Monday, May 11, 2009

Here's why I'm exhausted...

I want a wife. Just like in Judy Brady's short essay/story, I want a wife, too.

I want a wife who will take the boys to the park on a beautiful, sunny 80 degree Saturday afternoon while I work on stringing together something that resembles a chapter in a dissertation.

I want a wife who will cook a healthy, balanced dinner because I'm too busy grading the last of my English Comp I students' papers.

I want a wife who will finish washing, folding, and putting away the laundry while I answer the 100+ emails sitting in my 'inbox.'

I want a wife who will clean up the living room and kitchen while I read and put together an assignment/lesson on Chapter 12's discussion on integrating visuals/images into documents for my tech writing class.

I want a wife who will put kiddos to bed and read them bedtime stories--and not run out of the room after 2 minutes--while I compile notes on The Wasteland for my Brit Lit class.

I want a wife who will shop for groceries--always using her coupons and driving around for the best deals--while I read and respond to students' rough drafts.

I want a wife who will drive little boys to pediatric physicians/neurologists/ psychiatrists while I finish reading and taking notes on another book on "autism as mercury poisoning/braindamage/a disaster."

I want a wife who will explain to my 11 year-old son for the 100th time why I don't have the emotional strength, physical endurance, and/or financial reserves for a pet. Even though, I understand that "every kid needs a dog."

I want a wife who will fill out the 25 page educational assessment forms for the upcoming ARD while I have student conferences.

I want a wife who will attend ARD meetings while I teach class and hold office hours.

I want a wife who will remind me when I step on the bathroom scale that--despite my 10 pound weight gain and bloated and pale complexion--I look great.

I want a wife who will keep the bank account balanced so that I can buy groceries/gas/hair spray without worrying about whether there is any cash in the account.

I want a wife who will tell the cashier at Wal-Mart to "suck it" when my [autistic] son starts singing the theme song to Thomas the Tank Engine at the top of his lungs and she yells back to "Be quiet!"

I want a wife who will explain to my officemate, Keith, that this is just a really rough semester/year for me and that I promise I am not usually this manic/tired/depressed/anxious.

I want a wife who will reassure me that I'm doing a great job at work/school/home even though I feel like everything is slipping slowly through the cracks.

Like Brady concludes at the end of her essay, with all the tasks that a wife does, who wouldn't want one?!?

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