being incredible

From time to time I have a day of insanity and decide that I am going to be superwoman A+ wife. Let’s make that, housewife. I model myself on a 1950’s wife, and decide to feed my man, wash for him, keep the house impeccably clean, and basically be incredibly industrious. Oh, and look good too.

 1955,  The Good Wife's Guide

Yesterday I was in this ridiculous frame of mind due to having slightly more energy than usual, combined with delusional thoughts that I am a failure of a wife for rarely cooking or cleaning. 

The day started well. I was enthused, and confident that yes I could tidy the house, clean the rabbit cage, do the washing, go to the gym and make dinner. Despite my illness. 

It got to 2 pm and I started to feel very worn out, and just plain ill. The house was tidy, I was exercised, I had some shopping, but oh how was I to make dinner? I granted myself the luxury of an hour’s nap feeling guilty for such a deviation from domestic goddess-ing. This nap was far from relaxing because I knew that I needed to get up shortly and keep ploughing on. My nap ended before I’d even began to unwind. But I decided that I was not going to fail, not this time, I just wanted to be a ‘proper housewife’ for one measly day. Partially because people pity Ben for having to work AND look after himself and his sick wife...and I take those comments as a judgement on me and my limitations. I resolutely dragged my ill body from the enticing couch and walked myself into the kitchen where I proceeded to cook my first meal in months. 

It was 5.30 and Ben arrived home. 

I felt deflated, ill and irritable. Exhausted from my efforts, I had nothing left to give, not even a laugh. I didn’t enjoy our time together because I was spent and ruined. By 8.30 pm I had the early onset of a migraine. By 10.00pm I had a head splitting migraine, which was not about to allow me any rest. I lay in bed holding my head for dear life, while moaning that I wouldn’t be able to make it to my appointment the next morning and what a disaster this would be. We didn’t get off to sleep till the early hours of the morning – and here ended my day of being a super housewife. Super.

A gorgeous friend (find her here) who is also chronically sick put it just perfectly after I told her my feelings:

But you can love him, laugh with him, cuddle him, be there, talk to him, smile, hug him, comfort him, care for him, and make him excited to come home for dinner. Aren’t those things more important and more precious than cleaning and cooking?

How many times has Ben said he doesn’t want me to waste energy on the house, because it’s not important, because it’s not what counts...

And I continually fall into the trap of wanting to be society’s ideal partner– the girl who earns an income, or the girl who is the classic capable housewife...instead of being his best friend and most loyal supporter. When I said my vows, I didn’t promise to cook dinner, I promised to love him and cherish him and respect him and that is all he ever wanted from me. 

Today I took my wifeing to a whole new level. I spent time with my friend, took my dog to the park and lay in the sunshine, lay on the couch, ate food and left the dishes untouched....and I am so ready to hang out with my man tonight. 

Dear Self,

I know you're a slow learner, but why do you keep getting side tracked from life by living up to unimportant expectations?

Seriously, D