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It Happened to Me

If the seventeen year old version of myself could see me now, she'd probably puke all over herself. She was the girl who knew exactly what she wanted, and was going to get out of life. And, until just a few years ago -she was pretty dang accurate.

A few years ago, I had a very full time job. I was a modern, independent, working woman who finished her college education before getting married. Eventually, I did find and marry Mr. Right.” The one who can cook, clean, sew, and iron; the one who encourages me to continue my education and to have Girl's Nights Out. The one, who has the proper view of what a woman should do and should be, which is:

Whatever she darn well pleases.

Seriously Ladies, I never couldda married a guy who thought my place was in the kitchen, or ironing his clothes.Not long after we were married, I came across
THIS and I thought: WOW. Glad I don't live in the '50's.

It kind of reminded me of my Young Women's leader growing up, the one
I had for six solid years, which was Divine Intervention if you ask me. She was the perfect little Modern Molly Homemaker. She'd get herself up early (as in E-A-R-L-Y) to pack her Hubby's lunch and give him a kiss before he left for the day. She had homemade dinners on the table every night, and her hobbies included things like sewing quilts, curtains, and Prom dresses. Making bread. Canning Jam. Gardening. Her house was always clean. AND, did I mention, she was a Kindergarten teacher too?

Seriously. I'm not making any of this up. The seventeen year old version of me thought she was either stupid, or crazy, and couldn't decide which.

So, let's fast forward to now. Through a series of circumstances I find myself in a place I never wanted to be. In fact, I was quite harsh in my judgments of women like me, once upon a time, when I was seventeen, and even more recently than that.

You see, I'm not working and I don't have any babies to validate my unemployed status. Both of these are not my fault. I mean, I've applied to just about every place I could think of, with the exception of McDonalds and Taco Bell, and Hubby and I have been working on that whole “having a baby” thing for over two years now….

But nothing seems to be working.

And the modern and independent girl in me hated the feeling of uselessness and decided to really play up the housewife thing.

And one morning, not too long ago, as I spread mayonnaise on Hubby's ham sandwich, I realized, that I have become just like her. I own a sewing machine, I even (sometimes) use it. I send Hubby off in a morning with a kiss, and I have another one waiting for him when he gets home.

I've canned chicken and jam, and soon the tomatoes that I've grown in the garden. I stay on top of the laundry (mostly), the cleaning, and the shopping. If, fifteen minutes before Hubby gets home, I still haven't gotten my face on and actual clothing, then I take that time to get it done. AND I make dinner (at least 80% of the time) while he unwinds with the help of ESPN.

When our neighbors moved in across the street, I had a sincere desire to make a Jell-O mold, and take it to her in heels and pearls. I've become a housewife of the 1950's and you know what?

I like it.

Enjoy shopping for quality baby clothing at

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