I Am The Housewife…coo coo cachoo

My name is Hayley, and I am a housewife. There, I’ve said it. I have accepted my unemployed (by choice…ish) status and gone all 1950s on your ass. I am a housewife!! Pass me my pinny would you? I don’t want my meringue to burn.

Of course, I am very lucky in that I have the opportunity to stay at home with my daughter for now. If someone offered me an amazing job that somehow left me enough to live on after childcare and travel, I don’t think I’d take it anyway as the idea of my little biscuit in a nursery is a bit hard to swallow. She would be fine, but I wouldn’t. So that’s what I mean by choice-ish. Whilst I like the idea of dusting off the mass of lumpy semolina that I think may once have been my brain cells, mother nature and her pesky invisible umbilical cord says no. As does my darling intended, who works his (rather lovely) backside off every day so that our daughter can spend her first few years hanging out with mummy.

So there you have it! A housewife am I. My first act as a housewife was, of course, to hand my notice in at work. Despite that face that I’ve spent the past year or two complaining about my job and how boring/unchallenging/underpaid/[insert your own generic work gripe here] it is, I still rather liked it. I liked my colleagues and I liked my actual workplace and there was a branch of Office just down the road, a fact which i think you’ll find cancels out any problems with the actual job itself. “Lucky you!” cooed my colleagues, “not coming back!”, while I eyed their beautifully heeled feet, a stark comparison to my flip flop clad hooves, and echoed – a bit half heartedly – “yeah….lucky me….”

Pros and cons of being a housewife:


1. No annual appraisal (I don’t think, unless “please stop tidying my cufflinks away in random places” counts.)

2. No travel to work (although that means no amusing anecdotes from the train journey and certainly, as previously mentioned, no Arguing Girl On The Train).

3. I get to hang out with my daughter all day.

4. The annual consumption of skinny lattes in this country has probably tripled since I started maternity leave. Good news for those in the coffee industry! In fact, there are two new cafes in my local high street, which is probably the result of somebody looking at the coffee consumption stats of the area and deducing that we needed more cafes. Little did they know it was all down to me.


1. Disappointingly for me, it is not, in fact, the 1950s. These days it’s not really the done thing to wear lipstick and heels to be a housewife. Ditto a headscarf. Ditto a little shopping trolley on wheels. Ditto everything that I would be wearing in my fantasy view of a housewife.

2. Duties: I like cooking and don’t mind cleaning, and it goes without saying that I love looking after my baby. But today I had to fix the washing machine (I failed). Surely in the olden days I would have just Got A Man In. Why didn’t I Get A Man In? Oh that’s right, it’s because we haven’t got any money n0w, because i am a housewife.

3. It’s not a job that offers much opportunity for brain use. The things I think about are: what to cook for dinner, what the second verse is to Row Row Row Your Boat, and do i have enough time to puree this veg while Harry The Bunny is on.

4. No potential for promotion.

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3 Responses to I Am The Housewife…coo coo cachoo

  1. scribcrib says:

    I don’t think it’s that disappointing for you that it’s NOT the 1950s.

    Not quite after you read this:

    Really looking forward to what you have to say.

    • hayley says:

      Oh, I have plenty to say about that! Just as soon as I get a second, i’m simply run off my feet baking macaroons and bathing the children. Stay tuned, I will be back….

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