Is There Such a Thing as a Desperate Househusband?

As I was scrubbing the liquified cookie crumbs out of Boy #1's lunchbox yesterday afternoon, I had another one of those "I went to college for this?" moments. We have successful lawyers, bankers, doctors, businesspeople. How come nobody says, "She is a successful housewife?" You can come over to my house any time and I will always have a clean towel for you if needed. I will whip you up a snack or a meal that will bring a tear to your eye. I will wrap a present for you, sew a button on, do your laundry while you are enjoying that snack. I will let you sit on my couch and relax while I bring you a selection of magazines. I will even help you with your homework if you want. If that's not successful I don't know what is. Let's not even bring up the fact that in my line of work there are no annual reviews, raises, or expense accounts. I don't even like the term "housewife." It is so 50's, so retro, so June Cleaver. I was talking about this with a friend and she brought up the fact that so many other occupations are genderless, like actor, doctor, banker. But not housewife. So what would a genderless title be, "houser?" "house manager?" Any ideas? On forms that ask for my occupation I usually put "mom," which I guess is more important than "housewife." Jackie Kennedy once said something to the effect of "If you mess up raising your children, whatever else you do in life doesn't matter much." No matter how clean your towels are.

The Secret

You know that book that is so hot right now--The Secret? I haven't read it but I have heard about it. I think I may have found the secret though. It could be the power of positive thinking. Or it could be the power of a good friend. A friend you have fun with, can talk to, and just like hanging with. I feel so lucky right now--I have friends. Plural. They are true givers--all of them--with such generous spirits. Boy #1's bar mitzvah is this weekend and I have been in a frenzy getting ready. A couple of weeks ago I called a friend with fabulous taste. Her house looks like it flew off the pages of a decorating magazine. No piles anywhere. Tablescapes and candles everywhere. I asked her if she would help me get the first floor of my house spruced up for the big weekend and everything else. She was happy to. She came over and walked through the house with a notebook. Taking lots of notes. "I think you need some plants there, some mirrors there, a candle there, something there. That was just in the dining room. We are--and when I say "we" I mean "she" is almost done and my house looks great. It looks so good I'm not sure I live here anymore. There is a candle perched on a bed of pebbles in the foyer, fabulous pillows on the couch, pillows on the new bench in the backyard, and plants all over the place. We spent 4 days shopping and arranging. So far. Last night she said she was going to be sad when it was done. I told her not to worry--I still have an office and a whole upstairs to get to. But the best part of all--aside from the backyard bench which I am dying to read a book on--is that it has been so much fun hanging with her and doing all this together. And I think you know what I mean when I say "together." I have been joking around with her--calling her "my decorator"--but really--I am thrilled to call her "my friend."