Homemaker Stories

As I noticed, her brain was more like a 'lifehacker' in a brown, plump and fairly heightened woman's body. She was un-educated by the standards of schools and universities but fairly versed with the bilateral nature of life.

Nearly a decade into my second marriage, I count my blessings. I ask myself daily if my wife would commit to a lifetime with me all over again if she could go back in time. In Today's society, we see women strive for independence and are goal-oriented in their careers. As men, we should admire women in their roles, whether in their careers or at home. In this writing, I strive for humility to ensure that my wife's expectations of me are met. I recognize her duty and her sacrifice.

Coming to peace with my inner seamstress

This story tells about the value of homemaker.It defines the daily routine of a house wife.Woman's work never ends..She never gets weekend off ..Respect her efforts. This story must be an answer for many husbands..

In October 1929 the stock market didn't crash. In September 1939 World War 2 did not begin. Instead an economic boom continued and increased in the ever rising United States. Instead of focusing on economic problems or beating the Axis the country focused on their main problem, at least to the eyes of the many rich politicians, the FBI and the business men they were all in cahoots with. Anti-American ideas, Anti-Capitalism and the rise of Communism. That's why the government funded "Culture Schools" began to pop up all over the United States. These schools taught the glories of capitalism and skills necessary to improving stature in life. It also taught you that women were under men, the poor were under everybody and the white man was above everybody. Yet you wouldn't notice it when you went to these schools, nobody notices it until they see these ideals stuck in the minds of their former classmates around them. The neighborhood of Garden Circle is full of alumni like this. From Damsel who's a doormat for her man to walk on, to Dodgers who wanted a light skin daughter but ended up with a child dark as night, to Apple who's uppity and hates the poor, to Gardenia and Vincent who can't stand "nappy" hair. But the 1960s are a time for change, even in this America. Maybe the people in this little neighborhood will change too.

A short article about my late mother and other women homemakers

The fish always smelled when Mitali put her hand in the endearing bag , known for carrying quantities of fish every Sunday. Vegetables of all shapes and sizes were brought in. Mitali was seen as the converter of the raw materials into the mouth watering goodies for the family. "Tia" (her pet name) yelled someone. The lady of the house, the mother in law, the sovereign swept in with all the glory befitting her. She said "It is so hot. Tia, so many things have come, today relatives are coming over and look how thin my son is becoming. Cook 4-5 items before 1 pm.Tia glanced meekly at the time and realized she needed a miracle to produce all these items in such short notice without any flaws. She started the herculean task of preparing the feast. Tia remembered her mom and exam times. Her mom always assured her that marks or no marks she would get married and her role was to satisfy her husband and his family. She considered herself lucky as she had some time to herself in the afternoons where she wrote. She enjoyed writing about frivolous things. That was her escape, her life within her existence, the freedom within the walls. Time ticked as she toiled towards completion. Tia quickly bathed and drapped the saree , the wet hair dripping on her back, she smeared sindoor on the parting of her hair and made a round bindi on her forehead. The guests arrived. Tia graciously welcomed them by touching their feet. The serving followed, everyone ate noisly. She looked up at Ma for any reassurance or praise. Nothing was said or gestured. No one inquired on whether she ate. She was used to it, she enjoyed her own company. In the afternoon, she wrote about the day .And her cooking. As she day dreamed. "Tia "she could hear her mother in law calling. Tia rudely woke up and ran down. The Grihini ( home maker) lived on in her world, secure in the existence carved out for her, protected and provided, alone yet hopeful, free yet bound but still very alive. The spirit lived on.

I kept replaying the scene over and over again. All I could see when I closed my eyes were flashes of it. His hips moving against hers, her hands on his desk, the way his head tilted back. It made me sick to my stomach. The sound of his flesh pounding into hers. The way she cooed out his name and giggled. She knew I was watching. She knew I would run down to his office the second I found those papers. I was set up. Mother of three Mia Coleman is devastated to find her husband bending another woman over his desk. As if the heartbreak wasn't enough she discovers pop star Benji Russell is the biological father of her children. Confused by her husband's actions Mia tries to pick up the pieces and find her true purpose in life. In the midst of working on his fourth studio album pop star Benji Russell receives a letter from a six year old girl claiming to be his biological daughter. Benji sets out to discover a life he never knew he wanted, with a woman he barely knows.