Don’t call me housewife…

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Sure, I am a wife and yes, I’m currently on maternity which makes me a stay at home Mum. 

But I am not a housewife.

Sorry.

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My husband and I are 50/50. I cook, he cleans. He does bath time, I do bed time. He works, I work.

Except at the moment my work involves keeping two children not only alive, but-like- happy.

It’s the hardest job I’ve ever had.

We recently got a cleaner, because no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get on top of the cleaning. I haven’t seen the bottom of my laundry basket since 1995. And my house looks more like a play centre than a living area. Oh and we eat fast meals, I have tried, but spending more than half an hour in the kitchen every evening is just no beuno. 

And no, he doesn’t get a day off. Neither do I. He comes home and normally I take half an hour to just debrief, go for a run or maybe even treat myself to a poo in peace.

He doesn’t babysit the kids either. I go out with my friends and he stays home with our children. He goes out with his friends and I stay at home with our children. We’d love a date night but our youngest is too small to be with someone overnight, so at the moment our adult time is spent apart. Because we’re both adults and we both need it.

We’re also both parents and there’s no me in that.

Yes, I support him. And he supports me. We’re a team, and there’s no housewife in this team. Just two people dedicated to raising our children the best way we know how whilst trying to hold on to some sense of self.

And you know what, that’s okay. It’s taken me a while to comes to terms with my perpetually messy house and eating meat and two veg every night. But this our journey, and I figure my kids won’t remember how messy the house it. What I hope they’ll remember is the moments we spent with them.

What about you? Have you found the right path for your journey?

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