I’m not doing much these days. I wake up when Ryan leaves for school, say goodbye, pull out my laptop, and proceed to do “blog research” from bed until about noon. Then I tumble into the shower, spend good twenty-thirty minutes on getting dressed, and stumble into the kitchen, where I make myself an overly elaborate brunch that gets eaten in front of the TV. Around 4pm I wander back into the kitchen to start chopping and prepping stuff for dinner, which is on the table by 7 or 8. I then lay in bed and watch a movie with Ryan, or do crosswords until midnight when he has to go to sleep. This is my life. I have become a housewife.
Now, mind you, I’m not married. I am happily partnered up but I retain some semblance of independence in my life choices…or do I? My partner sure isn’t a housewife, so there’s a difference right there. And I know, given the opportunity, that we’d both be able to very quickly outline exactly how different we are. He likes vanilla, I like chocolate. He likes Boards of Canada, I like Bruce Springsteen. He likes to get ahead, I use the urgency of impending deadlines to force myself to focus (aka I sleep till noon and watch Top Chef Masters marathons all day until I literally have twenty minutes to do all my homework, shower, eat, and drive to my class which is 25 minutes away….oops).
But the real question isn’t whether or not I am a housewife, it’s whether I want to be one. As everyone from the US Army to Popeye to my mother tells me, I should be who I be and be that completely. And quite frankly, of course I want to be a housewife. I can’t think of a more enjoyable, easy life for myself. I love to cook for others, I love cleaning (yep, it’s true), and I love the feeling of satisfaction when I’m thanked and loved in return by the fella I’m serving. But there’s this little voice that keeps popping up too, and it’s the voice that says, “Don’t Settle.”
Don’t get too comfortable. Don’t relax for long. Work hard. You can always work harder. You can always be more. You can always rise above. And somehow being a housewife doesn’t quite satisfy that voice. This life makes me too happy, too relaxed. It’s too easy. There’s always been a restless part of me that craves adventure and change and discovery, and changing up the dinner menu every night doesn’t quite seem like enough. I want to serve MANY, not just my partner. I want to spread that satisfaction to the furthest reaches of the globe. So I’m not exactly happy with this life, not yet. It’s like a big bowl of soup, with nothing but broth in the bowl. Satisfying, delicious, healthy–but boring. I need some spice! I need some greens and homemade noodles and chunks of carrots! I need some garlicky bread to sop it up!
So this blog is a way to start. If a few people’s meals are brightened, inspired, or improved by some of the recipes on here, I know I’ll feel more connected. More sure, more sharing. More satisfied with my own life. I’ll love better, live better, eat sweeter. Hopefully.
Right now I gotta go though, Barefoot Contessa is on.
(images courtesy of vintagehousewife and I Love Lucy) (inspired by deargolden)