How did I become a house wife?

151I don’t know quite what triggered it, besides our obvious move that we made over a year ago. I’ve always been a free spirit, very stubborn, and my husband was always the one trying to cook when he could and cleaning up after my messes. I hear some women talk about how we aren’t exactly as free as we think we are. This one lady who said these exact words said that we weren’t very free, we were only free to cook, clean, do laundry, and take care of the children. That men these days still don’t know how to help out and they are taught for us to take care of them… And essentially we become like their mothers. (Ew.)

This woman was also married for 36 years and recently had become divorced at the age of sixty. I thought of interjecting to say that my husband has always been a gentleman, opening doors for me, getting my coat, and he has always the one cleaning, cooking, he was even doing my laundry! I could tell she was very hurt by what happened to her, understandably so, and my unusual case with my husband probably wouldn’t be heard.

It was a strange situation with two service providers being in the room at once so I let the other gal answer any of her questions. Her freedom analysis of married women was interesting, but it isn’t the case for all women. I feel absolutely free with my husband, I have traveled more this year than any year in my life. He encourages me to go out with people if I want to, and if I do need him to clean I just need to remind him verbally to do it. Like most guys, dropping hints about dishes or cleaning will get me no where, yet telling him the exact thing I want from him will get him to definitely do it for me.

092I guess I felt more interested in this idea of freedom and us being there to take care of our husbands with cleaning, cooking, etc. because I’ve fell into the role of being like a house wife. Now, keep in mind I still work, I pick up days when my work asks me to, but I’ve even gotten my cooking times coordinated with when my husband might be coming home.

Dinner needs to be ready hopefully by the time he walks in the door, I will be finishing up with it so it is still warm for us when he walks in. I’ve basically taken over dishes duty since I am doing all of our cooking. I thought if I was ever at this stage where I’d consider myself a housewife I’d resent it very strongly. If you asked me a year ago that I’d be cooking complicated dishes almost every day of the week, doing dishes, and especially enjoying the cooking I’d of laughed at you… Very hard. When I visit my family they still don’t believe it, and I’d love to cook for them because it is one of my huge things of pride and discovery for me. My mother never really cooked for us, she really didn’t like it and since we never cooked at home there was not much for us to ever clean. The basics of how to cook was self-taught to myself by trial and error, and amazingly once I started cooking, there was this natural ability to make really tasty dishes.

Now the question of how I became a housewife I think is easiest to be explained by our move and my need to adapt and still feel important without a job. I wanted to be able to do something while I was job searching and though I assumed I wouldn’t be good at cooking, I still decided to give it a try. Now that I have a job the act of cooking, strangely enough, gives me a sort of stress relief after working even when my body is sore from massaging. I don’t know quite how I got to this point I’m at now… But I don’t mind being here.

Choosing strength over worry

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIt feels like its been forever since my husband was notified about the news of his job ending at the end of the year. He has processed it far better than I have, and he has decided to take charge and do everything in his power to prepare to pick his next job. We are both worries, him and I, so I was surprised that he has been handling it as well as he has. My husband has been reading career books, and even has a huge file of the materials he’s accumulated.

All I could do in the beginning was be consumed by the worry, the worry of us running out of money, him not finding a job, so much adding up that at times I felt like I was under a rip current from all of my anxiety. I struggled to get back to normal, but I kept on getting thrown around in the strong current.

Just a week after the news I had a preplanned trip to travel with my brother on our first brother/sister adventure together and I think that this helped me to get back to myself. I laughed more than I had in what felt like years, and it definitely felt cathartic to let all of that pent-up negative energy out in the form of laughter. My brother and I had a great time together and though I came back still worried, I felt like I might be handling it better.

It’s amazing how different I am from when I first moved away from my family and friends, because if given a chance for my husband to take back a job where we used to live, I wouldn’t exactly jump at it. After all of this time I spent fighting our move here and wishing I could go back, I don’t wish for that now. It’s only after the fact and after I accepted our move that I realized the truth… That this move was a very good thing for the both of us. I’ve grown leaps and bounds, teaching myself to cook when before I would burn the water when I had boiling water on the stove and Id run away because I didn’t know what to do to fix it. There’s other things that I’ve grown in, and even my whole body has changed with my weight loss thanks to my dedication to cook and track what I eat.

I don’t want to blame things, people, or circumstances for what I’m going through or the emotions that I feel. Lately even though my husband’s job loss is scary and imminent, I feel like I’ve been even more loving to him and I’m leaning on him more. He asked me if I trusted him to get another job, to choose correctly for what he’d be doing or where we might be going. Normally I’d answer, “Sure, I trust you but I don’t trust the world out there” yet now I’m just answering with just “I trust you.” For all that he and I have been through since saying those simple words “I do.” a year ago when we got married we have faced challenges and we have also conquered them.

There’s the other stipulation of us moving again, and we could be moving many miles away, but even with that I accept it. Another move may be another opportunity for me to learn something new about myself. It will never be easy not to have anxiety about the unknown, yet I’m trying to train myself to pick hope and strength over worry.

Cockroach Killer Extoardinaire


A bug was harmed in the making of this post. Just not this one since it was outside in the safe zone

I’ve never had to deal with cockroaches before, count me lucky, or sheltered, but I know what they look like. My friend has that as one of her big fears, cockroaches she told me can fly, Sarah, seriously! This friend of mine also recently discovered that she has an intense fear of sink holes, which she just recently discovered and she said they can follow you and happen anywhere.

I am a bug person since the age of three I’ve had memories of grabbing ants (even fire ants, ouch) and putting them in my clear plastic purse. Crickets, grasshoppers, moths, caterpillars, rollie pollie bugs, about every bug you can think of I’d collect. As I’ve gotten older I still have an appreciation of all things creepy and crawly, yet, I’ve changed since I was a little girl. If a bug is invading my home I will most likely kill that bug with a vengeance, they will get especially annihilated if I caught them in my bed.

There is no love for bugs if they are found creeping around my home, though they can only wish that I have compassion the day I find them and I might try to let them outside. If they get caught in our home again I doubt I can find it in my bug loving heart not to crush them to pieces. My husband does not have my killer instincts and so we have taken on opposite roles to say the least. So, when my husband and I went to visit our little pet and he nearly fell over I thought he had hurt himself, which was not quite so.

He saw a cockroach, jumped onto the coach like a girl, and told me to take care of it. That bugger was huge, so I did the logical thing.

Me: “I’m going to get my killing boots, be right back.”
Husband: “Don’t leave me with it, come back here!”

I headed over to my closet on the opposite side of the apartment and searched for the perfect killing boots. I couldn’t find my favorite pair so I went with a high top type of boot after five minutes of searching, pulled up my pajama bottoms, and stomped on over. My husband was on the couch cowering, asking me why I’d left him for so long, he wouldn’t stop hiding on the couch. The cockroach was, of course, hiding as well.

I wasn’t going to be done until I killed it, so I searched around and was able to rush it out but I missed killing it and it darted under our couch.

Me: “We need to move the couch, it’s hiding, get up and help me move it.”
Husband: “What if it attacks me?! I don’t want it to attack me!”

It took quite a bit of convincing but he did move the couch and lo and behold… The cockroach was someplace else. I was on the hunt so I flipped over a pillow and found it, and went into killing mode. I may or may not have sworn while I was stomping it to death and did more than a double tap, more like a twenty tap to make sure it was dead. You gotta remember cockroaches can survive anything, and they are probably like zombies, you gotta make sure that head is off to really kill them.

We then volleyed back and forth who would throw away the dead bug, but I did the killing, so he can take care of the cleanup. My husband then informed if there was a zombie apocalypse that he would be able to handle it. I highly doubt that and know I would just need my killing boots to be able to take on some zombies.

Judgement of being unemployed

172There has been a lot that I’ve learned through being unemployed this time in my life, which is interesting because when I was younger it seemed to be less of a problem. I was ’employed’ as a babysitter when I was a teenager, and this was actually one of the best paying jobs. It was also one of the most stressful, hair pulling, and frustrating start to working a couple of hours watching three girls so close in age. Surprisingly, or not, I came to love these three little girls, and appreciate their mom even more for her working and juggling taking care of them at the same time.

They were all firecrackers, except for the youngest, who was my comrade. My first step into the real workforce was a dog groomer, for more than two years, and then I had a break. I had a then boyfriend who didn’t have to work, and was independently wealthy. I don’t think he had to struggle really with money, or finding a job, and that was his decision, of course.

I spent more than two years with him, and I would be out of a job for two years or more. I missed working, and I missed my coworkers, but I devoted myself to college full time and entered massage school.

As I’ve said before, massage really sparked a passion in me that I knew was there, but never quite realized how much passion I had inside of me for working. Now, my career is never perfect, my job is never perfect, I had tough days where a client would say I wasn’t doing my best. They didn’t connect with me, or my style, and this literally cut me to the bone. I didn’t make any friends to start off, kept to myself, and kept my personal life pretty much to myself for four years.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThen, I found my husband, my life completely changed. Suddenly, it wasn’t all about me, and I made the decision to move with him. Unemployment, yet again, found me right after my wedding day pretty much. Suddenly, when I came across people and told them I was a massage therapist, and unemployed, I got judgement. Not only did I get judged, but once I let it slip I was married I heard many times, “Must be nice your husband makes enough money that you don’t have to work…

I was told I needed to have children if I was going to be unemployed, to give me something to do. I was told that I was not working hard enough to get a job. That my standards were too high, or that I wasn’t applying to enough places. So, I began to isolate myself, so I wouldn’t meet people and get asked that question of, “what do you do for work?” I was in a new place, I’d never moved so far away in my life, and I was terrified of driving and getting lost. The resumes kept on getting sent, but some days I’d really have to force myself to go outside because I hated so much being asked that question.

On this blog, I could be honest with my struggle, and the people who have been following me through my job, to unemployment, knew how much I wanted to be working. My work friends seemed to envy me getting time off and not working, when they’d ask me if I was working I’d have to reply, “no.” While when I would meet up with them I would envy them working at the place that sparked a passion in me and that I missed so badly it literally hurt.

My purpose had become my job, my career, and not having one literally felt like I had no purpose. Being unemployed taught me to be more forgiving of myself, and to really lean on my husband at times for support. I had to learn self compassion, because if I didn’t give myself that compassion, I’d run myself into the ground with guilt. I had to work at my confidence, and take harder days with hopes that a better one would be out there.

The Game Changer when you fall

214I’ve never been one to dream of getting married, rather I’ve been the complete opposite. The last thing I could see myself doing, and this is before I met my husband, was getting married. My history with men has not been good at all, and this has been even at a young age. What I’ve gone through with life has built me into a guarded and protected person. I’ve been this way as long as I can remember, I was always afraid of relationships, or even friendships.

My fear was the fact of getting hurt, and a lot of people who have come across me understand me on the surface. When I met my husband for the first time, I felt something I had scoffed at in those predictable romantic comedy movies.

It was love at first sight, but even more than that, it was love at first words. He just seemed to get me when we first interacted, I loved our banter we had going on and how he could keep up with me. He was funny, fun-loving, one of those types of people who entered the room and lit it up. I knew there was an age difference because I’ve always been interested in older men… It’s like what I’m programmed for. I just didn’t know how much the age difference would be, and it turned out to be not a small amount, but not enough for me to give up on what I felt that first time I met him.

I felt really, genuinely happy being with him. So, of course, you know what I did? I shot him down for my phone number, severely, and he left the party. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be in a relationship again, I had planned not to and had accepted the fact I didn’t want to be with anyone.

If I wanted to take a chance on my emotions really showing I knew I would have to hope he’d come to a party the next day. And, I’d have to decide if I could really let this new found great thing slip out of my fingers like I’ve done so many times before. My choice ended up to chose the unknown, but not after seeing my husband a second time, shooting him down again and finally giving him my phone number the next day because I tracked down his email.

pongEvery day I feel like sometimes the fight for that love is easy, and other times it may be more difficult. One of you may fall down, and you need to be that rock. And other times, while normally you’re strong, suddenly you need that support all the time. I’ve never moved so far in my life, and I’ve never had to struggle for a job without even a single response like I have in this new place.

What I’ve gone through in life that has made me a more guarded and protected person are my scars. They are invisible to anyone else, and I keep them covered up with a smile as my barrier. I’m just happy I have that one person, my husband, to show them to. I’ve never felt the spark before in me when I first saw him and even more when we first started talking. To make me change my mind about everything I thought I knew, I knew he was that special person. He was a game changer, that person who didn’t ask me to ever change and to always be myself.

That infamous white dress


I was the type of person who could never see herself being married, being a bride, and never, ever, planned her wedding day as a child. I never knew about wedding dress styles, mermaid, princess, and all of those other ways of wearing a white dress. I didn’t even want to wear a wedding dress on my day because I was just that anti bride about it. I didn’t see myself as one to follow traditional ways and, surprisingly, did end up with a white dress.

This white dress was sexy and when I put it on I knew I liked how it showed off my curves. But, I have never really fully embraced my body and I took off the dress without taking it home. My husband had already moved without me, my work still didn’t know I was leaving, and I had to show my husband all the dresses I tried on via texting.

See? Talk about breaking all the traditional rules! I wanted my husbands opinion on the dresses since the main bulk of them were colored. I wanted him to enjoy and like my wedding dress, even though he always says I look pretty all the time.

Most brides absolutely love the thrill of shopping for a wedding dress. Some of them can’t get enough of the rush of trying on dress after dress and wondering if it is the one. They wonder if the dress they are in will compare or even live up to their fairy tale dream wedding.It’s the dream they’ve been molding for their wedding because they always knew they’d by a bride. It was just a matter of when the groom came into the picture to propose to start the gears turning of getting their wedding wishes.

I was the exact opposite, of course, and when I started hunting for a dress it was a couple of months before the wedding date because of our venue. I hated the dress shopping as soon as it started, and tried on so many different dresses that my frustration was at an all time high. I never went to a bridal shop and just went to stores, and only tried on two official ‘wedding’ dresses. The first was so poofy that I thought that it might drowned me in its fabrics. And, the second was the one I would try on, think about it, come back, and try on again to decide it would be mine.

My wedding dress was not $2,000 or $1,000 or $5,000… It was a little over $150. I did not buy new shoes for it in white high heels, instead I wore my trusty black sandals that had saved my feet many a time. I think the thing that made me feel most like a bride was on my wedding day getting my hair and makeup done by my work as a goodbye gift. I was not only giving up my blood family as a bride that day, but also my work family I’d come to love.

I tried to get my husband to go for us eloping, and he pushed for a huge wedding at first, but we found a happy compromise of only a few people at it. I never saw myself in a wedding dress, and never imagined being in traditional white, but I did end up in one. The dress embraced my curves, and definitely showed them off. The infamous white dress and the amazing work my coworkers did on me made me feel as beautiful as my husband always told me I was.

The precursor to what people want

033It’s funny having an ‘exotic’ pet and gauging their reactions when you tell them you have a bunny. First, they think it’s a joke and start laughing and tell you how funny you are. Then, it kind of sets in that you aren’t laughing and have promptly gone to your phone to show off pictures of your pet like any pet owner might do. Yet, they don’t know how to react… Bunnies are supposed to be outside, can bite, and how could they ever supposed compare to owning a cat or a dog?

I had a horse before, but no one ever told me to work my way up to another animal. Having a horse was just as unusual, people tended to think that I kept her at my house or that I must have had a farm, both very untrue. So, I’m getting rather used to people’s remarks to my husbands and I with our first pet and people saying, “well, huh, that’s cute and a good starting point to getting a cat next, then a dog, and then maybe a baby!”

It’s not just our waiter we had who said this, I think both mine and my husbands mother are thinking the same thing, working up to having a baby. It’s like now that I am married that is the next line of conversation everyone seems to think is okay talking to me about, are you going to have a kid? I keep on getting asked it when I go back to my old work to visit and my mother has straight out said that this is good practice for baby making. And, I couldn’t be further away from any idea of having a child.

Though our little furry pet doesn’t help out with the bills she does help out with my sanity and taking care of makes me feel better about waiting for my husband to come home. With my last trip back home I’d normally stay longer, yet I couldn’t wait to get back to my bunny and my husband. Our unusual, exotic pet may be a precursor to many people, or a hilarious joke whenever I talk about her to people I don’t know. Personally, she has been just perfect for my lonely days at home.

Kitchen War Zone

One of my favorite things about cooking from scratch is feeling a huge sense of satisfaction and accomplishment when not only is my food edible, but it is delish! I’ve been doing a lot of from scratch recipes from my multitude of recipe books my husband got me for me taking on the chef duties. I did pork without cutting it into tiny pieces which is how I normally cook meat. I just did a buttermilk flour dredged chicken tenderloins fried up in oil with a lemon curd sauce which was divine!

I love when I have weird stuff being checked out at the grocery store and someone asks me, “Why would you need this?? What could you possibly be you making with this?! And then I just smile and explain the recipe and they end up smiling back and saying how it sounds good.

When I pull it off it is icing on the cake! But, my kitchen becomes like a war zone that you get kind of scared stepping back into when you are done cooking. The flour and lemon zest was everywhere, and flour was plastered to the plate I used to dredge the chicken in. The buttermilk and lemon zest was luckily self contained within the bowl, yet making the lemon zest wasn’t so clean and tidy!

The lemon zest flew all over the place and I ended up inadvertently using the grinder on the top of my thumb. It isn’t a from scratch recipe if I don’t end up slicing myself in the process.

I’ve never made chicken without cutting it up into tiny pieces and I have to fight he urge to this time. Luckily dicing up my floured buttermilk bathed chicken wasn’t necessary because the chicken tenderloins turned out moist and not dry at all. My husband gave me two thumbs up and we luckily have an agreement at if I cook the food he will clean it up. Which, with the lemon zest, breading, oil, and the whole kitchen like a war zone I thought this was more than a fair enough agreement.


Touchy Feely Time

Being back home (and I did use the word ‘home’, it is feeling more like it) and having my husband back is a great feeling. The flight I had to get back was very unusual and they were having a system failure so there was a cattle call for people to get on the plane. This one lady looked back at me and said this was a new one which I was relieved she said that because I felt like it was extremely strange too. I got on the plane luckily and in a pretty good seat, but I was pretty much resolved that I would have to wait until the next flight out.

We threw my luggage in his car and then wrapped each other in this big, all-consuming, tight hug. I haven’t hugged much since I was back with family, and I also haven’t been really touched. You could say I’ve been deprived of touch, which is actually how I was raised in my family but now I’ve gotten used to my husband so that it isn’t the norm.

It was one of those hugs that you give when you haven’t seen someone in forever and you’re afraid that when you let go they might just leave again. We said nothing during that time but yet everything was said. I’ve missed you, I’m so happy you’re home, I’m so glad that I can hold you again like this, all the thoughts said through a mere embrace. This trip back to visit with my family has been different, like I said, because the absence of my husband was felt even stronger. This place me and my husband now live in, miles away from my family, is starting to stick to me a little more.

Yet, here we are reunited and then he’s traveling for work in a little bit for a few days. Now, I will be the one alone in our apartment waiting perpetually for him to come home yet logically I will know it’s not happening.

So close to home

In a few days I will be back with family for around 2 weeks and be hanging out with them and going to Vegas with my mom. It’s amazing being in the place I’m at now, and having to visit my family feels just so surreal. And, when I get back to where I’m from everything seems like it’s under a magnifying glass and intensified, the weather, the sights, sounds, and even the wildlife at night. Like I mentioned on my last trip back to visit the air felt crisper, I was aware of that constant breeze and how much cooler everything seemed to feel.

Living away from my family is both hard and a blessing. I’m hoping maybe, just maybe, they might appreciate me a tad more with the distance, and I know I appreciate my time with them more. We fight less, and I’d like to think I don’t take my time with them, or if I’m lucky enough to get time with my friends, for granted. I have Christmas/Birthday gifts ready for my brother and I will leave them at my mom’s house because we may not be down there for Christmas… or my brother’s birthday.

I think that this place is starting to feel more like home, but I still feel like I’m in adjustment zone. I think when I get my job it will kind of tie the pieces together and if I get a job I love to work at with my co-workers and clients that will just definitely make me so ecstatic.

We have more artwork up, I have tried to organize things a bit and I think that I have become what I said I’d never be: a housewife. I am cleaning and doing dishes all the time and keeping up with our apartment. I even have food heating up on the stove though it’s pre-made and could be cooked in a microwave. I don’t make things from scratch and I’ve attempted my hand at cooking myself boneless skinless chicken for dinner. And, lately I have been burning it and it hasn’t even been edible for me. I end up taking a couple of bites and throwing it out it’s that bad. I’ve tried to change-up what I’m doing wrong, yet I’m still re-murdering the chicken breast.

I moved around quite a bit as a teenager so for a few years home wasn’t a place. Home was actually wherever my family and I ended up, and we made it work, and that was our home when we were jumping from apartment to apartment. Now, I know home is my husband and we are trying to make little finishing touches to make a strange new place feel even more welcoming.