Yes, I wrote ‘awesome’. I know it’s misused but I’m not exaggerating the excellence of having a housewife. But, the typical complaint today would have nothing to do with the superlative I used; rather, the fact that I had anything nice to say about motherhood and home-making at all. This pseudo-feminism, which currently strangles our beloved Western civilization with a dead fallopian tube, preaches: move to the city; have a career; and screw around until your ovaries are borderline useless because kids are yucky.
Most, whose biological clocks continue ticking, eventually realise they’ve aged worse than the men and the only ones still unmarried are either too nutty or too fruity, like the rejects from a box of chocolates. These women have lost a depressing amount of sexual marketplace value.
In short, modern women have been defrauded of the enjoyment of their natural impulses and greatest ability.
Yes, greatest! The stigma seeded by the state and propagated by the media is against the ‘stay at home’ mother who doesn’t pursue the empty and unrealistic Sex and the City ‘adventure’. Staying at home is the last way I’d describe how bloody difficult it is, but the West is increasingly void of real men to stick up for them.
Today, the state can just pull up, milk their taxes from two cash-cows (to prop up the runaway, Keynesian, consumerist economy) and no one is there to protect or lead. Moreover, all the women who must now work in order to get a mortgage help to enforce the taboo. They speak of our beloved housewives with such disdain and catty jealousy. All this is killing the West in no uncertain terms; in my father’s generation, an average working class family could get a decent mortgage on a single wage and have hope for their children’s future.
Thankfully, my wife and I decided to have our children in our 20’s and pursue other ambitions later.
She is intelligent, qualified and capable of higher-earning, professional work. Furthermore, when it comes to housework she is not so much a domestic goddess, more of a lonely rural priest, riddled with doubt and hitting the sauce. So why on earth do I defend and even venerate my housewife?
1. She produced my babies.
Don’t recoil at this is cliché. Yes, even women in comas have popped out offspring. Furthermore, there are plenty of sub-intelligent untermensch giving breeding a bad name. But, unless you have children, you’re probably still focused on finding your next lay, not understanding what your genetic programming is trying to do. Children are not only the greatest joy you can have, they give you some investment in the tribe, a reason to behave with honour and maybe even pride in one’s culture.
Baby-makers are super-precious and in need of defending and celebrating. If you love Western Civilization and remain unaffected as you stand at the cliff-side of our dropping middle class birth rates, don’t stop to read A Farewell to Alms, just befriend and commit to a good woman, who respects men, and make some sweet love. Nature will take care of the rest.
2. She is an emotional port in the storm of life.
Whereas I try to toughen up my kids by describing the harsher truths of reality, simply wiping away the tears and telling them they’re fine, my wife is soft and home-making keeps her that way. Even when the children aren’t really crying, they know they can get affection from mother dearest. They know a mother’s love – always affectionate and warm, even if there isn’t perfect understanding or even if it’s not entirely deserved. That maternal instinct is hugely powerful and important from an evolutionary perspective.
As well as ensuring my son knows how to identify maternal care in a potential mate and to steer clear of the ice queens, it also provides us chaps with a friend to listen. Of course, women want their men to be strong, the whole world expects men to be tough, but if they have that maternal instinct, they become an occasional confidant to whom we can open up about our misgivings. This strengthens a marriage/pair-bond and keeps families together through the long human childhood. Most importantly, however, as a housewife, she is always around! If she’s coming home late, exhausted and stressed out by work, the right moment never comes to have that supportive chat.
3. Her looks will fade, but her cooking will only get better.
The way to a man’s heart is not just through his stomach; his penis is obviously the highway. But, as that road gets old, the traffic lights don’t work so well and…potholes. Let’s be honest: women worry that when their looks fade, the man will leave and (aside from the revenge, money and state welfare resulting from the modern divorce case) they’re not going to lure another man with ease, even with an ex’s money. But, when she devotes more of her time to creating the joys of a home for us, this relieves any worries for the future. My wife makes some of my favourite meals and is getting better all the time. That’s leverage! I am always making more of an emotional investment in the family environment. And she happily knows that I couldn’t get the same anywhere else and, even though we pass through rough patches, I’ll stay.
4. She embraces her biological role which makes me want to be more manly.
When a woman strives to be more feminine, it highlights the degree of masculinity in the man. Furthermore, when she finds joy in being a woman, making the nest and producing offspring, it makes me want to find joy in being a better man. But, what is a man? The more I discovered, the more I wanted and the more I realised our masculine culture of honour has been replaced with one where the state does everything for us, including fatherhood. It was the veneration of the mother which brought me to venerate patriarchy and to recognise the loose foundations upon which Western Civilization currently rests. As Fulton Sheen put it, ‘To a great extent, the level of any civilization is the level of its womanhood.’ The more we learn about ourselves, the better-equipped we will be to make lasting repairs to those loose foundations.