Mom life
Oh Sister Wife, Where Art Thou?
Maybe polygamists are onto something
Over Thanksgiving break with my husband’s family, we were discussing what it’s like to bring home a second child from the hospital through the eyes of the first. A fucking punch in the gut. My sister-in-law, who’s expecting her second, compared it to having your husband bring home a second wife.
“Hey honey, meet Dixie! She’s going to live here now. You two will be best friends! Go show her around.”
Everyone crinkled their noses in disgust at the thought. Everyone except me. “Wait a minute,” I blurted, “that would actually be amazing!!” It was one of those moments when brain and mouth fail to sync up on what stays inside brain, and what comes out mouth. Everyone awkwardly laughed.
I elaborated in the event they didn’t understand where I was going with this. Nope, not interested in a swinging threesome kind of deal. I’m wayyyyy too boring and vanilla for that. But an extra set of adult hands around the house, 24/7?! Yes, please! No really. Yes, please.
I went on to explain how incredible it would be with the husband traveling so much, and all those late nights he works. They had apparently moved beyond the topic of bringing home second wives and steered the conversation back to baby-toddler dynamics. Fair enough.
I, on the other hand, started to fantasize about my husband’s second wife. Nope, not sexually. See above about being boring and vanilla. I started to fantasize about all the things that would and could get done in a given day; how fucking productive we’d be.
You go to the grocery store while I volunteer at the kids’ 800th school event of the year. You walk the dog while I clean the kitchen. You take a break, while I make lunch. Maybe, just maybe we’d have the same taste in television. It would be so nice to have someone to watch Bling Empire with. My husband apparently has more important things to do, like sleep.
Would she too be addicted to Amazon? Oh the fun we’d have scouring the site for strange gifts for our husband and children. Would she enjoy the same podcasts? Would she not despise folding laundry like I do? Is she also obsessed with Curb your Enthusiasm? Does she like dogs? Would she be good at arts and crafts?
It would be lovely to have someone around who’s halfway decent at crafty things, and maybe even enjoys them. I can see it now — Dixie at the table with the boys, creating cheerful little crafts with popsicle sticks and googly eyes. I’d be in the kitchen making boeuf bourguignon or homemade ravioli, thinking about which wine to pair it with. Husband would wrap up his day in time for a nice, homemade meal that we’d all sit down and enjoy together.
This is the stuff that (my) fantasies are made of or maybe it’s why people hire au pairs. It’s all becoming so clear!! I suppose it’s also why certain cultures more than others embrace the idea of multi-generational living!
Granny and gramps aren’t moving in anytime soon, and until I am gainfully employed in some capacity, an au pair is off the table. In the meantime, I’ll continue to fantasize about the glorious day my husband walks in with Dixie.
Maybe all these creepy, vilified polygamous cults that I watch in horror on Netflix are actually onto something. Minus the marrying of underage girls. That’s obvious, but having another adult woman or several around to do all the doing and share a laugh in the meantime would be quite amazing. Everyone needs an extra wife in the mix.
Until then, I’ll continue to cook messy meals while yelling at my kids to get off their screens and kneeing the puppy while he’s jumping on me for some raw chicken. I’ll curse under my breath when my husband travels and the puppy needs to go out while I’m wrangling the children for dreaded bath time. I’ll stare at the pile of laundry in horror and panic, and I’ll watch Bling Empire alone, thinking of how it could be.
