June 7, 2010

A Good Wife

Posted in Fun Stuff tagged , , at 9:21 am by autismmommytherapist

I need a wife.

If my grandmother were alive to read this post she would probably have rolled her eyes, stared aghast at these paragraphs, and most likely have been horrified by my declaration, but I stand by my words. I do indeed need a wife, preferably one right out of 1950, complete with beehive hairdo and immaculate apron (that she donned just prior to gleefully serving dinner to my family). She doesn’t have to do windows, talk (that would actually be a plus), or even particularly enjoy her job. I simply require someone who will willingly run my errands, fold our laundry, make my phone calls, clean, cook three separate meals for me, my husband, and my two children, and if it were possible, work-out for me as well. This way I can continue to accomplish the things I actually do enjoy in my life- taking care of my kids, writing my damn blog, and doing therapy (once a teacher, always a teacher).

I don’t think it’s too much to ask.

When we lived in Virginia my husband and I were fortunate enough to reside in close proximity to several couples who also lived far from their birth families, and over time, we became surrogate families to one another. This in part was due to the fact that we all had children at a perilously old age (well, okay, I did), so had been able to reap the benefits of a childless existence together for almost a decade out of college. We had time to bond, stay out too late, get lost in DC, and partake of all the crazy experiences twenty and thirty-something couples sans children can engage in that make them friends for life.

As I am fond of saying, good times.

Eventually we all capitulated to our reproductive organs, and while we were still able to see one another (fortunately our two closest couples’ friends had the most compliant firstborns ever conceived), of course over time it became more challenging to schedule get-togethers. At no point did this endeavor become more difficult than after my son was born (clearly NOT of compliant ilk), the child who had a penchant for screaming in his car seat (unless he was sleeping in it) or bellowing at anyone invading his home to whom he was not genetically related. We gave it our best shot, sometimes braving his ire because it was infinitely preferable to me than being caged in our home EVEN ONE MORE MINUTE, but in general, our collective outings sucked. Eventually my husband and I reigned in our socializing, and I subsequently began to notice the slow decline of my capacity to correctly utilize multi-syllabic words.

Seven years later, that ability has just begun to come back. Sorry new moms.

On one particular night, Jeff and I had managed to summon the courage to leave our little screamer with a sitter and venture out with one of our favorite couples. Over the course of chips and salsa and a copious variety of fruit-flavored margaritas my girlfriend and I lamented our inability to see each other as often. We decided even with three kids between us (and one that counted as four) what really precluded us from having more frequent dates were the chores, errands, and garden-variety drudgery that sucked up our time. If we could just get a handle on the minutiae of life we’d be able to process things better (well, maybe that was wishful thinking on our parts) and focus on seeing each other more often. We both laughed, and agreed that our prospects for that scenario occurring were doubtful unless we had more help. Hence, after sampling both the raspberry and the strawberry margarita (who among us could actually choose?), the concept of the wife was born (we both agreed we’d also settle for Alice from the Brady Bunch, she of the eternally calm demeanor and exquisite multi-tasking skills that kept that entire needy blended family in line).

I still need her now.

No, I’m not considering replicating the family in Big Love, although the thought of foisting my children on responsible people on occasion while sharing my husband isn’t always that unpalatable a concept. After all, is communal child-rearing and having a few nights off to read and attend to my cuticles really so wrong?

Legally, I guess it is.

So, as I try to shove twenty hours of working into the ten I actually have available to me on a weekly basis I will continue to mourn for my wife, or at the very least, some facsimile of Alice. If you know anyone who’s well-suited for the job and would be thrilled to work solely for the unparalled joy of my bountiful praise, please feel free to let me know.

I may have to fight for her. And I suspect that in my all-consuming desire for a wife-proxy, I am most emphatically not alone.

17 Comments »

  1. Jina said,

    I am often tempted to place an ad on Craigslist to find this special wife for my family.

  2. jeanne said,

    You are totally not alone. I’ve been dying for a wife for at least 14 years. In fact, I was thinking this very thought this morning as I realized that I had to reschedule my 14yr old’s annual physical (which I had miraculously remembered to schedule 3 months ago in a fit of unheard and never to be repeated of organization on my part). Have you ever tried to schedule an annual physical in the weeks before school ends and summer camp begins?

    I think that the odds of winning the powerball lottery are better.

    I still think that there are millions to be made in the “rent-a-wife” business. I just need a wife to take care of all of the day-to-day crap in my life so that I have the time to develop a viable business plan.

    • Scheduling that physical could only be more difficult if you waited until August to try to get her in there before Sept. Good luck my friend.

      I am over crap, of every kind. If I come up with a solution, I will most certainly share.

  3. LZ said,

    Pfft…I’ve been looking for a few years now, but no such luck. If you find one, ask her if she has a west coast sister!! Hmm…or perhaps a brother in my case….

  4. AutismTreatment said,

    Have you checked out the Autism Treatment Center of America? We have some great resources for parents of children with Autism, and a really great online community of families for support via our Facebook page – http://www.facebook.com/autismtreatment

  5. Mom said,

    In the seventies when we marched and petitioned for women’s rights, wanting to have a wife was a common theme. Feminists expressed it to give value to what we did, not only in terms of money, but in terms of day to day calmness and organization. Clearly with a more complex society 30 some years later, and the complexity and intensity of having special needs kids, the “wife” concept takes on an even more important meaning and necessity. My generation never found an answer either–here’s hoping yours does! Love, Mom

  6. Kathy Milmore said,

    I really think everyone needs a good wife… I would even consider being adopted and having a mother take care of me instead!

  7. misifusa said,

    I want a ‘wife’ too! Perhaps we should start a business! 🙂

  8. Meg said,

    My comment must have ended up in your spam queue because I included a hyperlink… but I wanted to weigh in to say I soo get this. I blogged on the same theme a while back – at the time my husband and I were struggling to figure out how we were going to both work and tackle a long list of must-do’s in the home, while still spending time with the kids. It’s daunting at best, this whole work-life balance thing.

    • Hey Meg! No, I think the first one ended up on Facebook, which I think (don’t hold me to it!) I responded to. Would love to read what you wrote, will get there. Responding on the blog helps me, Facebook doesn’t. Glad we’ve reconnected, you sound like you’re doing well! Thanks for reading/responding, I truly appreciate it!

  9. Anita said,

    The really sad part is that all the extra stuff we do not only sucks away our time but also leaves us feeling as if time is passing us by. Every day I say where does the time go?? I can’t even judge time anymore – I seem to perpetually run late! I’ll never forget I was lamenting to my dad about how fast the months fly by & he says, “Months? For me it’s YEARS!”


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