As the first day of 2009 comes to a close, I am facing the unknown. I’m recently 31, living at my parents’ house with my husband and baby, have no job and no prospects. In other words, things are looking GREAT. And by great, I mean completely my worst nightmare.
What started out as a great way to save some money after welcoming Declan into our family has now become a storyline on “Reba.” Or possible the entire premise of “Reba,” I’m not sure. I don’t watch it, I just catch commericals in between “Golden Girls” and “Will and Grace” episodes on Lifetime (I try to bypass “Frasier,” it bores me). Paul and I gave up our little condo over the summer to move into the monster home my mom and stepdad decided on a whim to buy a couple of years ago as a way for us to save money and probably for them to justify the purchase. And so far, it’s been nice. We have tons of space, Declan is spoiled rotten and we’ve actually paid down some bills while I’ve worked part time in a job I LOVED. And then 2 weeks before Christmas, I became victim to the shit economy and backwards tax plan of the fine State of Tennessee and was told that my contract was not being renewed. I feel confident that could be a plot line on some sitcom, but I’m too pissed about it to find the humor.
So while I’m waiting on my unemployment benefits to (hopefully) kick in, I’ve decided to dump my brain on the internet and hope somebody wants to pay me for my insights. Crazier things have happened, right? I mean, “Reba” is still on the air, and I know I’m funnier than that crap.
So here’s where it begins. I’m now a stay-at-home-mom in my parents’ house who is going to try and justify my addiction to the Internet as a career in writing. I’m trying to be proactive and positive, because I have never desired to be a SAHM (get used to some lingo, I gotta work fast), whether I’m in my own home or not. I wouldn’t exactly call myself domestic. I would actually call myself pretty lazy and very spoiled. There, I said it. Paul enjoys cooking, so he does most of it. And by most of it, I mean I’ve made Bisquick biscuits a time or two and I have a mean chicken pot pie recipe I break out occasionally, but that’s about it. He also does the laundry. And cleans the cat litter. And vacuums. Seriously, I am really lazy. But I do the grunt work with Declan, which I guess is a trade off, but it sure doesn’t seem that way when you type it out. But I promised Paul that while I’m on the doll, I will take over ALL domestic duties. And I’m going to clip coupons and meal plan and anything else I can to make up for my meager but still relevant missing salary.
And that’s going to be the focus of my blog. A 31-year-old intellectual snob with a precious child and wonderful husband who suddenly has to earn her keep. I’m going to throw myself into the world of domestic bliss and I’m going to do it 100%. And when I fail, which I predict will be often, especially at first, I’m going to lay it out here for the world to read.
Starting tomorrow, my career begins again. I now get to focus all my attention on my precious Declan and my ever-patient Paul, which is a role I know many women would give anything to attain. I am giving up my life as a working mom to enlist in the ranks of the Domestic Goddesses, a title I’ve never desired but will wear with pride. As long as I don’t have to iron a uniform. I really don’t iron.