The effect on me of my boyfriend asking my preference in engagement rings last week manifested itself in my desire to make him breakfast last Saturday morning. Suddenly I wished for bread worthy of French Toast (no Freedom Toast shall be made in this home!) and eggs... and a stove. (I do have a two burner counter top unit, and most of my pans rescued from storage, including the pull-my-shoulder-from-the-socket if I have to hold it for longer than 3 seconds cast-iron pan I nearly laid over my ex-fiance's head when he gave it to me on our third Christmas instead of the engagement he'd for 14 months lied about saving money for)
So why the Betty Crocker dreams? I have not in 16 months of courtship cooked for this man. Honestly with school on top of work since last October I have been too busy to cook for myself other than the occasional cheap whole chicken tossed into a pot of seasoned boiling water.
Growing up I aspired to be a horse trainer, or a published writer, or an editor or a farmer- these things would do. What I wanted most to be was a house wife, now labeled a ***SAHM***. I was reading Hints From Heloise and Erma Bombeck, Good Housekeeping and Parents magazine by age 12. I wanted to cook and clean and be pregnant, swear to God. It was all planned out- married by 23, four kids by 30.
(someone is bound to be offended- but see, I was an only child until age 6, and my mom was a SAHM until I was nearly 16)
Except I can't carry a baby, and here I am at 33 still single. And I still want to be a SAHM.
So what happens often is that I wander off to play with the little kids at family parties, and I want to wash your dishes when I come over, and when I am home very much or especially when I co-habitate, I want to clean and decorate, sew and run errands, make the sink faucets sparkle, garden and paint, cook a wholesome dinner every night and send my significant other off to work with natural peanut butter and jelly on whole grain bread.
And I am extraordinarily fascinated by and drawn to pregnant mammals.
*** No I don't think it is easy to be a SAHM, and as I seep deeper into thirties and watch my peers parent I wonder if I could do it all. Keeping an entire household running and being responsible, at the bare minimum, for raising a human being to reach his or her greatest potential? Now that's some serious stuff. ***