My greatest ideal is to be a housewife.
After becoming a housewife, I can spend more time with my children.
No longer restricted by nine to five, no business trips, no meetings, no reports. You don't have to toss and turn in the middle of the night every day, and you have to cook a simple breakfast under dark circles the next morning.
Parents and children's daily listening time can be extended indefinitely. Whenever the child calls for his mother, I can put down what I am doing and run to him.
All the trifles during the day can be put off until tomorrow. I just want to be a mother who will accompany her children wholeheartedly when they need it. Instead of listening and interrupting in a hurry like this.
I can get up early, make fried eggs into hearts, make tomatoes into the sun, spread chocolate sauce on bread and draw a sweet smile.
I can go to bed early, with a quiet lamp, a children's book and a warm and gentle reading before going to bed. Instead of throwing dirty clothes into the washing machine like this and shouting "Hurry up and do your homework!"
Every day, I will hold my child's hand and watch him walk into the school gate. I will also stay in the street after school early and wave at the happy little guy looking around. Instead of swearing in the monster-like traffic every night during the rush hour, I rushed to that little waiting anxiously.
My lovely child, borrow mine, and slowly grow into himself. His thoughts are so bright and mysterious that he belongs to a future world that I can't reach.
Even though I am so mediocre and anxious, he still loves me. Even in the face of my scolding and crying that I will never talk to you again in my life, I will take the initiative to touch my hand soon, secretly observe my expression with big wet eyes, and then hug me with joy.
My child, always love me more than I love him.
I can become a warmer lover after becoming a housewife.
I will clean the teak floor every morning when the sunshine is the best, while listening to the melodious guqin music, and wipe it with a soft cloth, so that it can slowly reveal the original wet and mellow color of the wood in the sun.
I'll take the washed clothes to the yard to dry. The white shirt spread out and fluttered in the wind, like flapping white wings. Instead of hanging them on the balcony and closing the heavy glass windows, they are left unattended. Although glass is transparent, it is lifeless, just like the eyes of a fish out of water. Through its sunshine, it is also dying, emitting lazy heat.
I will walk to the food market, listen to the noise, look around for rounder white mushrooms, greener green peppers and more moist tender leeks, and then carry them home happily and easily. You don't have to go to the vegetable market every week, drag a few baskets of vegetables home, throw them in the huge refrigerator, and then look sad at the yellow leaves and dehydrated peppers for a week.
I will carefully consider the menu to see what soup is more nourishing and what collocation is more suitable for this season. Even if you make a bowl of egg drop soup, you should also consider color matching. Carefully chop the coriander and sprinkle it on the hot noodle soup, just like a green bird flapping its wings on a soft cloud.
I will burn a stove of incense, wait for my lover to come home, hear the doorbell ring quickly and give him a gentle hug. I will smile at his smiling eyes and ask him enthusiastically how his day is going. Late at night, I will snuggle up to him, listen to his deep and mellow bass whispering in my ear and fall asleep slowly.
My delicate and strong lover, how much hardship and sadness I have paid in order to be with me. Even if I am so grumpy now, he will quietly calm me down until I grow up.
My love, he loves me more than I do!
I can be more true to myself after becoming a housewife.
You don't have to change your mind to cater to the preferences of leaders, and you don't have to write some plans and summaries that you don't believe in. I can write some words that belong to me more faithfully. Maybe it is clumsy, maybe it shines like broken gold. Whatever it looks like, it belongs to me. I write my heart by hand, and my heart is very comfortable.
I will pick up the brush and carefully draw a kingfisher and two lotus leaves with meticulous brushwork, surrounded by painters with thick ink and light ink. Like writing a melodious flute, the years are long.
I will step on the stone road covered with sunshine and buttonwood leaves and measure the city where I live inch by inch. Or drive a small RV to see people and scenery in other places and feel the same feelings and life.
I will never miss my favorite art exhibitions and every gallery with different styles again. I will step into the ivory tower-like university class again, choose a course I missed at the beginning and open another window of my life.
I want to start singing again, so that my voice, which is dumb because of fatigue, becomes warm and bright again. I'm going to meet different people and see more colorful world and different scenery.
I haven't seen you for years, and you are wronged. In every dead of night, you subconsciously looked at me with pity eyes and quietly healed me.
Myself, love me more than I love her!
When I finished these fantasies, I suddenly found that there are many things I can do now, and I don't have to wait for leisure or opportunities. Waiting is like Meng Po Tang blindly mixed with paralyzing agent, which makes people forget themselves slowly, forget the future and stop to watch: this colorful and hurried life is filled with morning fog, stars setting, lights everywhere and the night is boundless.
My children, my love, myself, I'm late, and I'm already on my way.