles.  The need suggests I try a new recipe tonight when I am done watering the plants. 

I take my role as Lady of the House very seriously.  I try daily to do a little something for the better of my family but after 40 hours at the office sometimes the best thing I can muster for my family is to allow them to live another day.  But I am WOMAN- I am strong, I am multi-tasker capable of taking care of the world, and the house and the never ending laundry pile…right?  That is how I should feel and yet most days I just feel tired. 

Am I turning my back on the generations of women who fought so that I too could go to an office everyday and bust my hump and then go home and play June Cleaver- if I throw in the towel?  Am I less of a woman if I feel that I would be fully satisfied as a 1950’s housewife? 

Being the Mom I want to be…the woman I want to be for my man takes a lot of time.  It takes a lot of work and often I don’t have the time or the energy after a 40 hour work week.  The type of mother I want to be does not feed my son hot dogs for dinner three times a week but makes him nutritionally balanced meals from the heart.  The type of mother I want to be does not tell her son that she is too tired to go for a bike ride because she has been dreaming of putting her feet on the coffee table for hours.  The type of partner I want to be, that I know I have in me does not have to send her Hubby to work wearing miss- matched socks but instead would like to send him to work with a packed lunch.  Even typing this I know how I must sound to many women out there?  Seriously? Satisfied with the old, traditional housewife life?  Yes, yes I think I might be. 

To those of you that are thinking that I am underestimating the work entailed and the commitment it takes to be a self proclaimed domestic goddess are wrong.  I am a hard worker- I always have been and I am not looking for an excuse to eat Bon Bons and watch The Young and the Restless.  That is what weekends and DVR are for.  I just feel that I am not a star performer in the role of Lady of the House at the moment.  I am not performing to my fullest potential and that leaves me feeling like I am failing my family-one micro-waved hot dog at a time!  

What are your thoughts on my dreams of domestic conquests?

Lessons in Love from Smug and In Love

I read a quote today- it said ”Every woman deserves a man that makes her forget that her heart was ever broken.”  It was an ironic time to have read the quote as last night a few girlfriends and myself spent much of the evening consoling a friend who was recently broken hearted.  After the girls left, I looked at Mr. Not So New and once again felt an overwhelming love and gratitude for having him in my life.  It wasn’t always so easy.  I was once the one being consoled; the one with the broken heart.  The one who thought true love was not in my deck of cards.  And now, now that I have it-it seems so distant; the hurt, the sleepless nights, the puffy eyes, the feeling of hopelessness. 
At times having been there- in the broken heart-ed’s uncomfortable shoes I know how there is nothing anyone- especially the smug and in love friend can say.  But being the smug and n love friend that once was the broken hearted I have so much to say.  Since I cannot say it in the heat of the somber moment I will say it now.
For the most part relationships should be easy.  Sure there are adjustments to make.  Joining two lives together takes time to get used to.  Division of labor needs to be worked out, finances come into play etc.  But once you figure that out it should be smooth sailing.  I am not saying that you won’t get under each other’s skin but if what annoys you about the person comes even close in comparison to what you love about the person than you are wasting your time with the wrong someone. 
I have been in relationships where I have been loved more than I did love and I have been in relationships where I loved more than I was loved.  In both cases, you know.  Listen to your inner self she may be the only person being honest with you.
Timing is extremely important.  Mr. Not So New is so amazing that I often wonder why anyone before me let him slip away.  Being that we found each other at nearly thirty we both had been through our fair share of relationships.  We both learned a lot about love.  What to do, what not to do.  Who we are, and who we are not.  The Mr. Not So New of this relationship is a different person than relationships of his past. Had we met even a year prior ( we did know each other but not well), we would not be the same people and maybe we would not be as we are today.  I truly believe that timing is a key factor in love.  
Communication is crucial.  I see people all the time talking to their friends, family, and therapists about their unhappy relationships.  Are they talking to the other half if their relationship?  I believe that is the first person that should be hearing of troubles.  Mr. New and I talk about everything that bothers us.  Sometimes we need to talk about it over and over to really make the other person hear that it is important to us.  We may not understand it but once we understand that it is important or bothersome to the other we accept it as that and do what we can to accommodate. 
Another misconception that I too, with a bleeding heart once believed was that there were no good men left, and if there were they certainly were not dwelling in Vermont.  Well ladies, I proved myself wrong on that one and I am sure that I did not snag the last one. 
When Mr. Not So New was still Mr. New, I blogged about wanting to keep the new-ness alive. I wrote about the butterflies and the excitement that encompasses falling in love.  I had a lot of nay-sayers that said it would fade and the butterflies would go away.  Well I am proud to report that just over a year into the relationship, having lived together now since June (yes we moved quickly) my tummy has more butterflies than ever.  They were right about one thing though- it does not feel new.  It feels even better.  

Officer Cry Baby

Recently for my real job- I call it my real job because I have many imaginary ones. For example I am a star of the Real Housewives of Rutland County reality show, I am Tom Brady’s personal masseuse and of course a famous writer. Any way as I began- as an obligation to the job that is not only in existence in my head, I attended a meeting based on hiring the men and women that are returning from active duty in our Armed Forces. Let me preface this piece with my utter humbleness and pride that I hold for such Americans that have a selfless gene that I have not. Secondly, I agreed with each presenter that spoke and full heartedly believe that these returning soldiers deserve the support of the citizens that they put their lives in danger to protect and serve.


Having said that I can go back to being me. In high school partially due to the fact that I have a unisex name, I would constantly be hounded by Army recruiters- by phone, and by mail. To those of you that know me, I am sure that at least a little of the corner of your lip turned up at the thought of me…in the Army. For those of you that don’t know me, I am sure the above sentence about my dream job as a filmed housewife might give you a bit of an inclination as to my pastimes and character, neither of which there is much room for in the Army.

I picture Goldie Hawn in Private Benjamin. I cannot handle being yelled at. I cry. In fact, I cry when I am doing laundry and I have run out of dryer sheets, I cry when my favorite girl does not receive a rose at the rose ceremony on an episode of the Bachelor, I cry e-v-e-r-y time I watch The Notebook, The Lion King and the episode of King of Queens when Carrie loses the baby. Can you imagine how I would handle some big man up in my face, spit-screaming at me because I am not much of a morning person or because I simply asked where the Sauvignon Blanc was in the mess hall?

I am pretty fit; I can do yoga in a 100 degree room. I have done fitness boot camps and I am no stranger to the treadmill but Army boot camp seems a bit extreme for me. I have never signed up for an early morning exercise class. I like to get my work outs done right after work so that immediately after I can reward myself with a glass of wine. Also, none of the exercises that I participate in have involved my need for a gas mask and or removal of leaches from my body post work out. Sometimes I even count just putting work out gear on and sitting on the couch as a good enough attempt. Not sure doing the same with my fatigues would be acceptable.

Speaking of fatigues…where do I even begin. Although thanks to the Kardashians the one piece jumpsuits are in this year, I have yet to see any that are head to toe camouflage. I prefer less thick material to show the curves I have worked so hard to get. I have never seen a flattering Army uniform, and what is with the slicked back bun or braid? This is simply a look that cannot be pulled off. Oh, I forgot to mention that I cry when I am feeling unattractive. Waking up every morning to the one piece brown and green canvas jumpsuit and slicked back bun would have me crying a river before sun up daily.

Folks, we haven’t even left boot camp let alone combat. Just the word combat frightens me- it sounds like a poisonous snake. What we have learned here is that the returning troops need our support and need jobs. Overall they make strong candidates for most positions in most fields as they possess leadership, courage, determination, commitment, and perseverance. Many of them are young in age but have life experiences well beyond their years. These men and women fought for us and we need to help fight for them… What we also learned is that the military is not for everyone and I did my part in protecting our country by staying as far from the battle ground as possible!