A Happy Housewife

I think I've mentioned before my fondness for calling a bad day "a bad day" before it gets too far and just waiting it out until you can start over the next day. On those day there are increased TV times, decreased expectations for meals, and little else that happens. I firmly stick to the idea that those days happen and are maybe necessary for my happiness as a housewife.

But what happens when you realize you've been calling days "bad" pretty much every day for two weeks?

Well, then it's time to stop calling them "bad" and call them "good" before they even start. That's what I did yesterday. Instead of indulging my laziness for the umpteenth day in a row, I indulged some obsessiveness. I worked and played hard all day. If I had a spare minute I did something instead of plopping down and being relieved that I had one second to myself and at the same time dreading the next second because I knew it brought more work. The result was fabulous. I had a great day. I got almost all the laundry done and folded, the kitchen got clean and stayed clean, my bedroom was cleaned up a bit, the family room got cleaned at the end of the day and the kids and I had a blast inbetween all that work. I even had time to make a fun new style of bracelet for Chic Made. And I felt great at the end of the day. I felt fulfilled in a way that, quite honestly, I didn't think housework could make me feel.

I think sometimes I may take the whole "liberated housewife" thing a little too far. Yes, I don't feel tied down to my house in order to get it clean and organized. I love to wallow in a family room filled with toys on the ground with my kids - but apparently I also don't mind focusing on cleaning sometimes. I guess sometimes I have to just get over myself and do what I need to do. Suck it up. Work through it. Do what you've got to do. (and all the other cliches)

I guess it's a good thing I feel that way because even one day of hard work doesn't cancel out the disaster that is ignoring your household duties for a couple of weeks. Another day (or three) of work is in my future, but I don't dread it. Because housework can be fulfilling. Who knew?

My Mom. She knew.