By B. Pavicic of Coffee, Lipstick, and Laundry

I recently came across a post on Pinterest from Housekeeping Monthly dated May 13, 1955. The article, entitled The Good Wife’s Guide, was meant to help wives maintain a happy home. With gems like “A good wife always knows her place” and “Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes.” I vacillated between laughter and horror. Reading it made me realize how much has changed in the last six decades. Below are five excerpts from The Good Wife’s Guide and how I compare to the ideal 1950s wife.

The Good Wife’s Guide: Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work weary people.

As a stay at home mom, I am pretty damn exhausted by the end of the day. Chasing two active toddlers, keeping up with household chores, making meals, and cleaning up our geriatric cat’s vomit means that there aren’t many opportunities for “me” time. If I try to “take 15 minutes to rest,” one of my children will likely attempt a death defying feat that has the potential to land us in the emergency room. So while most days I will be showered and wearing something other than pajamas, I won’t be the fresh-faced vixen with a hair bow and a smile. Grade: C. Needs improvement.

The Good Wife’s Guide: Don’t complain if he’s late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

Being late for dinner is one thing; staying out all night is another story. If my husband goes incommunicado and stays out all night, there’s a good chance I’ll assume he’s lying half-dead in a ditch by the side of the road. And if he isn’t, he’ll wish he was when he finally crawls through the door. Grade: B. Fair.

The Good Wife’s Guide: Don’t greet him with complaints and problems.

So I shouldn’t mention how our 19-month-old just tried to flush my iPhone down the toilet while I was frantically scrubbing crayon off the wall? Or how the air conditioner is making that howling noise again? Life with small children is filled with distractions. This, combined with years of sleep deprivation, means that if I don’t mention something now, I will probably forget until the house floods or something equally disastrous happens. Grade: D. Consider getting help.

The Good Wife’s Guide: Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children’s hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

Dad coming home from work is akin to the second coming of Christ in my house. Despite the fact that I feed, clothe and generally meet all of my children’s basic needs, they are far more excited to see Dad at the end of the day than boring, old me. Because of this, they will run, jump, and dance around like little monkeys as he walks through the door. Quiet is not an option. Also, my husband wouldn’t know the difference between a kid’s pair of pajamas and an outfit meant for special occasions. As long as they are clothed or partially clothed, he doesn’t care. Grade: C. Needs improvement.

The Good Wife’s Guide: Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first – remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. 

After a brutal commute home, the last thing my husband wants to do is talk about his day. So instead, he reaches for a snack and checks Twitter while I babble incessantly, stream-of-consciousness-style, because I am so excited to have a conversation that doesn’t involve time-outs, poop, or Thomas the Train. Grade: F. Take a remedial course in wifely duties.

So there you have it. I fall far short of The Good Wife’s Guide standards. Had I lived through this decade, I would have been a spinster with hair ribbons and a house full of vomiting cats.

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About the Author

B. Pavicic is a blogger and mother of two boys. You can read more of her work at Coffee, Lipstick and Laundry.