We all know the joke about being a golf widow where husbands disappear for the weekend — all day Saturday and Sunday — as they hit the greens. But there’s a new genre of women out there — one that has yet to be truly defined because no one wants to admit it. It’s called the corporate widow.
For years people referred to the corporate wife. The husband would go to work, and the wife would stay home or head off to her own job, all while taking care of the house, joyfully washing the laundry and cooking a lovely meal. Perhaps she would even sing a lovely tune as the birds joined in just like a real-life Cinderella (minus the kitten heels because no matter how good they look, they hurt like a mother). June Cleaver knew how to take care of her husband and her boys while being perfectly coiffed.
But it’s not all pretty aprons and bow-tied hair. Instead of trying to keep the house together, many of us are trying to keep ourselves together as our husbands are gone for the week… week after week after week.
Admit it. How many of us have left the house in our sweats (aka pajamas) to drop off the kids? Put on yesterday’s clothes? Showered in the last day? Between taking the kids to school, trying to clean up the bomb-shelter of a house and running to and from errands as well as after school activities, who has the time to take care of themselves?
And so to all of you corporate wives out there, I salute you. I salute your silence even though you may feel like screaming. I salute your perseverance when you feel like you can’t take one more child’s tantrum. I salute your patience with the children, even though the closet may seem like a perfectly reasonable option at the time. I salute your dedication to running a family, sometimes completely on your own, even though you may feel like laying on the floor while sipping a martini through a straw. Let’s face it, being a corporate wife is no bed of roses. But it wouldn’t hurt getting a dozen roses now and then.