Don’t we all strive for domestic tranquility? And how many of us find it?

My house is goofy. Nothing that happens here will be found in child rearing books or discussed in marriage seminars. Our shit is unique. Just like everyone else.

So what needs to happen for domestic tranquility to take place? No yelling, meals always ready, bedtime comes naturally? I doubt it. NO matter what, someone in the house suffers.

I don’t know about you guys but I am sick of fucking cooking. I swear that my family eats more than a small country in Africa and I’m the big sucker that’s stuck behind the stove heating up the slop.

Now don’t get me wrong. I am not culinary challenged, in fact I whip up some pretty good shit, but seriously, can someone in this house make a meal without completely destroying the kitchen. Or hey, I have an idea, how about you make some food and have enough for ME, instead of just making enough to feed your hungry gullet. And hey, geniuses, we aren’t rich, so if you see some sort of meat in the fridge, I have most likely put it there to be used in some upcoming creation for your fat asses, not for you to pilfer part of and cook up for yourself just because you’re starving after your long hard day at school and I’m not anywhere to be found.There’s most likely a reason you can’t find me, so eat a bowl of cereal.

And ya know what? If I make it, there is no room for anyone to complain. This isn’t a fucking restaurant and you are a shitty tipper. Eat what I put in front of you and shut the hell up. Because more often than not, it isn’t processed, I chopped everything with my own two hands and there are a lot of starving kids in the world.

Just to give everyone an idea of what my evenings look like….My “family” doesn’t eat together. Yeah, yeah, I know, we’re doomed for family court. Not likely since family court is what brought us here in the first place. But I digress. My lovely devil spawns eat one meal and my husband eats another. No one likes anyone else and so this leaves me with only a couple of options. Sit down to every meal in a state of panic that someone will say something that will piss someone else off? No thank you. Or I make two meals at night. Joy. I sometimes forget to eat all together because after slaving over the stove for two meals I just want to sit the fuck down. So I have this very strange consumption schedule that entails me nibbling on crap while I cook. Sometimes I actually sit down and eat with one of the two groups but I seriously would much rather just go sit in the bathroom.

I think its time that everyone in the house starting pitching in. I’m proposing that the kids both get jobs so we can hire a cook and a housekeeper. Then I’ll just sit on my ass and eat bon-bons all day.

Sounds like a plan to me.

I totally do not want to ever have to work for someone again. There I said it.

This all stems from the events of the last year. I was laid off from a private design firm after 15 years of loyal service. I made a pretty penny for a silly girl with no degree and was, at the time, supporting my household almost exclusively. My husband was is school full time and working but his income just basically covered gas and a few groceries. Needless to say I was devestated when I got the news from my boss.

Holy FUCK how am I going to pay for shit!

I sat down with my husband and we talked about it. Novel theory I know but it seems to work.

Anyway, I filed for unemployment, which if I didn’t claim any taxes turned out to cover our mortgage and a couple of bills. My husband picked up some shifts at the restaurant and I applied to the state for food assistance. All the moons aligned and I found that our house could get by WITHOUT me working. I felt kind of guilty at the beginning (I was laid off in June and the prospect of spending uninterrupted days at the beach made my giggle to myself uncontrollably) but after awhile, I settled into a routine that ensured that my husband was happy. The way I saw it, if he was happy there would be no talk of me getting a job. And man was I right. I swear the older I get the more I realize I am a fucking wise broad.

Then the state said no more food help, you fools should be just fine on your income and I panicked again. Then I sat down and thought about it. I just need to cover these costs. I can do that through cash work. I don’t have to be forced to work for some other nimrod that would just take advantage of me. So I set out to be an entrepreneur. I clean toilets for money. Not glamorous at all but it pays decent, I work when I want and if I don’t feel like doing anything that day I don’t. The way I see it, it’s a pretty good gig. Plus it’s way less stressful than slingin’ dope.

My husband has since graduated and will be starting a very high paying job as an investment banker next year. I’m in law school because I have a sick desire to overachieve so one day I will be back in the ranks of the working but the goal would be to work for myself rather than a boss. But until that time that I am a licensed, degreed, “real” adult I want to continue to just do what pleases me. To relish that sweet time right after everyone leaves for the day, kids to school, husband off into the world. Which leaves me alone at home enjoying one of the things I enjoy the most….Silence.

I’ve never seen a full page laxative ad (but I also don’t read Parents, Parenting, Working Parent, or Scare Me About Something I Hadn’t Heard About That May Kill My Kid magazines…so maybe that’s why…)

But what on earth were they feeding kids in 1941 that they were giving kids laxatives so…often? Even better, did people really used to live in neighborhoods where the school nurse walked by on the street…or knew that much about children other than how to dole out medication?

The funniest part for me is #3 in the list of medical background info. “has little tendancy to cause irritation or constipation after use” – I would sure as hell hope the laxative wouldn’t cause constipation.

Ok – maybe not all of them, but I sure as hell am.

Seriously though, if you try and convince me that you are able to keep your house clean, interact with your children effectively, not keep the television on all day, plus you’re the most successful mommy on the block with your business…

…I call bullshit.

You either have a maid, nanny, husband not working, or you’re lying about your business success. (Or all of the above.) You know how I know that? Because sister, something’s gotta give.

There are 24 hours in a day, and everything we choose to do takes some amount of time. I cannot feed my kids a meal in less than ten minutes – no matter what. It takes at least a half-hour to fill the dishwasher, put soap in, and hit “clean.”

Now it might not take you the same amount of time it takes me to do things, but you know what I’m saying here, everything takes time.

On days when I have more work than time, the television is on all day. You know why? Because I have to get shit done, that’s why. But then having to turn around and hear some self-righteous WAHM try and spout off about how she made food from scratch while teaching her children how to add and subtract from birth while being rock-star successful and getting twelve new clients? No. Way. But you can’t go spouting off at the little angel or her cadre of wannabes will attack you and give you the litany of “how dare you”s for having the audacity to question the honesty of the statements.

I’m not jealous, either. I work from home very successfully – I just know that there are sacrifices I have to make every day – with every new level of success come more sacrifices. The more meetings I have to be on over the phone, the more I stagger when my kids eat so I know they are hungry – and their little mouths will be full and quiet – when that call happens. I’m not starving my kids, but they may not get fed the very minute they realize they are hungry.

Sure it sounds kind of shitty to deny the kids food for an hour, but you know what, if I don’t take those calls they don’t get fed at all. What do you think is better for their overall sense of well being and self-esteem? Living in a car and scoring food from food banks? I think not.

My only real fear is that I won’t know when it’s time to back off and plateau for a minute. I don’t want to keep sacrificing more and more and more until I don’t know what my kids look like, but I also want them to have a great life, and hearing people say that all my kids need is my love aned time…well…I had lots of love and time from my mom and I’m still bitter I didn’t get a pony, so yeah, way to look back with that nostalgic hindsight.

Image Credit: graphiteBP