Showing posts with label housewife frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label housewife frustration. Show all posts

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Envying the Employed. Envying My Husband.

Every time someone asks me "What do you do?" or "What's your occupation?", I generally get the same reaction.  Observe...(CUE IN: flashback-y music with matching blurry effects)

Disclaimer:  Generally, I don't have a super sharp I-can-work-for-the-CIA kinda memory, and I have hypothyroidism too, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why these encounters are so vivid.
Why...Whyyy...Whhhyyyyyy?

Second Prenatal Visit, 2006
NURSE:  "Occupation?" (Staring at her clipboard, no eye contact.  How, in the name of all things hygienic, is she working in health care with those foot-long acrylics???  She could inadvertently perform surgery with those nails!)


ME: (barely 3 months since resigning from breakneck paced job of 6 years, therefore feeling horribly unadjusted to the new title.)  "Umm"  (looks at the floor) "I-i-i'm a h-h-h-housewife."

NURSE:  "WOW!!!" (Looks up from clipboard so fast, I thought she'd snap her cervical spine) "Lucky you!  Ain't no shame in that!"  (writes on her clipboard)  "I wish I had more time."  (She's nice.  Cute pixie haircut too.  Now if only I could make her get rid of those claws...)
 


Second Annual Ob-Gyn Visit After Giving Birth, 2009
 NURSE PRACTITIONER:  "Soooooo, you're still a stay-at-home-mom?"  


ME: (With more confidence this time, head held up high with a smile fit for a  Rembrandt toothpaste commercial, pride brimming like the tequila in Mel Gibson's glass)  "Yes."

NURSE PRACTITIONER:  "Good for you!!!  That's a luxury not many can afford.  I wish I could just stay at home with my kids.  Why don't you have the second one yet?"  (Wow, she also has a pixie haircut.  What kind of cosmic pattern is this?)

ME:  (Smiles sheepishly)  "I'm studying for the NCLEX-RN.  I don't want to be vomiting all over the test center."


Thyroid Ultrasound Appointment, 2010:
WASHINGTON RADIOLOGY ASSOCIATES RECEPTIONIST:  "Occupation?"

ME: (Coolly, casually, the words roll off my tongue without making me spastic now)  "I'm a stay-at-home-mom."

WASHINGTON RADIOLOGY ASSOCIATES RECEPTIONIST : "Ooooh" (face crumples like she just gulped down vinegar)  "I hear the pay is pretty baaaaad."

ME:  "Hahahaha!  Good one."

WASHINGTON RADIOLOGY ASSOCIATES RECEPTIONIST:  "But I hear the benefits are soooo good."

ME:  "So true.  So very true."  (The Biotin Force is strong in that one.  Thick hair, she has.  Had it, I wish.  It's ok, I say.  His ways, the Lord has.  Thankful, I am.  Hypothyroidism, I have.)


With all honesty, I'm truly, truly thankful for my lot in life.  Considering all the nasty things I've done, and the amoral person I was before my husband opened my eyes, I REALLY am undeserving of these blessings.  To say God is merciful is literally, in my case, a severe understatement.


But my husband is still not talking to me and he has the option of driving away with his work buddies when he doesn't feel like seeing my face, albeit it is kinda pretty.  HAHAHA.  I'm trying to make myself feel better here.  Trying.  Please humor me.


That's what he just did.  I was in the shower, he came in the bathroom, changed his work shirt, fixed his hair,  put on Hermes ConcentrĂ© D'Orange Verte and disappeared in his German car.

Me?  During the rare times my hubby's presence irritated me, the only thing I could do to effectively vent was to email my best friend and/or play with my son.  I don't know how many times throughout my son's three year lifespan, that I've cried myself out in his presence.  There were times when I was crying while burping him.  Other times, he was just playing, oblivious, drooling and gurgling while I was telling him between sobs that I was sorry, but I didn't have anyone else to talk to.  

A few hours before I began this post, I was crying out of frustration or out of who knows what.  My son asked me in a worried tone, "What's wrong mommy?  Where do you hurt?".  Of course, I had no answer he could possibly comprehend.  I couldn't simplify the answer so a three year old mind could process it.  I didn't want to lie and say- my tummy. 

So he said, "I think you need a surprise to make you feel better."  Then he picked up Mack, the truck from Disney's Cars, and gave it to me.  "Maybe I can also tell you a story.  You need a story, Mommy.", and he proceeded to tell me his version of Peter Pan.  After saying "Bee End", he hugged me and said "Don't cry."

Of course, that only made me cry all the more.


I miss the independence of having a job.  I miss having more adult contact.  I miss having a my own life, my own accomplishments.  I don't know me anymore. 

It's like I'm only breathing to take care of my husband and my son.  Hmmm.  ...That really actually is a luxury.  Ain't no shame in that.  The benefits are actually very, very good.  I really am lucky. 

The Housewife Reviews for the NCLEX-RN

This blog was conceived out of a protracted argument with my beloved husband.  As of today, it's been five days of Arctic cold shoulders from both ends. 
 Well, he did talk to me once, just to ask me to edit his presentation for his European bosses.  Then...nary a "thank you" afterward.  I don't know what the heck is going on in his frontal lobe.  Oh, Lord, look at me sharing my thoughts with a laptop. 


My mother who just happens to also be my best friend lives outside the U.S.  All my girlfriends have their own drama going on.  We're at an age where people are about to be married, just got married, just had kids, or are having none of the above because the ascent on the career ladder is all that could be had at the moment.

Also, I saw this episode "Private Lives" on House yet again (yes, I adorrrrre that show), and Donna's character said: with the internet, nobody can ever be lonely again, or something like that.  (Y'know, Donna, from "That 70's Show".  How am I supposed to remember her real name?)


I shouldn't be feeling lonely.  I have my three year old son, the light of my life.  He's up in his room, playing with Thomas The Train or Lightning McQueen.  He's a miracle baby.  But let's save that for later.  Meanwhile, I'm down here in the kitchen trying to decide if I'll write about loneliness or the impending, dreaded NCLEX-RN.


WAAAAAAAAH!!!!!  THE NCLEX!!!!!!!  It's almost noon and I still haven't studied!  I have Procrastinitis.   I should just switch off the computer right now and dive into Saunders and Mosby. . . . .


...well, whaddyaknow.  I'm still here.  Why is it that just when we have something to do right now, a hundred things we don't really need to do gets done, huh?  


When I woke up this morning, I said, ahhh, I'm going to review Fluid and Electrolyte imbalances.  But noooo, I ended up baking, then watching two episodes of "Family Guy".  Yesterday, when I wanted to review maternity nursing, I ended up cleaning the house then doing my nails.  When I wanted to read on pharmacology, I found myself doing the laundry then playing with my son on the Island of Sodor.  


Don't get me wrong.  I had good grades in nursing school.  But I'm having a hard time concentrating now.  Maybe I should use the furry handcuffs upstairs, attach me to the study table and throw away the key.