Monday, 1 March 2010

Definition of a Housewife

What is a housewife? Just for a lark, I googled the definition.

Housewife: 1) a woman, typically a married woman, who keeps house, usually without having paid employment. 2) The wife of a householder; the mistress of a family; the female head of a household. 3) A hussy.

Huh. Let’s forget about the labels for now, shall we.

After 6 years at home raising children, I still tell little white lies (undercover agent/brain surgeon/mystic healer) when I fill out the occupation section of the Customs & Immigration form. But I refuse to delude myself any longer. I AM A HOUSEWIFE. There, it’s out. Actually, it wasn’t too bad. Obviously, I don’t plan to stay a housewife forever so it’s okay. For now. Until I figure something else out. In the meantime. . .

I’m an American (no, I will not aplogize) married to a Brit, His Royal Highness (HRH). He’s a great husband and father who works very hard in a stressful job while I swan around. We have 2 truly scrumptious daughters, 14 (Truly) and 5 (Scrumptious) and I am the proud mistress of a falling-down Victorian terraced house (Shangri-la) in Nappy Valley. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Nappy Valley, it’s a neighborhood in Southwest London with the highest birth rate in Europe. Go figure. If you ask a local mother, there is no sex in Nappy Valley. But, anyhow, do you see where I got my clever moniker? I’m a wife who lives in a house in the Nappy Valley. Nappy Valley Housewife. Oh, and we all live happily in Shangri-la with our perfectly trained dog (the Royal Hound) who fits through the cat flap, which is handy for late night foraging in the garden and digging up the newly planted tulip bulbs. So perhaps calling him perfectly trained is a slight exaggeration, not that I’m prone to exaggerate (oh no, not me). And if I were, it’s definitely a thing of the past.

I’m addicted to Starbucks lattes—grande, skinny, extra hot--which is partly an oxymoron as well as a list of attributes that HRH likes about me. I love red wine and chocolate, I’m a total foodie which is not to be confused with a gourmet, and I’m hopelessly uncoordinated but a surprisingly graceful skier. According to HRH, I’m an undiagnosed dyspraxic so lots of things get broken and I have an embarrassing, and often painful, penchant for tripping over my own feet. I love my family more than anything in the world. I’m not always the best mother but I show up and I try. I decided to start a blog, not because I think people will read it (goodness, no), but because I need a place to call my own and because I’m searching for meaning in my life and trying to figure out what to be when I grow up. So might as well get started. . .


  1. Once gain, very funny stuff. You forgot to add your penchant for transportation disasters!
    Ha Ha! I like that you show up at being a good mother.

  2. suester, you must be referring to my other nickname--Travel Jinx. Slipped my mind. I think you have an unfair advantage here, but never fear, I'm planning a special blog post--all about you!

  3. I love your blog, I owe you a obscenely late email and no more funny jumpers chez nous xxx