One of the biggest regrets of my life ... and there are a LOT of regrets ... is that I fucked up my twenties so bad that I totally forgot to get a career. I almost had one, as a copywriter in a kick-arse advertising agency in North Sydney. They could see my potential, I tried so hard to believe in myself .... but drinking and partying, etc kept getting in the way. I would turn up to work ROLLING drunk, sober up around 1pm, and spend the afternoon trying to figure out what the hell I had done the night before.
These days, if I'm around somebody who has drank the night before, I can smell it through their pores. Which in turn means that after all my benders, I would have stank the whole office out. It makes me embarrassed just thinking about it. Everybody around me would have known. I had a lot of pretty cool jobs when I was younger. In a travel agency, magazine publishers, advertising, radio stations. And I fucked up every single one. Spectacularly. In a so-not-cool way.
So now, I am a kind of stay-at-home-mum who works from home part-time. And here's the thing about my beloved husband ..... HE IS STUCK IN THE FIFTIES. Yes. Yes he is. Because I do not have a "proper" job, he does not lift a finger when he gets home. Annoying as it is, we have trained the boys pretty well. Tim can clean up the kitchen in ten minutes flat. I'm on Max's back all the time about picking up after himself, and I've just taught him how to unpack the dishwasher. He also feeds the dog and keeps his room clean. I've taught Tim how to cook a few meals, he cooks a better steak than me.
I see no value whatsoever in sending young men out into the world with no idea how to take care of themselves. They will know how to clean a toilet, wash their clothes, and tidy up. I fully expect their future wives to thank me.
This still leaves me with the bulk of cleaning the house. Dave built our house, it's beautiful. But it sucks. I'm forever cleaning it. And cooking. And washing dirty boy clothes. And making beds, sweeping up Rocco's thrown dinner, picking up toys, grocery shopping ... etc. It's full on. Sometimes I think it's good because it takes me outside of myself. I'm just too busy to fuck up my life anymore.
Dave and I have an unofficial agreement - he goes to 'real' work, while I do all the 'pretend' work.
I have a few writing jobs that I do from home. I set up my freelance business (business HA!) .... before Rocco was born, promised Dave I would still earn money. The past few years I've drowned in dirty sheets and shitty nappies and tear-soaked tissues. Any money I make goes straight to Rocco's few days a week daycare fees. So, I'm pretty flat broke. I just don't spend much money - I'm not earning it, so I can't spend it. My idea of a splurge is buying a few tops and long-johns for winter recently, grand total of $75.
This past week I have gone through every single room in our house, de-cluttering stuff that's been there since we first moved in five years ago. I even went through the pantry. My brother came over to visit to find me alphabetising my spice rack. He was like, "Eden what the fuck is wrong?? Are you depressed?"
Dave asked if I was pregnant. I'm not, just organising, man. Who knew it felt SO GOOD. I went through all of my clothes, to sell some cool stuff on eBay so I can buy my plane ticket to BlogHer. (Dave saw the clothes ... hon you look great in that! Ohhh, not that, keep that one!) I told him they are all too small. I may have a fringe, but midriff tops? Totally pushing it.
I turned to Dave yesterday, and said, mate, I *DO* work, you know. I do heaps around here! He was surprised, told me of course I do, there's no way he could go out and function and run his business if I wasn't doing everything at home. I wish he told me this, you know, eight years ago.
A few days ago I put BlogHer ads up in my sidebar. About seven hours after I did it, I ran a report to see how much money I'd made. Because I was born missing a patience gland.
"DAVE! GUESS HOW MUCH MONEY I'VE EARNED SO FAR??!"
He came running, panting with excitement. "Wow - how much hon?"
I smiled at him and showed him the figure.
"Seventeen cents."
Bless his heart, he was almost as excited as me.
Almost.
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
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I'm so not good at things like house work. I hate it. I hate clutter so I will usually make an effort to keep clutter picked up but things like dusting? HATE it.
ReplyDeleteI love that part about missing a patience gland. I think I'm missing that too.
Awesome about the ads! Man, I am on the list but it is going to take forever! :-)
ReplyDeleteI tell, you being a SAHM is way harder than going to work. Which is why my house is a mess. I would pick up that book on the floor but i have already pciked it up 5 times today!!!! So I am just leaving it there.
Good idea to sell stuff. We need to go through the basement.
This post was uber sweeet and made my morning. I bet you're up to 32 cents by now - how cool is that?
ReplyDeleteEden you are GREAT at what you do!
ReplyDeleteMy husband is at home for the moment...doing all that crappy work that you're doing. (Although, he likes organizing stuff so he can tell me how disorganized I am.) He keeps telling me that I'm stressed out because I'm the main support of the family. I guess I'd better tell him how nice it is to not have to worry about laundry or cleaning up every day. Thanks for the reminder!
ReplyDeleteGreat job, teaching the boys to be self-sufficient. Their future wives WILL thank you!
I could have written this post. It pisses me off to no end that I am the one that has to do everyfuckingthing around here. BigD sits and plays computer games after work. After I am done at work, I get to grocery shop, cook, clean, make all the appointments, wash all the clothes, vacuum and dust, load and unload the dishwasher....and on and on.
ReplyDeleteWhen S1 was 12 he complained about something that came out of the wash "wrong". I promptly told him that as of that minute he was in charge of washing all his own clothes. He does to this day and is extremely responsible. I refuse to have my future daughters-in-law hate me because their husbands are clueless. These chicks will love me :)
Though it is too late for BigD. I just hope he gets wrist pain from his keyboarding.
(wow....can you tell you struck a nerve???)
I HATE when men sit around and expect women to clean up and do everything. I am middle-eastern after all.. men are programmed to sit on their asses. It would always piss me off so badly.
ReplyDeleteI married a man that helps BIG TIME. I wouldnt have married him otherwise.His brother does nothing.. doesnt help with his own twins, doesnt lift a finger in the house and the wife expects this kind of behavior.
When my husband and I share responsibilities, his brother busts his balls... and this pisses me off big time. now that we're going ot live right next door, I worry that this attitude will rub off on barak, but I pray that it doesnt.
I am glad you are raising men who know they need to do their share.
I'm still trying to figure out how to keep a clean house, and I've been a stay-at-home for a month now! It's tough, and there's only two of us (well, and the dog tracks in plenty). It is a FULL time job - I'm glad Dave recognizes it, even if he doesn't always say it.
ReplyDeleteYour sons' wives will truly thank you for preparing them to help out around the house - my husband pitches in quite often and even thanks me for doing the housework and cooking and it always knocks my socks off :).
You rock. I wish I lived 'round the corner so we could have daily visits over tea and timtams and we could trade recipes and shit.
ReplyDeleteI find the housework thing very interesting from a spiritual/personal growth perspective, because even though Manny does appreciate my work and also contributes, I still find I have a lot of resentment about it. Which is all deeper stuff, of course, and full of stories I've created. So it is a good practice for me to try to do it without getting all caught up in that stuff.