Day 3: Ten Reasons I'd Make a Horrible Housewife

There are holidays to celebrate everything these days:

National Button Day!

National Vodka Day! (wait, I celebrate national vodka day).

Today we celebrate two wonderful things: the delicious sandwich, and the doting housewife.

PSA: To be clear, there's a difference between Stay At Home Moms and Housewives.

SAHMs work harder than people who go to the office. They're on call 24/7 to take care of their families and keep the house running – no small task.

Housewives, however, are a different breed, from a different era. Think: June Cleaver and Carol Brady. Pearls and aprons. Hoovers and housework.

THESE are the housewives I want to celebrate today.

A year ago, I was on maternity leave. And it was wonderful. I was able to be a SAHM for 4 months, spending tons of time with Max, nurturing him, and establishing a routine that not only created balance in his world, but would then help other people (aka: his grandmothers) take care of him. Sure, I cooked dinner every night…because I love to cook.

But in no way was I a 1950s housewife.

I'd make a horrible housewife. Here's why:


1. No sweatpants. 1950s housewives didn't even own a pair of yoga pants. In fact, they barely wore any sort of pants ever (except for Carol Brady who would don fancy polyester pantsuits and scarves, but even then, she was wearing a suit). They wore dresses! With stockings! And (platform) heels! And pearls!

"Is there anything better than baking in stockings?"

2. Vacuuming. Sucking up dirt sucks the life out of me. Oh, and vacuums back in the day weighed about as much as a small car.

"Oh, I could do this all day! Vacuuming is really cathartic." – said no woman, ever.

3. Dinner at 5pm, SHARP! Five o'clock is practically the middle of the afternoon! But I get it, my husband has just gotten home from his fairy tale job that somehow allows him to work a full day, commute home, and still walk in the door barely minutes past 5pm.

"May I cut your meat for you, too?"

4. Cooking a feast, every day. In the 1950s, a housewife and her husband would sit down to dinner at a table covered with casseroles and bowls of food that could feed an army.

"It only took me 7 hours to whip up this mid-week turkey. Who needs to wait until 
Thanksgiving? My man loves a browned bird any day of the week!"

5. Not drinking. Now, the famous TV housewives of today certainly drink, but I'm talking about the ladies from back in the day. They may have had a martini waiting for their husband, but they never took a sip of alcohol. Ever. Maybe they stashed a bottle in the laundry room?

Sing it, sister.

6. It's all about HIM. There were those times that our lovely housewives did stop tending to the home for her man in order to leave the house and run errands...for her man. Stops could include: the Market (to pick up detergent to do all of her man's laundry), the butcher (to pick up her man's favorite cut of meat for dinner), the dry cleaner (to pick up and drop off her man's suits and ties), and the bank (to deposit her man's hard-earned money).

The 'honey do list'...the early years.

7. Ironing. I believe I'm allergic. Embarrassingly, I've been known to not wear articles of clothing for an entire season because they were too wrinkled.

"Dear me, I wish I had MORE laundry to iron!"

8. The phone tree. I hate talking on the phone. If it were up to me, I would communicate with everyone via emails, texts and Instagram posts. For housewives, however, the landline was their lifeline to the outside world! Forget long, boozy lunches with the girls (which is my preferred activity for catching up with friends), instead it was hour-long conversations about the floozy down the street and soap operas.

"Oh hi, Betsy! No, it's perfect timing. I just finished baking cookies 

for no reason whatsoever! Tell me ALL about the Ladies' League meeting!"

9. The "Housewife Haircut". Curly hair + coiffed 'mom 'do' = disaster.

Hurricane-proof.

10. The Perma-Smile. Do you think a husband ever walked in the door at night, kissed his bride on the cheek and asked, "How was your day, sweetie?" Only for her to answer, "Actually, it was rather quite shitty, dear."

No it doesn't.

The WORST Question You Could Ask a New Mom

As I settle into my third month of motherhood, I’m getting used to being asked tons of questions.

And I’m happy to answer most of them. As most New Moms would be.

There are three questions, however, that I think are taboo. These questions should never, ever be asked of a New Mom.

First: “Are you getting enough sleep?”

Sure, everyone knows that all new moms are sleep deprived, so maybe you’re just looking for confirmation. However, this question insinuates that she looks tired, which is almost worst than saying ‘You look tired’ because it shows you don’t have the guts to outwardly insult her; so instead you’re going to hint at the fact that she has circles under her eyes darker than a Kardashian tan.

Second: “Do you think you’ll have another baby?”

Honestly, people, her oven hasn’t even cooled down yet! Right now New Mom is doing all she can to make sure her baby is fed, diapered and happy – all while trying to stay sane, keeping an every-other-day shower schedule, and making sure she’s wearing a bra when company shows up. Now’s not the time.

But the worst question – and I mean THE WORST question – you can ask New Mom is this: “When do you go back to work?”

A little part of me just died even writing the words.

How am I supposed to leave this face???

No new mother who is home caring for her new baby even wants to think about the day she has to change out her pajamas into her big girl clothes, kiss her little one good-bye for way longer than a nap, walk out the door and drive to the cruel place that is holding her hostage from her baby for 8-10 hours, causing her to miss every coo, smile and milestone.

So, please, do us all a favor and Just.Don’t.Ask.

When we found out we were having a baby, we made the decision that I would stay home with him on leave for as long as I could. Our son was born via surrogate, which meant I wasn’t able to take advantage of my company’s paid maternity leave, because I wasn’t physically giving birth (don’t even get me started). But I was able to take advantage of FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act), and in the state of Connecticut you can take up to 16 weeks (most states it’s 12 weeks). Plus, it took six years for our little nugget to get here, I was going to do everything possible to spend as much time as humanly possible with him.

I MAY be breaking every parenting rule out there by letting him 

nap on me all day but I don't care. I can't get enough of him. #sorrynotsorry

For those people who know me, they understand that I’m a severe Type A personality. I’m as organized as they come and a perfectionist, so I took my job very seriously. So they’ve been asking me about going back to work since my second week home. They know my job can be pretty demanding, with long hours and last-minute travel. These are all things that don’t mix well with having a baby at home.

And every time they would ask me when I was going back, I would muster up a smile and look them in eye, “The end of January. But we don’t talk about it.”

So instead, I play a little game of make believe in my head (and my own little world, apparently) that I’m not going back to work. It’s how I escape obsessing thinking about leaving Max every day.

Conversations in our house have been going something like this:

MR. KK: “When you go back to work…”

KK:  “What do you mean? I’m NOT going back to work.”

MR. KK: “Right, right. Well, IF you were going back to work, what time would we need to get Max up?”

KK:  “Well, I’m not. But if I were to guess a time in that horrible scenario, I’d say 6:30am.”

"Mommy? Please don't go."

Pretend is fun, but I’m a realist. So even though I’m not going back to work (wink, wink) we’ve started Max on the ‘When Mommy Goes Back To Work Schedule’, which pretty much starts to implement a regular time for him to get up in the mornings that allows me to wake him up, snuggle with him and feed him before I have to go to the place that is robbing me of spending time with my son work. The new schedule also allows me to have play time and bath time after I get home.

NOTE: Alternate names of this schedule are: ‘Mommy’s Sorry She’s Abandoning You Schedule’ and the ‘Watch Mommy's Heart Get Ripped Out Schedule’.

So please, ask me ANYTHING except you-know-what.

Because we’re not talking about that.

Is it still called multi-tasking if you're only doing one thing?

I'm on maternity leave.

It's kinda crazy. And it still sounds weird when I say it.

So what the hell have I been doing?

When people found out we were having a baby, they asked me if I thought I'd like maternity leave, or if I'd be bored and miss work.

Honestly, I had no idea what to expect. But I can assure you, that I don't miss work (sorry, guys!). 
Hey, they probably don't miss me, either!

So far my leave has been rather calm. Mostly because Maxwell is only a few weeks old, and he's still sleeping a lot. The first few weeks of maternity leave should be called "What you can get done in 3 hours". Because that's what I do each day – accomplish everything I can while Max naps.

(You know that saying, 'Nap when the baby naps'? Well, it's a crock of shit. If I nap when Maxwell naps I will have spent 20 hours of my day sleeping and getting zero done. I would like to rewrite that adage to: 'Multi-task your ass off when the baby is napping or you'll hate yourself'.)

I have a running 'to do' list that I keep close by. Each day something new gets added. On this list are things like, 'Organize hall closet', 'Change over Fall clothes' and 'Send Max's birth certificate into insurance company'. Some tasks are bigger than others, some require only 5 minutes of my time.

But each day, I have one goal: tackle ONE THING on this list.

Depending on how our night was, I could cross something off by 10am. On those days, I substitute other household things like laundry, dishes, or what has become the bane of my existence: washing and refilling bottles.

Bath time is still a two-person job. And Max is NOT a fan.

NOTE: this pic was taken thirty seconds before Max pooped in his towel on Rob's lap.

As if to say, "I shit on bath time, folks."

Being a Type A personality, this has been quite the adjustment. I'm used to being busy from the minute I wake up to the minute I go to sleep at night. Not that taking care of Max doesn't keep me busy, but the old me would have a zillion things to do WHILE taking care of him.

Pre-Max, even on the weekends I would get up and get to the grocery store by 7:30am (who wastes time lying in bed when you could be at the grocery store before anyone else?), come home and throw a load of laundry in, run errands, make lunch for the workers in our yard that day, cook for the week, do more laundry…and it would only be 3pm.

Multi-tasking has taken on a whole new meaning.

Aside from eating, sleeping and pooping, Max has tummy time, story time, and play time. When he's fussy, I dance around with him and sing to him. So far, he's really into my rendition of Beyoncé's "All the Single Ladies" and Phillip Phillips' "Home". And my "Itsy Bitsy Spider" isn't too shabby, either.

Wednesday's giraffe-themed story time.

The other awesome thing about having this time at home? I get to cook again! (And we don't eat dinner at 9:30pm every night!)

Rob comes home for lunch every day, so I get lunch ready each day. And every night, I cook us a fabulous meal. 

 Max's first meatloaf night!

 Grilled NY Strip with rosemary mushrooms and blue cheese risotto.

 Now THAT'S a roast chicken.

Ina Garten's recipe is the best!

 Oh, THIS old lunch? Just burrata with prosciutto and pesto. No biggie.

My in-laws homemade tortelli with a brown butter 

and roasted butternut squash sauce.

So if you're wondering how the leave is going? It's awesome. Not only do I get to bond with Maxwell, and watch him learn and grow, I get to do things I love to do…even blogging.

But what I love most is staring at this face all day long:

Of course, once my little munchkin decides all this sleeping isn't for him, the whole game will change.

Until then, bring on morning talk shows and the Food Network!