The Toxic Housewife

Once I got married, I assumed my dating days were over. I figured I'd never again have the reduced self-esteem, the chronic self-doubt, or the fatigue that comes hand-in-hand with all those sleepless nights kicking myself for saying something stupid or being too eager or not being eager enough . I had found my partner, so The Dating Game was over . Boy, was I wrong. Now that I am a full-time, at home mother, I have begun to try to ooze my way into A Playgroup. This has been something I've looked forward to since becoming pregnant: hanging out with other parents, gathering tips, bitching and crying together as our little hellions tear up each other's houses and terrorize domesticated animals. But gathering a playgroup is hard . People aren't as sociable as they used to be: they tend to eye you with suspicion if you run up to them on the street and -- quivering and blubbering -- beg to be friends.

Bee and I just celebrated our four-year wedding anniversary. Which is like twenty-eight years, if you're 1) a dog or 2) a working-class couple with two (at the time) jobs, two mortgages, a teenager and a toddler. I'm actually not complaining. And I adore being married, despite how my previous statement may sound. It's just, doesn't it sometimes seem like you just got married yesterday, but at the same time, you're so comfortable with your life that it could have been ten years ago? We celebrated our anniversary by not celebrating. Truth be told, our month anniversaries, the ones we celebrate on the 6 th , are more significant to us than our wedding anniversaries. And since our wedding anniversary comes just three days after one of those month anniversaries, it kind of snuck up on us. “I didn't get you anything,” Bee warned me the day before.

Fantastic news: I haven't gone stir-crazy yet!! I've had a pretty fun week, hanging out with Mr. C and and doing house-wifely things in my own, Toxic House-wifely manner. I finished sewing a diaper cover for Mr. C out of an old pair of jeans, for instance. Unfortunately, since I'm a terrible seamstress, the jeans are ever-so-slightly lopsided, not too mention the fact that they're a little too narrow between the legs, which results in the cloth diaper peeking out quite a bit more than is necessary (or sanitary). Thankfully, Mr. C is not particularly fashion-conscious yet, and Bee really isn't fashion conscious (unless one considers knee-length shorts, navy socks pulled firmly to one's calves, paint-spattered shoes, and a large straw rancher's hat to be fashionable). Therefore, the only person embarrassed by the pathetic attempt at a diaper cover is me, but I'm too proud of it to be overly-humiliated. I also cooked several dinners this week. And I m...

As of 5 p.m. today, I am officially a full-time mother, and not a 40-hour-a-week professional. I have been building up to this moment for over two years now, though it has only been about four months since Bee and I decided to actually make it happen. Since turning in my resignation four weeks ago, I've felt a little nervous about our decision, but mostly I have been excited. As of 5:00 this morning, however, I've been terrified. It's a difficult thing, in this current economic climate, to willingly give up a stable job and depend on Bee's consumer-driven business as our sole source of income. It's a difficult thing to give up a satisfying career I've had for ten years, knowing full well that I will never get it back (and that's not just dr amatics). When your career has so fully defined you for so long, it's easy to feel los t when it's gone. How will I introduce myself to people and still sound interesting ? It's a d...