While cleaning up my computer the other day I came upon this. A statement that I wrote in a heat of a “mommy meltdown moment” after my husband gave me the “disapproved” look when I couldn’t tell him off the top of my head when the last car service date was. I do have to admit that my husband and I are both “organize freaks” and I’m pretty darn good at keeping things in order. However, it was one of those days (Mom’s you understand) where the 16 tasks I normally simultaneously perform weren’t working. And that’s when it happened. KABOOM! Arms waved, fingers pointed, trucker mouth exploded… it wasn’t pretty. Needless to say he handled the situation well by silently leaving a box of chocolates that he found in the kitchen cupboard at the door to the office while I finished writing the following.
I am Thomas’s wife…
I have advanced degrees in early childhood education, accounting, public relations, automobile mechanics, landscape design, interior design, culinary arts, photography, psychology, computer maintenance, chemical engineering, Jewish History and Swahili. I also read minds.
I am Thomas’s wife. Of course I am responsible that you have worked for 12 hours, that your meetings ran late and that your coffee got cold. Also that you were under the impression that when you would finally arrive home late at night, that you would be presented with a 3 course meal accompanied by the finest selection of imported beer and wines, have your mail waiting for you in the office, be welcomed with freshly laundered towels, have a fully fed, squeaky clean, little sleepy but happy to see her Daddy 17 month old daughter waiting at the door and a sexy wife ready to report her daily task accomplishments.
It wouldn’t be a problem for me to create a diverse weekly menu, shop a many grocery stores to get the best deals, dust, vacuum and mop the house, restock toiletries, linens, diapers, baby wipes, and beer, finish all laundry, weed, feed and water the garden & hanging baskets, not to mention water the indoor plants, scrub the bathroom showers and sinks, change bed linens all while entertaining, feeding, nurturing, bathing, and bonding with our high maintenance yet loving daughter during my 9th month of pregnancy. I do this with joy even when I’m carrying around your soon to be 8lb son who likes to substitute my uterus as a punching bag.
I am Thomas’s wife. I am expected to know dates….. expiry dates on all perishable items in the house, due dates of all bill payments, birthdays, anniversaries, Dr. and Dentist appointments, our last car service date oh and yes to have full detailed knowledge of all car, house and appliance warranties and policies. Give me a second and I will tell you our car’s VIN numbers, passport issue dates, instructions on recording home video to DVD, dates and times of our daughter’s past medical vaccinations, oh and what the final score was the night Manchester Untied won the European cup in 1999.
I am Thomas’s wife. I understand that your responsibility as the Hotel Manager requires you to work all day at the office, catch up on e-mails at home every evening and make numerous phone calls on the weekends leaving less than desired time to spend with your family. So when I am saying that I do not have time to get everything completed on my own I am lying. It is not a problem to juggle my careers of cooking, cleaning, parenting, cheerleading, car fixing, gardening, decorating and baby making. I can set aside all the time that I spend coupon clipping and washing my hair to become more productive.
I am Thomas’s wife, a personal secretary, gofer, chef, housekeeper, gardener, mother, computer technician, postman, painter, life coach, weather expert, human jukebox, TV repairman, and bloody Santa Claus (where’s my milk and cookies). AND I do know when the builder will be planting the tree in our front yard I’m just not telling you.
2 weeks before my son was born
I am Thomas’s wife. I always know where to find the cheapest deals, who to negotiate with, when to visit during slow times and how many rolls of toilet paper we have left in the house. I take personal blame for lack of talent in Canadian TV sitcoms, traffic jams, grass which needs cutting again and Timmy’s Ice Cap machine breakdowns.
I am Thomas’s wife. I am expected to smile, inspire, perform, create, organize, and complete any task that I am given – all while maintaining beautifully manicured nails and toes, up-to-date hair rinse colouring and smoothly shaved legs and waxed bikini line.
I do all these things and love it.
It’s been 6 years since I wrote down my frustrations and looking back today I can see that I’ve learned a few things.
1. What the hell was I thinking? No wonder my nickname is Marthamel. No I am not Martha Stewart.
2. Got my cleaning schedule all wrong. I changed my approach to what’s called “let him clean too”. Amazing how effective it is.
3. Hydration. Must stay hydrated. Vodka soda works best for me.