This would probably be my shortest post.
I had just dumped my pile of un-ironed clothes back in the pail. Just because. I had spent the last 2 hours and 40 minutes ironing half of them, laundry from two weeks ago – maybe more. I’ll continue tomorrow.
I could have just finished it tonight of course (it’s 00:41 mind you…) but I just had to get this out of my system. I needed to write and it was once my outlet – of happiness, bitterness and anger. Once – because it was suppressed and I was not allowed to have feelings, emotions.
But nevermind that. I would like to talk about something else…
I always knew I would be a housewife. Growing up, I always envisioned a perfect household: a helpful husband, several obedient kids who would help with house chores, a cozy home which smelt of clean laundry and freshly baked bread.
Today, my perfect dream is far from reality… I am a housewife, yes, but I have a messy home, a husband who prefers to be on his phone, one child and laundry that clearly needs ironing.
Don’t get me wrong. I am grateful to God for so many things: a roof over my head, a husband who can support his family, Daniel the smarty pants. But you would always wish you could have so much more: help, safety, loyalty, comfort, love, assurance…
Sometimes I do still wish I had a domestic helper, minus all the drama that comes with it. Sometimes I wish my near-adult stepdaughter could just put things back where they belong. Sometimes I wish the husband would help me with chores without the need of a reminder or nagging.
Sometimes you just need to see into reality. Not everything will work out as planned, or appear as perfect as the picture you painted in your childhood. Sometimes you just have to grow up and move on. Sometimes you just need to take a step back and put your trust in God’s plan.