Long before I got married and started a family, I worried about what would happen to me once I did. What would happen to me -- my identity, the whatever-it-is that distinguishes me from every other being on the planet. I feared that Laurisa would morph into his wife and their mother, and that I would somehow vanish into that distinctly female world of "I have no life of my own."
Then I got married. I had children, and things happened as predicted, but with an odd, wonderful sort of twist. Instead of my identity vanishing, it expanded. I am still very much Laurisa, but I am also Gonzalo's wife and the mother of five children. I am, in fact, so many different things, like how a patchwork quilt's design is only enhanced by the addition of different patterns and colors.
Having said all that, however, there are times (every night just about bedtime, actually) when I yearn to just be me again, if only for a few moments. In fact, I call this time of day "Me Time" and my kids and husband know that from about 10-11pm they are not to intrude. This is the time when I prop my netbook on my lap, turn down the lights, and write.
Every wife and mother ought to have something that she does that is for her and her alone - something that brings her pleasure - something she does not have to share with anyone else - something that does not require someone else's approval or compromise or self-sacrifice of any kind. It might be knitting, or genealogy, or reading, or exercise, or sewing, or art, or whatever. We women tend to spend so much of our time supporting our families and keeping up the house and helping make ends meet that it is far too easy to lose "me" in the process.
Keeping this in mind, The Haggard Housewife is going to veer in a slightly different direction. I am a housewife and a mother, but I am also a writer. So, expect to see more posts that incorporate that fundamental element of "me" from now on. And in the meantime, I hope each of you takes a little time out for your "me" too.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Addicted Moms
I heard about this article from Working Mothers Magazine while listening to the radio the other day - more and more mothers are using alcohol and drugs to deal with the ever increasing demands of every day life. http://www.workingmother.com/BestCompanies/special-report/2010/10/addicted-moms-drink-drugs
While the article focuses on moms who work in high profile professions, moms that otherwise appear to have it all together, I think it is a wake up call for all moms across America.
Hearing stats like "1 out of every 4 kids has an alcoholic parent" is enough to make me cry.
I am a stay-at-home mom and proud of it, but being a full-time mom has its fair share of stress. I never have enough time to clean my house, keep up with the laundry, or fulfill all my duties as school and church volunteer. I go to be each night completely exhausted, and yes, I all too often feel like I'm going to lose it - and sometimes I do - for an hour or two, until my daughter comes to my rescue with that contraband 1 lb. bag of M&Ms.
So I can't even begin to comprehend how a mother can balance a full-time job AND all the responsibilities of being a wife and mother. There is simply nothing funny about the corporate powerhouse mom who died along with most of her children in a car accident because she was drunk and high.
I have to wonder if this is what the Women's Rights Movement intended. Yes, we women can have it all, do it all, but at what price? I for one don't want it all, don't need it all. I get stress. I get pressure. I get depression. That's part of being a human being living a human life, but if our lives are so busy, so "together" that we're really falling apart, then what we're really doing is throwing it all away.
What soothes my nerves best at the end of a hectic day is not a cup of wine or a pill, but spending half an hour with my two-year-old on my lap reading through a stack of picture books. Oh, and that extra handful of M&Ms doesn't hurt...does it?
While the article focuses on moms who work in high profile professions, moms that otherwise appear to have it all together, I think it is a wake up call for all moms across America.
Hearing stats like "1 out of every 4 kids has an alcoholic parent" is enough to make me cry.
I am a stay-at-home mom and proud of it, but being a full-time mom has its fair share of stress. I never have enough time to clean my house, keep up with the laundry, or fulfill all my duties as school and church volunteer. I go to be each night completely exhausted, and yes, I all too often feel like I'm going to lose it - and sometimes I do - for an hour or two, until my daughter comes to my rescue with that contraband 1 lb. bag of M&Ms.
So I can't even begin to comprehend how a mother can balance a full-time job AND all the responsibilities of being a wife and mother. There is simply nothing funny about the corporate powerhouse mom who died along with most of her children in a car accident because she was drunk and high.
I have to wonder if this is what the Women's Rights Movement intended. Yes, we women can have it all, do it all, but at what price? I for one don't want it all, don't need it all. I get stress. I get pressure. I get depression. That's part of being a human being living a human life, but if our lives are so busy, so "together" that we're really falling apart, then what we're really doing is throwing it all away.
What soothes my nerves best at the end of a hectic day is not a cup of wine or a pill, but spending half an hour with my two-year-old on my lap reading through a stack of picture books. Oh, and that extra handful of M&Ms doesn't hurt...does it?
Thursday, October 21, 2010
RAIN, RAIN
I admit it - I am not the best housekeeper in the world. Sadly, if I were to keep a prioritized list, cleaning my house would tie with exercise for last place. Yup, I've got cobwebs in my ceiling corners, dust on the tops of my picture frames, and all sorts of treasures stashed beneath my sofas. (Kids, where IS that video we checked out from the library a month ago????)
I do clean once in a while - when I'm not spending hours a day in my car or desperately trying to catch up on the laundry (yeah, right!) - and when I do, I usually pick some task that has been ignored for so long that I have to carve out a good portion of my day to deal with it.
Friday I decided to tackle my living room carpet. It's one of those 6X8 rugs that you find displayed outside of Wal-Mart once in a while, nothing too fancy but affordable. Of course, it's a magnet for every speck of dust and dirt in the entire house and looks grungy most of the time. I do vacuum it, but it doesn't seem to help much. That's probably because every time I buy a new vacuum, I just can't bring myself to spend more money than I did on the last one and always end up with the second to last cheapest vacuum Wal-Mart offers. (Second to last so I feel like I'm not leaving with a totally worthless piece of machinery.)
Well, Friday I vacuumed and it didn't make much of a difference. What to do? In the "old days" people used to hang their carpets outside and beat them, right? Okay - sounded good to me. I rolled it up, dragged it out onto the front porch, and draped it over a wall. But I had nothing with which to beat it (closest I could come to those old wire beaters was a coat hanger). True to form, I decided to deal with it later.
The next day was Saturday and I was too busy to deal with it. The day went by and as night fell, guess what? Yup, it started to rain. Not just any rain - thunder and lightening and major downpour kind of rain. And it's been raining ever since.
So I've got this soaking wet Wal-Mart rug hanging in my front yard. Can't bring it in until it's dried and who knows how long that will take in this weather. According to one friend, at least all the dust will be washed away. Hmmm... This could be a silver lining to my otherwise black cloud - or I've just managed to procrastinate cleaning that rug until spring.
I do clean once in a while - when I'm not spending hours a day in my car or desperately trying to catch up on the laundry (yeah, right!) - and when I do, I usually pick some task that has been ignored for so long that I have to carve out a good portion of my day to deal with it.
Friday I decided to tackle my living room carpet. It's one of those 6X8 rugs that you find displayed outside of Wal-Mart once in a while, nothing too fancy but affordable. Of course, it's a magnet for every speck of dust and dirt in the entire house and looks grungy most of the time. I do vacuum it, but it doesn't seem to help much. That's probably because every time I buy a new vacuum, I just can't bring myself to spend more money than I did on the last one and always end up with the second to last cheapest vacuum Wal-Mart offers. (Second to last so I feel like I'm not leaving with a totally worthless piece of machinery.)
Well, Friday I vacuumed and it didn't make much of a difference. What to do? In the "old days" people used to hang their carpets outside and beat them, right? Okay - sounded good to me. I rolled it up, dragged it out onto the front porch, and draped it over a wall. But I had nothing with which to beat it (closest I could come to those old wire beaters was a coat hanger). True to form, I decided to deal with it later.
The next day was Saturday and I was too busy to deal with it. The day went by and as night fell, guess what? Yup, it started to rain. Not just any rain - thunder and lightening and major downpour kind of rain. And it's been raining ever since.
So I've got this soaking wet Wal-Mart rug hanging in my front yard. Can't bring it in until it's dried and who knows how long that will take in this weather. According to one friend, at least all the dust will be washed away. Hmmm... This could be a silver lining to my otherwise black cloud - or I've just managed to procrastinate cleaning that rug until spring.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
There's No Place Like Home
I recently returned from spending three glorious days at the SCBWI Writers Retreat in Ranch Palos Verdes, the first (yes first) overnight trip I've had ALONE in nearly eighteen years. You read correctly. ALONE. No kids. No husband. Just me for three days and two nights basking in the sunlight of solitude.
Of course, I wasn't really alone alone. There were about fifty of us, mostly women with a handful of men thrown in for diversity's sake, all gathered at the Mary & Joseph Retreat to mingle with like-minded peers. All of us were writers, some published, some not yet published, but all with aspirations of polishing our manuscripts in hopes of one day seeing our names in print.
We spent a total of ten hours over two days in critique groups, enjoyed excellent presentations by three of the publishing industry's top editors, and had plenty of time to mingle and muse at will.
The whole experience felt like one giant slumber party! My roommate and I, who had only met that weekend, stayed up to one-thirty in the morning both nights chattering away like two teenagers. What I enjoyed most was being able to eat a meal without interruption, carry on a conversation with other adults, to come and go as I please without having to tell anyone where I was going or when I'd return, to eat without having to prepare the food myself or wash the dishes, to enjoy a full night's rest in a bed all to myself and not wake up in the middle of the night to take care of anyone! It was the most fun I'd had in years. Fancy that.
And I spent hour after hour WRITING! It was sheer paradise. It is almost frightening how content I was at this retreat. I would make a perfect hermit.
Of course, when I came home, my five beautiful children threw themselves at my feet, sang praises to me, and pleaded with me to never leave them again. Or was that my husband?
Needless to say I am already looking forward to going back next year. Sorry honey.
Of course, I wasn't really alone alone. There were about fifty of us, mostly women with a handful of men thrown in for diversity's sake, all gathered at the Mary & Joseph Retreat to mingle with like-minded peers. All of us were writers, some published, some not yet published, but all with aspirations of polishing our manuscripts in hopes of one day seeing our names in print.
We spent a total of ten hours over two days in critique groups, enjoyed excellent presentations by three of the publishing industry's top editors, and had plenty of time to mingle and muse at will.
The whole experience felt like one giant slumber party! My roommate and I, who had only met that weekend, stayed up to one-thirty in the morning both nights chattering away like two teenagers. What I enjoyed most was being able to eat a meal without interruption, carry on a conversation with other adults, to come and go as I please without having to tell anyone where I was going or when I'd return, to eat without having to prepare the food myself or wash the dishes, to enjoy a full night's rest in a bed all to myself and not wake up in the middle of the night to take care of anyone! It was the most fun I'd had in years. Fancy that.
And I spent hour after hour WRITING! It was sheer paradise. It is almost frightening how content I was at this retreat. I would make a perfect hermit.
Of course, when I came home, my five beautiful children threw themselves at my feet, sang praises to me, and pleaded with me to never leave them again. Or was that my husband?
Needless to say I am already looking forward to going back next year. Sorry honey.
Friday, January 8, 2010
The Tennessee Trip
Tuesday my husband and two of my children took off for a week in Tennessee to visit relatives. My husband fretted and worried during the entire planning stage of this trip. What if something happens to me while I'm gone? How will you (me and the kids) make do? Do I really want to take two kids? What if, what if, what if... Of course, I just gently prodded him along reassuring him that the chance that he'd die in a plane crash or in a sudden winter storm was very unlikely, and even if he did, I am more than capable of taking care of things in his absence. I urged him to go and spend time with his brother. The kids would love seeing their cousins, and it was only a week, after all.
My husband hates traveling. He claims that he does not like being away from home and family. I never really understood that, especially in light of the fact that whenever he's around home and family he's usually in a grumpy mood. At times I wonder why he comes home from work at all. He seems happier at work than at home. And family vacations are sheer torture!
The funny thing was my husband actually suggested that ALL of us go to Tennessee. I had to restrain myself from laughing when he said it. Was he serious? I very gently reminded him that every time we go on vacation together, or even just out to dinner as a family, he always says the same thing: "Next time I suggest we do something or go somewhere as a family, remind me not to!" So I reminded him. "Honey," I said with a smile, "if we all go to Tennessee, WE will all have a great time, but YOU will be miserable."
So he only took two kids. Turns out the nine year old threw up on the plane - more than once. Mind you, in seventeen years of marriage my husband has never handled our children's vomit. Claiming a weak stomach, he usually steps out of the room and leaves me to handle the clean-up. I don't mind. We mothers have very strong stomachs. So, I have to admit I felt just the slightest twinge of satisfaction at hearing the news that my dear husband had to clean up after my son on the plane - and that he took it all in stride. Bravo!
All in all, I must admit that there was an underlying reason for my staying home while he went off to play in the Tennessee snow. While my husband hates to spend time away from the family - I LOVE IT!!!! Yep, Tuesday morning I kissed my husband and children good-bye, told them I love them and would miss them, and stood outside to watch them drive away. The moment they were out of sight I did a little dance, started singing to myself, and listed all the wonderful things I would enjoy in their absence: having my bed all to myself, throwing out whatever I want without having to justify it to anyone, watching a few movies without interruption, and going anywhere I please - again, without having to justify it to anyone! Heaven!
So here I am, oddly enough, watching my twelve-year-old sleeping soundly - in my bed. (My two teens and the toddler are home with me.) No, I didn't get my bed all to myself after all. And though I did watch two movies last night, I did it with my two year old jumping all over me and my son asking questions every two minutes. And I did take off on a spontaneous trip to Arizona, which made my husband furious when he found out and I still had to justify it, and it's day four of the Tennessee trip and I have nothing really to show for it. Well, that's not entirely true. I did throw out an old dresser and a broken high chair - and I didn't have to justify that to anyone!
My husband hates traveling. He claims that he does not like being away from home and family. I never really understood that, especially in light of the fact that whenever he's around home and family he's usually in a grumpy mood. At times I wonder why he comes home from work at all. He seems happier at work than at home. And family vacations are sheer torture!
The funny thing was my husband actually suggested that ALL of us go to Tennessee. I had to restrain myself from laughing when he said it. Was he serious? I very gently reminded him that every time we go on vacation together, or even just out to dinner as a family, he always says the same thing: "Next time I suggest we do something or go somewhere as a family, remind me not to!" So I reminded him. "Honey," I said with a smile, "if we all go to Tennessee, WE will all have a great time, but YOU will be miserable."
So he only took two kids. Turns out the nine year old threw up on the plane - more than once. Mind you, in seventeen years of marriage my husband has never handled our children's vomit. Claiming a weak stomach, he usually steps out of the room and leaves me to handle the clean-up. I don't mind. We mothers have very strong stomachs. So, I have to admit I felt just the slightest twinge of satisfaction at hearing the news that my dear husband had to clean up after my son on the plane - and that he took it all in stride. Bravo!
All in all, I must admit that there was an underlying reason for my staying home while he went off to play in the Tennessee snow. While my husband hates to spend time away from the family - I LOVE IT!!!! Yep, Tuesday morning I kissed my husband and children good-bye, told them I love them and would miss them, and stood outside to watch them drive away. The moment they were out of sight I did a little dance, started singing to myself, and listed all the wonderful things I would enjoy in their absence: having my bed all to myself, throwing out whatever I want without having to justify it to anyone, watching a few movies without interruption, and going anywhere I please - again, without having to justify it to anyone! Heaven!
So here I am, oddly enough, watching my twelve-year-old sleeping soundly - in my bed. (My two teens and the toddler are home with me.) No, I didn't get my bed all to myself after all. And though I did watch two movies last night, I did it with my two year old jumping all over me and my son asking questions every two minutes. And I did take off on a spontaneous trip to Arizona, which made my husband furious when he found out and I still had to justify it, and it's day four of the Tennessee trip and I have nothing really to show for it. Well, that's not entirely true. I did throw out an old dresser and a broken high chair - and I didn't have to justify that to anyone!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
A New Beginning
It's been nine months since my last blog - and for good reason... Well, two reasons really. The first was that my husband wasn't too keen on my making public the details of our personal lives, exposing ourselves (or more specifically our children) to negative comments by complete strangers. The second reason was nothing more than good old fashioned laziness.
As for the first reason, I have told myself over and over that if Erma Bombeck had shielded her family from possible public criticism, then America would have missed out on a lot of good laughs. How I love Erma Bombeck! When I was in high school, one of my teachers wrote me a note predicting that I would be the next Erma Bombeck. Well, at least her compliment gave me enough courage to continue writing for the next twenty-five years.
As for the second reason, I admit to using my new status as "mother of five" as an excuse to do nothing...well, at least very little...lately. Does that make sense?
Two years ago at the age of 39, I gave birth to my fifth and final child. I have enjoyed every single moment since then! I have learned that the years pass way too fast while our children are young, and not fast enough once they reach adolesence. So, I have been savoring every second with little Jare Bear.
And there is, actually, one more reason why I've been so lazy. I've been living in writer's limbo. Limbo, as most of you know, is the place where souls go to wait. It is neither heaven nor hell, and nothing of any significance is accomplished there. Souls just sort of drift along waiting for...something, anything, to happen.
Well, that's where I've been. You see, when a writer is actually writing (and I mean working hard on a specific project) the world is a wonderful place. In fact, hours and days are much too short. It is easy to lose oneself in it all. The experience of writing, and especially of actually FINISHING a project, is absolutely delicious! Then there's the stage of hoping, and praying, and dreaming for publication. Submitting is hard work, too, and it can be all consuming. The rejections are tough to take, but a good writer never gives up.
All this is just fine and dandy. But then there's the stage that I've been in the past couple of years, the stage where publishers actually like what I've written and say they'd like to publish it -- but nothing happens for a long, long, long time. This stage is full of words like "soon" and "be patient" and "in a few more weeks" and "hang in there." It is extremely difficult to get any actual work done in this stage.
It's kind of like those last few weeks of pregancy when you know the baby could arrive at anytime, but there's no way to know for sure exactly when. You pace the floor day after day, look at the clock and the calendar a hundred times a day, and every thought in your head becomes consumed by everything baby.
That's what I've been going through ever since Tanglewood Press told me they wanted to publish my first novel. That was in June 2008. (I had submitted the manuscript in 2006.) I did manage to complete the first draft of the sequel and began writing the third book in the series, but I have had a dickens of a time doing much else -- other than playing with my little boy. Mabye God sent him to me when he did to help me fill my limbo time with something truly worthwhile.
Anyway, I am thrilled to say that my limbo time might be coming to an end...soon. Tanglewood contacted me, still loves my book, and is ready to begin the publishing process. This, of course, simply begins yet another stage in my life, one with which I am as yet unfamiliar. In the meantime, I hope to find a little more time to blog.
When it all boils down to it, I am still a haggard housewife trying to live my lifelong dream of becoming a published author. Thanks Erma Bombeck! You're still my inspiration!
As for the first reason, I have told myself over and over that if Erma Bombeck had shielded her family from possible public criticism, then America would have missed out on a lot of good laughs. How I love Erma Bombeck! When I was in high school, one of my teachers wrote me a note predicting that I would be the next Erma Bombeck. Well, at least her compliment gave me enough courage to continue writing for the next twenty-five years.
As for the second reason, I admit to using my new status as "mother of five" as an excuse to do nothing...well, at least very little...lately. Does that make sense?
Two years ago at the age of 39, I gave birth to my fifth and final child. I have enjoyed every single moment since then! I have learned that the years pass way too fast while our children are young, and not fast enough once they reach adolesence. So, I have been savoring every second with little Jare Bear.
And there is, actually, one more reason why I've been so lazy. I've been living in writer's limbo. Limbo, as most of you know, is the place where souls go to wait. It is neither heaven nor hell, and nothing of any significance is accomplished there. Souls just sort of drift along waiting for...something, anything, to happen.
Well, that's where I've been. You see, when a writer is actually writing (and I mean working hard on a specific project) the world is a wonderful place. In fact, hours and days are much too short. It is easy to lose oneself in it all. The experience of writing, and especially of actually FINISHING a project, is absolutely delicious! Then there's the stage of hoping, and praying, and dreaming for publication. Submitting is hard work, too, and it can be all consuming. The rejections are tough to take, but a good writer never gives up.
All this is just fine and dandy. But then there's the stage that I've been in the past couple of years, the stage where publishers actually like what I've written and say they'd like to publish it -- but nothing happens for a long, long, long time. This stage is full of words like "soon" and "be patient" and "in a few more weeks" and "hang in there." It is extremely difficult to get any actual work done in this stage.
It's kind of like those last few weeks of pregancy when you know the baby could arrive at anytime, but there's no way to know for sure exactly when. You pace the floor day after day, look at the clock and the calendar a hundred times a day, and every thought in your head becomes consumed by everything baby.
That's what I've been going through ever since Tanglewood Press told me they wanted to publish my first novel. That was in June 2008. (I had submitted the manuscript in 2006.) I did manage to complete the first draft of the sequel and began writing the third book in the series, but I have had a dickens of a time doing much else -- other than playing with my little boy. Mabye God sent him to me when he did to help me fill my limbo time with something truly worthwhile.
Anyway, I am thrilled to say that my limbo time might be coming to an end...soon. Tanglewood contacted me, still loves my book, and is ready to begin the publishing process. This, of course, simply begins yet another stage in my life, one with which I am as yet unfamiliar. In the meantime, I hope to find a little more time to blog.
When it all boils down to it, I am still a haggard housewife trying to live my lifelong dream of becoming a published author. Thanks Erma Bombeck! You're still my inspiration!
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