Call me anal…

But I have issues with people labelling me as a “housewife”.

The truth of it is, I don’t give a shit about the house – which to be even more anally retentive, cannot even be referred to as a “house” since it is more of a pigeonhole in a block of apartments – as opposed to being a mother who stays at home to watch her kid/s.

No. My predominant duty is not towards the house (aka “flat” or “home”, as I would prefer to specifically term it) but is instead focused mostly on the emotionally well-being, social and physical growth of my child/ren.

(I am in a bit of a grey area now seeing how I have 1 born child and 1 unborn child, thus the kid/s and child/ren. :mrgreen: )

As long as my place is not infested with creepy-crawlies, is generally clean, no one is starving or living in filth and we can all find what we want within this tiny 3-room space, my “housewife” role is spoken for.

I admit I’ve always been more than a little hung up on specific definitions, more than what is necessary, and more than what most can be bothered with.

  • I do not refer to my partner as my “husband” (publicly or otherwise) until he is legally my husband.
  • The baby brewing in my tummy isn’t here until s/he is here.
  • Just because I know of your existence doesn’t make you a “friend”. There is a perfectly good reason why words like “acquaintance”, “colleague”, “schoolmate”, “classmate”, “fellow blogger” and “blogreader” have been invented. You’re somehow supposed to categorise the people you know and sort them accordingly.

And if you’ve spoken to me before (online or otherwise), you’d notice how I’ll share that someone I know went to that restaurant before” instead of everything being about “my friend this” and “my friend that”. Because to be brutally honest, I don’t have THAT many friends and most people don’t either.

The word “friend” is often loosely used in reference to people you know, and I’m not one of those who do. I’m anal, remember?

So back to my point: I am not a housewife. I am a stay-home mom. Please keep that in mind, thank you.

And no. I am not staying home so I can flash picture cards at my 19 month old to speed up his mental growth. I am just here so that he does not get emotionally neglected, physically/verbally abused and to generally make sure that he develops into a confident happy child who isn’t afraid of unknown possibilities.


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