wanted: wife

by humanmama on May 6, 2013

There’s nothing that can prepare you for ninety nights of three-hours-in-a-row sleep, which is why having the first baby is so hard. But, add another child or two to your brood and you’re suddenly in a whole different ballgame—one in which you can never nap when baby naps, and have to be on all the time. All. The. Time. Having three isn’t that much harder than two, except for that feeling that every single moment of my day, from early (pre-) dawn to late at night, 8, 9, 9:30–every moment belongs to them. And it’s sometimes wonderful, of course, but hey. I’m only human. It can get real old.

One of the cures to this, of course, would be to get me a wife. Now, I know, I have Carpenter, who is just about as good a husband as you’d ever want. He’s cute, he’s sweet, he loves the crap out of the kids, and he listens to me (and, as you know, that in itself is quite a task). But, let’s face it, he’s no wife. A wife would see the bath toys on the bathroom floor that have been there three days. A wife would say to herself, you know, while I’m standing here waiting to let the dog back in, I could run down and switch laundry loads.

You are probably thinking “But AJ! Not all wives do that!” But I say unto you: mine would. There’s a country song I’ve referenced many times that says “I need a vacation from my life/ Me and my husband, we need a wife,” and I can totally relate. It’s after about four days of two or more of the kids having that cough-til-you-wake at night little cold, and just sleep deprivation anger alone turns my normally loving self into someone horrible. that’s where a wife would come in! Even when he’s the most thoughtful, when I’m exhausted I find myself having this little conversation in my head:

Oh THANK YOU SO MUCH, dear, for loading the dishwasher that time. It was the best time that thing has been loaded all day, and it’s been loaded and run and unloaded seventy other times! And cleaning off the table? Thank you for that, too. Really, don’t worry, just throw all those dishes back into the clean sink. They should soak, anyway, right? And–wow–you folded some clothes?!? ! I’ll just add them to the 88 piles of folded clothes that need to be put away tomorrow!! Wow, such a help!

Poor Carp. he’s the best husband. but, he’s nowhere near the best wife.

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Holly May 7, 2013 at 1:54 am

I gotta tell ya – even on this side of the fence, I ended up with a wife, and poor Ellen ended up with a woman who doesn’t notice bath toys or clothes on the floor for three days. Somehow, even when she tried to cheat it, Ellen ended up with a female husband. I, on the other hand, made out like a bandit.

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aj May 9, 2013 at 9:18 pm

That is just NOT FAIR for her. But for you: WAY TO GO!!! :) Poor Ellen :)

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