Societal influences upon today's ideas and opinions of the roles of husband and wife as it compares to the 50s housewife lifestyle

OR My Mother-in-Law is Really Starting to Piss Me Off

Oh, hey there, ladies! Oh yes, it has been such a long time. Oh I've missed you so, but as you know I am a facebook whore so it's not like I didn't get to see you and all. We just haven't had a moment to sit down at the kitchen and have a little chatty chat. Oh yes. And do I need to have a chatty chat, maybe a bit of Take it to the Table Tuesday is in order, even if I am a bit early. But who gives a rats ass! This is my effin' kitchen!

So. It's been a rough few weeks here at the Reed Ranch. Whewey yes, mama, rough! Lost a cat of 17 years and lost a job of 7 (well, that was kind of a mess and not really worth getting into, just take it as 7 years of lowered IQ (the patrons, not me) and drunken debauchery lifted of my chest, sigh, ahhhhh). It has been the end of a few eras for me and it certainly didn't make life with me easy, but I'm sure that is never easy.

Life with that damn redneck hasn't been either. He, the lucky ducky who hated the place he worked so freakin' much that he made my life living hell, started a new job in the past month. Oh thank frickin' Pete Steele, because really ladies, I was going to put him, and me, out of his misery pretty damn ass quick. But now the issue is 3rd shift. He's been there a month, but it's only been 2 weeks on 3rd. 2 very long, very crabby weeks.

Yeh, like I said, it's been a rough few weeks with me balling over the end of the eras and him being a super duper crabby ass pants it's been just peachy here at the ranch. And let me recap for you anywhoot how 2011 had gone for the Reeds...Bad car accident, stupid Governor screwing with my future, lost unemployment early, fruitless job search, job change for Urbilly, dying and now dead and buried by me cat, annnd a big signora to the bar! Oh, and the failed Rapture thing. That really pissed me off, I mean c'mon now, what more could I ask for, but swift judgment and burning hell eternity here on earth. All good. I got a shot gun and supplies. I'd just need to loot me a generator! Yee Haw!

Of course there's more to the last few weeks annnd months than these few things I mention, there's always more, but I don't think I need to get into all the details about how Murphy's Law and the Universe take turns bending me over. You can read my archives for that!

No, let's talk some housewifery today shall we ladies?Hmmm? Or maybe more of my hatred of it? And maybe we could chat about someone who would do well to keep her nose out of my damn ass bus-i-ness! Hmph! Yes, I'm sure my sub-title let you on that I'm starting to have some issues with my mother-in-law, well at least one major one. Insert low growl here...grrrrrrr.

Well, ladies, as I'm sure you don't know, I have a minor in Sociology and often enjoy a bit of extracurricular research, or at least me analyzing the mess of a situation I am in with a sociologist mind and comparing and contrasting to other societal norms. Which makes for more of an effed up situation for myself in the end, but this time, this time it became clear as y oven window, no, my patio door, no, my windshield, no, my Zima...Anywhoot...

On Sunday I held a backyard birthday BBQ for my dear sweet H who turned 2. Yeah, H! I invited a number of friends (who didn't show), some closer friends (who did show) and family of course (mine and his). So during this event as I came in from saying good bye to the last friend to leave I heard my MIL say, "...now if we could only get Donna to keep a better house," to my mother. Fuck. Really?! My mom? It's her damn ass fault I suck at this shit and she knows it (I know, I'm an adult and it's all on me now, but that's what this blog is all about isn't it?). She obviously didn't teach me jack.

My older brother by 10 years, also sitting in the room, rolled his eyes. He would. His house is a freakin' trash pit. His floor would put our dirty floors to shame, girls. Seriously. I don't even remember what color it is anymore. And don't get me started on the bathroom, I am seriously afraid to sit on his toilet, damn. If you compare me to him I'm freakin' Heloise! But, Milly, my mother-in-law has never seen his house and has no idea. She has no idea as to how we were raised or as to how my mother dealt with chores and such. She didn't. My mom did it all herself, and if you tried to clean up after yourself, she just cleaned over that. She was a bit insane about it and never really taught us how to keep house. She really rather did it all. I've mentioned before that I learned what little housewifery I know from my dear sweet grandmama. And it obviously wasn't enough.

So, after I walked in on this conversation it turned into Milly telling me how I'm the wife, and it's my job to keep up better on the place, and I'm the wife, and I should put his laundry away for him, and I'm the wife and I should do this and I should do that, and I'm the wife, and I'm the wife. Well, oh yeh, Ms. 1962 lost in the last century, it's 2011 and I wasn't cut out to be a housewife, didn't ask to be one, it's not on the resume or the CV for that matter, I had a damn ass job, lady... it's starting to seem that I wasn't cut out to be a wife at all by your standards. Well, at least one for your son. Thhhbbbbt. Damn. How freakin' textbook typical. For such a liberal open person she sure is effin' narrow.

I got mouthy about how this is a new century and that I didn't ask for this crap and she started to get damn near belligerent telling me that I need to learn how to fold laundry AND put it away. Piss off, lady. Does it really matter? It's laundry! It's just going to end up back on the floor again because YOUR son can't seem to keep it off the effin' floor! Whose freakin' fault is that?!

Damn.

You know, I rather like her, sometimes, and from afar. I used to live with her and it wasn't all bad. Not what I wanted in life, but not all bad. Well, not at first. Then the power struggle came in..those stories are for another post. But let me at least tell you a bit about Milly so you don't totally condemn her, because frankly, she doesn't deserve that. Maybe just a kick in the ass...

Milly worked hard as a single mom with two small kids and busted her ass off to get through college when all odds were against her. She constantly struggled financially and did her best to take care of her family on her own. And from what I know it wasn't always easy. I respect her quite a bit for struggles as a single mom working her way through college. She graduated with a 3.8 so she sure ain't now dummy...she just lacks some common sense sometimes... and a filter. Oh lordy! does this woman need a filter. The filter is a big problem as we have just learned.

Apparently I must not be taking good enough care of her son whom she obviously coddled and picked up after constantly (she didn't have the money to spoil her kids, but I kinda think she did it in other ways whether it be earlier or later in life), because now, my husband insists I be better at keeping the house. It's been a big deal ever since I lost my job. It is his biggest request. In fact, it is one of our major issues in our marriage. Major enough that it has begun to cause serious problems. It's number one on his list (go on ladies, ask me what is number one on my list someday...). Sigh. To me it seems so petty, so shallow. But to him, it's soooooo important, that I, the wife, keep the place clean.

So if you have ever wondered why I am struggling so hard to be a better housewife, why I write this blog, why I bitch, why I cry, and why I am constantly unhappy with my cleaning standards...that is why. I am trying to hold on to my marriage. My husband can't stand the way I keep house and it keeps us from being happy and healthy. Well, that and the universe and Murphy's and a million other effed up dysfunctional issues. Yeh, I'm fucked up! Aren't we all?

But I'll just bet his mother gave him a copy of this...

The Good Wife's Guide

From Housekeeping Monthly, 13 May, 1955.

• Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have be thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they get home and the prospect of a good meal is part of the warm welcome needed.
• Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.
• Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.
• Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Run a dustcloth over the tables.
• During the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering to his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.
• Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet.
• Be happy to see him.
• Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.
• Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
• Don't greet him with complaints and problems.
• Don't complain if he's late for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through at work.
• Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or lie him down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
• Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.
• Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.
• A good wife always knows her place.

Oooooh yes, ladies, we'll talk about this next time. The study continues...




Nice to be back,

Donna Freakin' Reed



xoxo