Brokeback Housewife

11 Jul

In May 2009, my husband, I moved in with my parents. Say what you want about that, but I took myself and my kids to a place where we would have love and support. I’m not a hardass, trying to prove a point by stressing myself out physically and emotionally. That’s just not me. Anyway, I wasn’t cleaning my house at that time. Shortly afterward, complications from an earlier car wreck (10 years earlier) crept up on me and left me nearly bedridden. September 2010, I had the rods that were put in right after my wreck removed. For so long, I was incapable and I forgot that cleaning and cooking was necessary once I was capable again.
My house went to shit.

After my stressed out husband got to his breaking point from coming home from work, taking care of the yard,  taking care of the house, and cooking dinner, plus changing a pull-up or two, we had a heart to heart. Okay, it was more like WWIII up in this place! After the smoke cleared, I realized that he was right. Oww… that was painful to type. Still, it’s true. I’d had enough time to heal that a load of dishes and running a vacuum wouldn’t hurt me. It has taken quite some time, a lot of effort, and has been a real struggle, but I’ve been working to get back in the swing of things for a few months now. To think, this was hard for me BEFORE the previous-surgery issues came up and then, this last surgery. Oy!


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