At the beginning of our married life, I decided that to be a good housewife I was going to have to get a few things straight. I wanted to be a good housewife; I still do. I don't find it degrading, nor boring, nor restricting. I guess I am not a liberated 21st century woman. I am not only a housewife, and Aaron does not insist that I be one. Yet, I like my home, and I like keeping it well. It is a challenge to me. But that can be another post.
Back to the beginning, when I decided to divide my days up by task. Monday would be my baking and laundry day, Tuesday my cleaning day, and after those two days I can't recall what I designated the rest of the week for. I think I wrote it down somewhere? Monday and Tuesday, though. I have been really, really good about keeping my Monday and Tuesday tasks.
Today is Wednesday. And we cleaned. I know! I know! Today is not Tuesday! We had a lot of great people time yesterday, and I am glad for it. I can't say that I didn't have the itch to sweep the floor when we were sitting down to dinner with our friends, but I didn't. I didn't sweep in the middle of dinner. With company.
Today, (Wednesday, remember?), being that I am married to The Most Incredible Man, he helped me clean. He did the dishes while I dusted and swept. Then he vacuumed.
It was rainy and cold outside, but our little house was warm, the heat buzzing out the vents and an autumn candle burning its last few inches. When the dustrag and I got to the living room corner, I recognized how beautiful it all was. There was frost in-between the inner and outer panes of glass, and the trees stood naked, which I do like better than full coats of summer. There was Pandora playing from the computer, a perfect playlist of mellow, lyrical music, JJ Heller and Sufjan and Jon Foreman. My husband gets to work from home, and we get to work together, whether that be in the lives of teenagers or in piles of dishes and dustbunnies. My heart was full.