transitions

the fifties


I went to college and got one of those degrees where if you don’t get your masters it’s about as good as a liberal arts degree and your job options have little to do with all of that blood and sweat you put into your papers. After I got married I spent a few years in the unfulfilling role as “administrative assistant”. Apparently I can only handle having to keep track of one man’s schedule, my husband’s, because after only a few long months of playing solitare on my computer and mindlessly re-reading news letters I wanted to scream “get you own damn coffee!!”.

So when my husband got a new job and I found out I was pregnant we figured it was time for me to stay at home and become, gulp, a “house wife”. I wasn’t sad to leave the work force and was actually pretty excited to become (insert super hero music), the most amazing home engineer this side of the mississippi.

My Grammy had six children plus fostered who knows how many others, my mom had three and didn’t get a job outside of the home untill we were all in school. They’re both known for their hospitality and cooking skills and there is never a single thing out of place at my mom’s house so I figured hey if they could do it with multiple children I could certainly do it with a smaller house and only one child.

I have this love of the 1950’s, the warm homes, home made meals, and checkerd aprons. It just seems so wholesome and right you know, the mom with home baked cookies waiting for her kids after school. That is how I envisioned my life as a stay-at-home mom. Now I am sure that those of you who are already at home with your kids or are in the midst of that infant stage, are laughing you heads off; I’m glad someone is…

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