The Happy Housewife

Friends, I am excited to share something with you. I, along with six other Oklahoma blogger friends, have started a new blog. It's called The RHOK ~ The Real Housewives of Oklahoma. I would love for you all to follow The RHOK as I think you will find it quite entertaining. It's a priviledge to be writing with such a witty and diverse group of housewives.


The Housewives would love for you to share your own "Housewife" story on your blog and then link up with us over at The RHOK. Every Monday we will have a "MckLinky Monday" and we hope you will be eager to participate! To read about other housewives in Oklahoma click HERE.

The Happy Housewife

When I was a little girl I never really thought I'd be "just" a housewife. You know, a wife that stays home with her kids and runs the family household? I always saw myself as a teacher. But, something happened when my first daughter was born and I held her for the first time. She was mine, all mine. The thought of someone else caring for her was NOT an option.

It just so happened that my husband's job changed at the end of my maternity leave, thus making it necessary to move anyway. It gave me the perfect opportunity to get out of my teaching contract and stay home full-time with my precious new bundle of joy.

"Housewife" can mean different things to people. And, there are certainly some housewives that take their job more seriously than others. I'm going to try and create a picture of the kind of housewife I am, living here in the 'burbs of Oklahoma.

I think I fall somewhere in the middle on a scale of not-so-perfect and nearly perfect housewives.

First of all, I want you to know I LOVE being a housewife. I truly loved teaching and felt like I was good teacher, but there is something about being available to my girls whenever they need me that I really appreciate. And I certainly feel like they need me and only me (okay, of course they need their daddy, too) before they are old enough to be in school full-time.

So, what does the house of this Oklahoma housewife look like? I'd hate for you to have the wrong impression!

I do not keep a perfect house. As a matter of fact, I try to avoid the upstairs at all costs unless I know we will be having overnight guests. It seems the upstairs is a trigger of stress for me. Seriously, as soon as I'm three steps away from the top I break out in a sweat and my heart starts racing because I know what I'm going to see. My 12-year-old daughter absolutely hates for me to HAVE to come upstairs. I think she breaks out in a nervous panic as well. You would think that in the past I have yelled or thrown things by the way she cowers in her room quietly. (Okay, okay, maybe she doesn't really cower and maybe I have yelled in the past and thrown things out from under the bed. Just maybe!)


I can't let you even get the picture that my downstairs is perfectly cleaned. It's not. I know how to clean, however. I've learned over the years that some women actually don't know how to clean. (Maybe that should be a future post!)


Before I had children my house was pretty much always clean. I didn't even own a mop! I did it on my hands and knees. Now, how's that for a picture of a housewife? That's kind of what I see in my head when I hear the word "housewife." Of course, that said housewife would be wearing an apron as she's cleaning. I do own a couple of aprons. They are pretty, so why would I want to wear one and get it dirty?!

I try and keep the downstairs presentable. Notice I said "try". Over the years I've become a "stacker." Please don't confuse that with "slacker." Although, now that I think about it, I guess I've become a bit of a slacker as well. I tend to have at least two (or more) stacks of just random stuff sitting on the counter or table. There may or may not be said stacks in corners of my bedroom as well.

We tend to live life in our house. There are toys, books, clothes from the day before strewn about. I like to refer to myself as the 20-minute housewife. What does that mean you ask? That means I can get the house "presentable" in 20 minutes if necessary.


Every couple of weeks I can feel myself getting anxious. I've learned that it happens when I look at my house and realize that it's going to take longer than that 20-minute clean-up time frame. When this happens I may or may not start moving in lightning speed with a raised voice saying things like, "Do I HAVE to be the ONLY one who does anything around here?" My husband coined this time as my "cleaning frenzy." He even has a little song he's made up that he sings when I'm in said cleaning frenzy. And, by golly, when I'm in my cleaning frenzy everyone KNOWS they have to stop what they are doing and help or this happy housewife is NOT happy! My husband adhered to the cliche early "If momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!" Being the smart man he is, he has imparted that wisdom to our daughters.

~Mrs. Albright