The Perfect Housewife

Yes, that's me.

I wish.

I measure the success of my days in terms of how well I've met my own severe standards of what a perfect wife, mother and home-maker would be like.

So, if I am home all day, like today, I have very high expectations of myself.

1.Laundry under control.

2.The teens in my home will be meeting their educational targets.

3.Everything in the house spic and span.

4.Cooking for tonight and also for the freezer.

5.Planning meals and budget.

6.Staying out of the fridge and NOT snacking.

7.Exercising.

8.Looking neat and attractive for my husband when he gets home.

Instead, this is the situation today:

1.Overflowing laundry basket, despite having done 2 loads. Maybe I need a bigger basket?

2.One teen recovering from tummy bug from yesterday and lying around reading and watching a movie and generally looking pale and getting underfoot. The other taking advantage of her brother's illness to have a 'lite' day herself.

3.Since no housework was done yesterday, Sunday, which is usually one of our busiest days, the house looks like the home of the Seven Dwarves after a bunch of woodland creatures have come in and rampaged through it, strewing clothing, bedding and dirty dishes everywhere. Sort of the evil version of the Snow White Animals.

4.I did do a bit of baking which merely resulted in more dishes piled up on the kitchen counters waiting to be washed.

5.I also did plan this week's meals and grocery shopping, but now there are recipe books piled around the living room. This activity also necessitated at least an hour at Hillbillyhousewife.com and printing out recipes. Our printer went wrong so now there are also lots of half-printed bits of paper all over my desk.

6.I couldn't stay out of the fridge completely as I WAS cooking you know, and I didn't manage to stop myself from snacking, but I've not been as bad as usual.

7.My only exercise has been running upstairs occasionally to go to the loo, but I don't think that counts.

8.Oh dear, I really must do something about my hair before Jamie gets home and probably brushing my teeth might make me more attractive too.

You see? If my ideal perfect housewife was a 10, I'd be a 1 today. So why on earth do I measure myself against that ideal anyway?

Off I go now, into the dread reality of my life, I need to wash dishes, hang laundry, encourage my children, brush my teeth, work on my home-business, try to get my kids' gym-class finances straight which I managed to mess up, return some emails and make some buttermilk coleslaw. And I'm going to do all that in the next 2 1/2 hours.

I am, you know.