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Click hereThere is nothing to this story but 750 words and a few wishes. It's just a day in the life of so many women who are employees, wives, and mothers. It is a simple homage to good wives everywhere. Think of it as a cleansing that removes the toxins of so many cheating spouse stories. There is no sex here, so if that's what you want you may as well move along.
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I was at my desk twenty minutes ahead of most, hoping I could get organized and get ahead before the first crisis of the day. I failed. Even as I sat down my boss came in just steps behind me and said, "I'm getting push back from above on the Carson contract. They don't believe our numbers."
"But we vetted those numbers; they're fully documented."
"Yeah, well management wants to see the documentation. We have a presentation at nine."
I rolled my eyes and exhaled. "How do you want to do it?"
"Let's briefly review the numbers, then go back to the beginning and break it all down for them. If we can't dazzle them with our dancing, we'll bury them with our bullshit."
"Two hours?"
"Unless they cry 'Uncle' and give up."
"I don't have time to make viewgraphs. I'll just present from my files."
"Sounds good, let's plan on it."
And that's how my day started. It didn't get better. We convinced management that our numbers were sound, responded to a new set of questions from the Carson people, filed my travel report from the first half of the week, and did it all before lunch. The afternoon was worse.
By the time I walked through the front door of our house it was almost 7 PM. Tom had dinner almost ready, and the kids were doing their homework, so all I needed to do was pour myself a glass of white wine and collapsed on the sofa. I did exactly that with practiced perfection. Soon there was the call "Dinner's ready!" and I joined three overactive kids under the age of twelve and a patient husband for a dinner that nurtured the soul while it fed the body. With three excited kids, you mostly do a lot of listening.
Dinner over, I offered to help with the dishes. Tom said, "No, you go change. I've got it."
By the time I'd showered, changed, and returned to the living room, I found Tom sitting on the sofa with a beer he'd been nursing since dinner. I dropped down onto the couch, tucked my legs under me, and wiggled just a bit until my shoulder was under his arm and my head was on his shoulder. He put his cheek on the top of my head, turned to kiss my forehead, and placed his cheek on my head again.
"Mmmmm."
"Hard day?" he said.
"Mmmmm."
He waited a minute and asked, "Would you like a foot rub?"
"Mmmmm. No."
He waited another minute.
"Back rub?"
"Mmmmm. No."
Another minute passed.
"Glass of white wine?"
Okay, I had to giggle just a bit now. "No."
"Anything I can do?"
"Yes. Give me twenty minutes like this, and then take me upstairs and make slow, passionate love to your wife."
"Mmmmm. I can do that."
And he did. In the morning when I woke, I took my morning shower and found Tom cooking breakfast in the kitchen. It wasn't just any breakfast. He made me a lovely ham and cheese omelet with buttered toast and orange slices on the side. Half way through breakfast the rumble of feet on stairs told me the kids were up. With the peace and quiet shattered and kisses all around, they sat at their places and noisily began to consume their fuel for the day.
"Everybody get their homework done?"
"Yes, dad."
"You have everything you need packed for school?"
"Yes, mom."
"You brush your teeth?"
"Yes..."
Soon the whirlwind that brought them to the table took them to their bus and I was again sitting with my hubby.
"What about you? Are you ready for your day?"
I mimicked the kids and said, "Yes, dear." He smiled.
We piled the dishes in the sink for later, grabbed our briefcases, and headed to work.
That's my life. Oh, I cook dinner as often as my husband. We take turns. And we get away for date nights when we can. It's a bit predictable, but it has everything I want. There are no lies, no lover on the side, and no business trips where I secretly get away for "adult" playtime without him. There are just three rambunctious kids and a husband who loves me. Sure, there's also a job I enjoy that is sometimes frustrating, and there are my parents, Tom's parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and childhood friends. It's a full and busy life, and I would not want it any other way.
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Well, sometimes we do need a happy ending, don't we?
A nice story about how the American
Dream is portrayed. Sorry to say you didn’t
consider the toll that 2 or 3 kids, housework,
shopping for food, preparing and cleaning up
after meals, doing laundry, taking the kids to dancing, baseball or whatever, attending to husband, helping
with home work, looking after aging parents and maybe having an outside job can have on a married woman. God help the single mothers.
Women need a vacation away from All these tasks,
but who would look after the kids and their needs.?
And can hubby fill in.? Not completely.
Moms are trapped and it doesn’t get easier as she
age's or hits menopause. Can you really blame her
if she gets worn out, depressed, or has a fling.?
She needs more than understanding and compassion,
she needs to have some time and enjoyment for herself,
away from all that responsibility. It doesn’t surprise me
that many women choose to leave when the kids are
grown. The “Work” of keeping a marriage alive, may be
as simple as arranging for mom to have a break.
shr