Yes, My Goal Is To Become A Housewife

Yes, I Want To Be A Housewife

I don't want to waste my life working a 9 to 5 I can't stand.

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I've always grown up and watched the women in my life work their booties off to help bring food to the table and represent good role models to me. For as long as I can remember I've always wanted to be the wife who brought more than just good looks to the table, I wanted to make money, and contribute to the family income. I wanted my kids to see how important it is to work. That being said, I have begun watching much more reality TV, particularly "The Real Housewives" franchise, and seeing the lavish lives they live got my brain thinking.

Nothing seems like it could top living in a big, fancy house with your golden retriever and kids chasing each other around while you sip on a mimosa, texting the ladies in your book club about how great you think the book is so far. Does it make me shallow to wish I could live a life in the future just like that? Maybe, but I don't care what others think.

I don't care if I'm the richest woman on Earth or hardly keeping my head out of the water. Knowing I can maintain my home exactly to my standards is something that excites me. I don't see any shame in judging women who want to be housewives and stay at home moms. We may begin our lives wanting one thing, but this can change over time.

SEE ALSO: To The Girl Who Dreams Of Her Future Career More Than Her Future Children

I think I would probably get bored to a certain extent sitting around at home. I know I'll want to join a book club or a philanthropic group, and find little DIY things to do. I could even try and a find a bit of a side hustle to do to bring in some extra cash. You don't have to work to be valued in society, it's not meant for everyone. Some people are meant to spend their time raising their kids with their full attention, while others can manage it while working as well.

I like the idea of giving my whole to the home, and not to a 9 to 5 I'll never truly care for. My dream is to be a novelist, and what better way to work on that than at home, and not working at some random establishment hoping I can fit in a few hours of writing before reliving the same day over and over.

We all walk the steps we are destined to walk. Maybe I'll find a dream job, and not be the housewife I secretly want to be. Maybe I'll find a rich husband, or win the lottery, and be able to be a housewife and stay at home mom. Either way, what's meant to happen will happen, and I know I'll be happy wherever I end up.

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Working With People Who Are Dying Teaches You So Much About How To Live

Spending time with hospice patients taught me about the art of dying.

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Death is a difficult subject.

It is addressed differently across cultures, lifestyles, and religions, and it can be difficult to find the right words to say when in the company of someone who is dying. I have spent a lot of time working with hospice patients, and I bore witness to the varying degrees of memory loss and cognitive decline that accompany aging and disease.

The patients I worked with had diverse stories and interests, and although we might have had some trouble understanding each other, we found ways to communicate that transcended any typical conversation.

I especially learned a lot from patients severely affected by dementia.

They spoke in riddles, but their emotions were clearly communicated through their facial expressions and general demeanor, which told a story all on their own.

We would connect through smiles and short phrases, yes or no questions, but more often than not, their minds were in another place. Some patients would repeat the details of the same event, over and over, with varying levels of detail each time.

Others would revert to a child-like state, wondering about their parents, about school, and about family and friends they hadn't seen in a long time.

I often wondered why their minds chose to wander to a certain event or time period and leave them stranded there before the end of their life. Was an emotionally salient event reinforcing itself in their memories?

Was their subconscious trying to reconnect with people from their past? All I could do was agree and follow their lead because the last thing I wanted to do was break their pleasant memory.

I felt honored to be able to spend time with them, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was intruding on their final moments, moments that might be better spent with family and loved ones. I didn't know them in their life, so I wondered how they benefited from my presence in their death.

However, after learning that several of the patients I visited didn't have anyone to come to see them, I began to cherish every moment spent, whether it was in laughter or in tears. Several of the patients never remembered me. Each week, I was a new person, and each week they had a different variation of the same story that they needed to tell me.

In a way, it might have made it easier to start fresh every week rather than to grow attached to a person they would soon leave.

Usually, the stories were light-hearted.

They were reliving a memory or experiencing life again as if it were the first time, but as the end draws nearer, a drastic shift in mood and demeanor is evident.

A patient who was once friendly and jolly can quickly become quiet, reflective, and despondent. I've seen patients break down and cry, not because of their current situation, but because they were mourning old ones. These times taught me a lot about how to be just what that person needs towards the end of their life.

I didn't need to understand why they were upset or what they wanted to say.

The somber tone and tired eyes let me know that what they had to say was important and worth hearing. What mattered most is that someone who cared was there to hear it.

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True Tales Of Growing Up In A BIG Family

Spoiler alert, I get tackled a lot.

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I was born into a fairly large family. I have upwards of twenty-something first cousins, many of who are around the same age as me. It has honestly been both a blessing and a curse to have so many people around me all the time. Some of my favorite memories come from family gatherings where all of my cousins were there. However, since most of my cousins are male, there has also been a lot of physical violence where people get hurt, even if the intentions were innocent. I have so many stories about my family, some of which I won't share here because they are a little bit inappropriate, but others are too good not to share.

The first story I want to share is from this past Easter. Most of my cousins on my Dad's side were at my Papa's house celebrating the holiday. There was so much food we could probably feed a small army. Some of the older cousins decided that we were going to play a game of whiffle ball. All of the cousins who were playing were at least sixteen and some of them were much older. Many of us had or are playing sports in High School or College so this game of whiffle ball got extremely competitive very fast. I ended up being the Umpire/pitcher because I played softball for so long. The game ended with my brothers winning and my other cousins upset that they lost, but it was still one of the memories I will cherish the most even though I definitely threw out my shoulder pitching.

I can remember playing a game of football on Thanksgiving when I was young (maybe five or six). This game, not unlike the whiffle ball game we played at Easter, got super competitive super fast to the point where even I, as a six-year-old, was being pushed and tackled to the ground by much older boys. I honestly can't remember much about that game, maybe I got hit in the head too much, but I do remember having so much fun playing with my cousins.

I've been on a cruise two times in my life, both times with my extended family. One cruise was to Mexico when I was very little. What I remember about that cruise was getting extremely sea sick and that the cleaning staff would make towel monkey on our beds. The cruise was to Alaska when I was a lot older, I think I was fifteen. Since I and my cousins were much older on that cruise, we caused a lot more trouble and were able to get away with it. Every night we would go to the pool and swim. Then, we would go to the buffet and only eat pineapples and mac and cheese. We, also, may have or may not have gone into a bar to sing karaoke. While the cruise was fun, I wouldn't have had such a great time if I wasn't with my family.

While sometimes they can be a pain, having so much family has taught me a lot about communication and playing right. Again, I only have scratched the surface here in regards to the plentiful stories I have, many of which are so much funnier. I love my family so much and I would never trade that in for the world.

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