A few years after my sister Christina married, she recommended a book to both my mother and me."It has changed my outlook on what it means to be a good wife and improved my marriage," she exclaimed.
My mother showed interest, but when I saw the title, Fascinating Womanhood, I couldn't help but cringe. It reminded me of one of those corny, what's-happening-to-my-body videos that every prepubescent girl was forced to sit through in health class.
Having witnessed the reaction, Christina tried to persuade me.
"It discusses practical things--like how a woman should plan what kind of meals she is going to serve her husband, how she should spend a few extra minutes getting dressed before he comes home from work, and how a relationship is improved if a woman keeps her house clean," she said.
"What kind of crap is this?" I asked snarkily. "The June Cleaver Theory of Relationships? When was it written? 1953 or something?"
"No, more like 1963," she answered, resolute in her evaluation of the book's worthiness.
I passed on reading Fascinating Womanhood because it offended my 20-something sensibilities and felt demeaning somehow. Back then, I worked as many, if not more, hours than my husband of the time. I questioned why I should be solely responsible for the meals and housework. I also wondered why should I feel compelled to put lipstick on for my husband everyday, when he would rarely wear an ironed shirt. Fifteen years later, I still think these questions are fair.
So when a blogger recently asked me how I spent my days here in Germany, my answer surprised me as I uttered the words.
"I see my job as this: making life as easy for my husband as possible. He works so hard--12 hour days or more--here in Germany. My role is to make his life outside work comfortble. What's good for him, is good for both of us."
Egads!!! Fascinating Womanhood? Hardly. Even though the book is still in existence and in its 6th edition, it is was something else--something I like to call Fascinating Manhood-- that triggered my change of heart. What I mean is my husband makes it easy for me to aspire to be a modern-day June Cleaver.
Max does everything to please me and asks nothing in return. For instance, even though Max wakes up in the wee hours every weekday morning, he jumps out of bed on the weekends to walk Charlie and bring me coffee in bed. He's the guy who not only brings home the bacon, but will also pitch in and cook it as well. I am certainly one lucky gal.
So it feels natural to, in all my hausfrau ways, go about my daily routine with Max in mind, striving to do my best for him. But with all of this said, please don't think I have changed my ways and started dressing like June Cleaver. Now *that* would be a Fasicnating Transformation, indeed!
