I like an adventure. Big ones like vacationing or small ones like driving to the Bimart for snacks or totally unnecessary things like gel pens and kitchen gadgets. I'm usually up for just about anything. For the past few years though, I've felt less and less like leaving the house. This has made me feel a bit guilty at times but it's also made me delve deep into the "why" of this phenomena. I'm definitely NOT agoraphobic so forget that crazy idea! I just like to stay home I guess.
When my kids were little and I was in the thick of motherhood and the never-ending monotony of the mundane, even a quick trip to the grocery store felt like a little adventure. Honestly, doing just about anything with a herd of kids in tow always felt like an adventure. Am I right?! Also, when I was out of the house there was no one there to mess it up with dirty dishes or toys or whatever sorts of rubble kids create. I think I also enjoyed watching (aka judging...let's be honest) what was going on outside my own domain.
Now, I wish for long stretches of days where I don't have to leave the house. I can Instacart my groceries to the back door. I've got enough projects waiting for me to tackle that I never get bored. The basement has a well-equipped gym so I can get all sweaty without leaving the house. Why would I want to go anywhere else when I can sit on the back porch and drink some tea?
I have visited some really beautiful places but I have found nothing better than home.
Which brings me to the whole job/work thing. I didn't have one of those things for about 20 years. I was lucky that way. I stayed home and raised kids and played housewife. I was good at it too! It wasn't perfect and there were plenty of times that I felt like I was contributing, to society or my household. But I loved it and will never regret the time and energy I dedicated to being the typical 1950's woman. Or 1880's woman, depending on whether I was churning butter...
I got a job about 10 years ago. I had to. It was hard in the beginning, things were such a departure from the lifestyle I had always known. Slowly though, we all acclimated and I found a new kind of stability. And a strength that I needed and hadn't realized I possessed. I was actually supporting my family. On my own! I was poor as the proverbial church mouse, but I was doing it.
Fast forward a few years. I still have a job and I'm lucky enough to actually love it. At least most of the time. And I'm lucky enough to have found someone to share life's burdens with; financially, physically, emotionally. I don't have to live like a spiritual rodent anymore! There are times that I remember, all too clearly, the feelings of uncertainty and fear about how, or if, I was going to make it. I was scared a lot of the time back then. I think that fear is what keeps me going to work every day. I don't want to every be back in that daunting place again.
Lately though, I've felt this little niggling remembrance about how nice it was to "just be a housewife." To spend my days taking care of the house and the yard. Growing the garden. Cooking and baking. Making our house so cozy and comfortable for everyone in it. I miss the freedom. Time wasn't as pressing.
I suppose that's exactly why I don't like to leave home now. Everything I want and love is right here and I value being home above just about everything else.
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