My primary issue with Resolutions, other than being completely incapable of keeping to them for a period of more than seven days, is that you make them at the wrong time of year. There is a hiatus after the excesses of eating, drinking, present giving and general good cheer that go with Christmas during which I sit and dwell on those excesses and determine that next year I shall be better organised so I don’t spend so much money. I shall plan the meals better so that I don’t eat so much, I shall exercise, I shall, well, you get the idea. Thus when asked what my resolutions are for the sparkling clean slate that is the year ahead a mere seven days after Santa’s visit and just as I am finishing the last of the Turkey, of course I am going to say that I want to be thinner, healthier, more frugal. And as I sit in the comfort of my armchair, blogging when I should be doing my Tax Return, I am so very glad that I am not dwelling in misery any longer. Last year was arduous, so just making it to January 1st was enough to restore balance in my life. My primary objective for this year is therefore simple: to be better.

I have spent January getting back to daily life, not just as it currently is, with school runs and play dates and so on, but also as it used to be. Last year at this time I was wedged into the very same armchair in the decidedly cold sitting room, unable to do anything due to the limitations of my SPD. A few weeks later therefore, when Dimples arrived, the last vestiges of the routine that I had spent 21 months building with the Threeva went out of the window. A year on, we are at last getting back on track. I feel like I could actually, with a bit of hard work and practise, make a reasonable stab at being a Stay at Home Mother. The days when the Threeva isn’t at school (which most normal people would call nursery) we do some craft together, or have lunch. Sometimes we go out or visit Granny or go to a class. These things we do in the way that I imagine proper SAHM do with their children. I’ve realised that she actually enjoys spending time with me, that she learns from the things we do together. When we do the school run, we listen to audio books or talk about our days. I don’t think that we ever did that before. Likewise, I have a chance during the week to spend time alone with Dimples, to play with her or take her to playgroup. I have taught her to clap and saying ‘Dog’ (Threeva’s first word too!) She nods and shakes her head if you ask her questions and she potters at my feet very happily as I bake in the kitchen. I am no longer her boob-slave. During our day-to-day lives I have realised that my personality is once again emerging as theirs does. I am being a better mother.

I am being a better wife too: OK, I still suck at getting laundry done but I am baking and cooking. I am making sure that things are mended, that Gas men are booked in, that the car gets its MOT. I am interested in DH’s day. I even sometimes stay awake long enough to say goodnight!

I was astonished today to discover that Domestic Goddesque has, for the first time, made it onto the Tots 100 list, which has thrilled me beyond all reasonable pre-watershed descriptions. This is proof positive that I am a better blogger than I have been in the last few years. I have delighted myself too since, as my routine finally emerges from the first year fug, I find that there is always a time slit in the day for me to write. And that the writing gives me back a little bit more of myself. It’s the opposite of a vicious cycle: a positive cycle. An uplifting cycle. It’s a cycle I want to continue throughout this year as I work to be better at the things I do best: housekeeping, mothering, wife-ing. It’s a cycle that has made me believe that writing a book is a possibility this year and, in tandem with that, a business idea that I have been carrying around in my head for a while. There’s nothing linear about my Goals for 2011: they wouldn’t make good bullet points on a PowerPoint presentation. But they are there, emerging like green shoots in the spring.

This post was written for the Mum’s the Blog Business Blog Carnival, prompted by the idea of Goals for 2011.

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Current state of affairs at DG Manor

Up until pregnancy and long-term house guests meant that I delegated control of the cooking to others., I have to say that I’ve been pretty good at this one. But I did work from home part-time so I had did have the time (less since the arrival of the PD, but enough nevertheless) to be able to plan and buy ingredients and cook a yummy meal for my beloved DH. That said, I never cooked for two and invariably had leftovers. Either we would eat these the following day, saving me the effort of having to cook on a day when I had been in London working, or I would be able to make them into something else. It’s not hard to use leftover mince to make a Shepherd’s Pie, or to turn the remains of a roast chicken into a pie or risotto. And I have in fact served a variety of these things to guests.

Conclusion

Once again, at the moment I do very little (although I do actually have Nigella’s Gammon in Cherry Coke on the stove as I write *gasp*) though I do regularly churn out cakes and biscuits, as this very blog can attest to. They often take less time to do and can be done with PD in tow. I do, however, think that in an age where there are real concerns about the Environment and Food Waste and so on, (and remembering my nan talk about how little they had during and long after the War,) that it is perfectly acceptable to serve leftovers whether for guests or my beloved. I’d like to think they would appreciate the sentiment as well as the food. Of course when there are places like Cook who do all the work for you, there’s nothing wrong in faking it either.

Score

A mixed bag, I guess, so probably 6/10 on the grounds that I do cooksupper for my beloved, but often serve leftovers.  It has to be said that he’s never complained though, particularly about the cakes!!

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Anyway, for the next few weeks, I’m going to take one rule at a time and see if a) it’s relevant b) I can do it and c) whether DH notices my attempts at 1950′s wifedom.

Rule #1: A Wife’s Duty
A man’s home is his castle and as such, he ought to be treated like a king. When he returns home from a demanding eight hours on the job (or more!), he rightfully deserves a bit of pampering. It’s every wife’s responsibility to dote upon her hard-working spouse, to show that he is truly appreciated.

Current state of affairs at DG Manor
DH returns home after a demanding more-than-eight-hours at work. (If this miraculously occurs before PD goes to bed, he throws off his coat, says hello to the dog and goes off to deal with PD.) He empties the dishwasher, cooks supper, deals with the laundry and puts the fire on then remembers to say hello to me, at which point I burst into tears of pain and frustration. To be fair this is abnormal: he takes on much more than his fair share when I suffer from SPD. Thank the Lord for Wedding Vows.

Conclusion
I am fully aware that being a stay-at-home-parent is NOT a cop-out, or an easy life. I know that if I wasn’t at home to run the house, look after PD and WH and make sure that DH is fed, clothed and the house runs ‘smoothly’ that he would not be able to concentrate fully on his job, which is demnading of time and brain cells. Still, I am very aware (sometimes I feel quite uncomfortable about this) that he is responsible for earning the cash that I spend making all the above happen. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to recognise this and give him the credit. I do pamper him: I tell him I love him, probably far more than he can really bear and, at the moment particularly, in a slightly clingy fashion. But I do tell him. I do make efforts to  give him a lie-in at the weekend and I do get him ‘little somethings’ when I am out and about, to show that I have been thinking about him. That said, when the weekend comes, after 5 days of looking after the PD for 12 hours a day, he gets all the smelly nappies. It’s the 2010′s after all!

Score
Not bad. Obvious disability aside, I’d give myself a solid 7/10 (can’t you just hear Len Goodman?!) for my efforts.

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