Is the Housewife Becoming an Endangered Species?

I haven't blogged in some time. I have been trying to adapt to my new life as a housewife. After William and I got married, I quit working so I could become a proper housewife. I am hoping that when we have children, I will be prepared to be a proper mother. What I am seeing right now is exactly how vital it is, if I have a girl, to pass on the housewife tradition to her. Sure, there are guides out there, but no one can teach you how to make hospital corners or cornbread quite like a mother. I fear housewifery may be becoming a lost art.

The brutal erosion of marriage in 6 states already is beginning to feel like an epidemic, spreading from the liberal Northeast into the heartland of America. Iowa? People, we can't let this happen. The world and its morals as we know them are endangered! Before we know it, Christians may well become a minority breed, and then we know that many will be too weak to resist the homosexuals' coercive measures, their sexual allure.

Having been married this past month and a half, I have experienced first-hand the effects of the erosion of marriage. Whether it be my invitations to other couples to come and enjoy a lovely cup of tea or evening of charades, or my futile attempts to carpool with our neighbors to church, all around me my efforts to strengthen the moral fabric of my community have been rebuked. None of my married friends can offer me the recipes, the housecleaning tips, or other man-pleasing techniques I need to make my husband happy in the bedroom. I feel lost.

How do women manage to scrub the toilets, air the rugs, do the dishes, feed their families without some semblance of tradition? Sure, I have a lady that comes into the house twice a week, but there is so much other stuff to do. I have had to decorate our new home, drop off William's dry cleaning; why, I even taught Sunday School last week. I'm just wondering how I will be able to have children on top of all my current responsibilities without sacrificing my principles. Oh, it feels good to say. I do know, though, that prayer is the answer.

So, besides the domestic front, and my obvious disgruntlement with our collectively poor political choices recently, things have been going alright. Ever since William and I were married, his work has picked up considerably. He has had to travel out of town nearly every week for the last six weeks, which I suppose is to be expected for an attorney of his stature. Sometimes, I'm a little insecure that Miranda's going with him all over the place, but ever since William and I tied the knot, I've been more reassured that he is mine and no other woman's. I do, however, need to figure out a good source of information pertaining to our sex life. Surely, if there is such a big ruckus about it all, there must be more that I'm not getting. I just can't let on to William that I am having such thoughts. I don't want to let on to him whatsoever that I do not find sex very fulfilling. I'd hate to burst his bubble.

Well, I intend to return to this blogging thing. I anticipate that since I fired Lupita and hired Juanita, I should be able to have more free time. That Lupita didn't know her ass from an oven mitt. One time, I went into the kitchen while she was cleaning to find her cooking beans in a bowl of cold water. Sheeez. Mags recommended Juanita, and I must say, she is a little better fit for our home- though I could stand to hear less of her chit-chattering away on her cell phone in Spanish all day. If she spoke in English, at least, I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not she talks about me. As it is, sometimes I think she is snickering at me about my lack of womanly prowess. Surely, she doesn't blame me for the decay of housewifery in our country. It's not like I don't get out and go shopping. It's just that she may not know it, because I like to stay home while she's there cleaning. Call me olde fashioned. Oh well.

Bye, Mr. Fluffington.