Confessions of a Domestic Failure

When we arrived at the house, everything was locked up, just as Fran?ois had promised. The door swung open and all was dark. It wasn’t until David flipped on the light that I saw it. I gasped. It was a whole new house. Everything sparkled and shone.

Even David said “Wow” under his breath. “I’m going to put Aubrey down,” he said gently, before heading upstairs. I could barely reply as I looked around.

It was like walking into one of those home-and-garden magazines. The wooden floors were brighter than I’d ever seen them. I floated into the kitchen and, as the light flooded it, I was dazzled. Nothing was out of place and everything looked so fresh, like it was right off the assembly line. I couldn’t find a speck of grime or a crumb anywhere. I opened a cabinet, and instead of almost being buried in plastic containers falling out, found everything stacked neatly.

I wandered into the living room. The furniture. It was even more beautiful than the catalog had promised. The living room set was perfectly placed and screamed “luxury.” Aubrey’s toys were nowhere to be seen—I lifted up the soft leather ottoman and found them tucked out of sight. They’d even thrown in a large chestnut area rug and several beautiful wooden spheres for the mantel. Was this really my house? I collapsed onto the couch and it supported and hugged my body at the same time. It all certainly looked like $8,000. Or more. I felt like I was in an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, only in a parallel universe where I’d only get to enjoy these things for less than a month before we had to sell them online to afford utilities.

I wrung my hands together. I looked at the corner where Aubrey had rolled over for the first time on the colored mats that were nowhere to be found. I guess Shelly thought they didn’t fit in with the décor. I stared at the middle of the floor, where I’d spent more afternoons than I could count folding laundry while Aubrey lay on her back and tried to bite her toes. The laundry was gone; finally put away. Everything was how I’d always wanted it, but not at all right. For the past ten months I’d felt trapped in this house, and now it was all going away.

I curled up on the oversized couch, tucked my knees into my chest and cried.





Sunday, March 3, 9:30 A.M.

David barely spoke this morning, other than to tell me that a Realtor was coming to look at the house sometime this week. I couldn’t believe this was really happening. He said if we couldn’t find a place to rent for the right price, he’d have to ask his mom if we could stay with her for a few months.

He’d already put in résumés with marketing firms, but in the meantime, he said we were in what he called “money-saving mode.” I think that was code for “don’t spend another $8K on furniture, please.” What he didn’t seem to understand was that I was the one who would be staying home with Aubrey and his mom all day. He asked me if I wanted to go back to work and have Gloria watch the baby, and suddenly all I wanted to be was a stay-at-home mom.

For the past ten months I’d been complaining about how hard life was and not realizing how hard it could get.

I looked over to where Aubrey was sleeping peacefully on her back in her playpen. The last Motherhood Better Bootcamp call was tomorrow. I’d submitted my Home Challenge diary entry already.

Hi everyone,

I’d like to thank Emily for the amazing work her team did on my home. It’s cleaner and more organized that I’ve ever seen it. It’s how I always dreamed my house would look. The new Verdanza living room set is an absolute dream. My home looks incredible. The only thing I could ask for now is for great memories to be had in it.

Ashley Keller

I included Before and After photos, and everyone oohed and aahed in the comments. The difference really was striking, but it all felt so hollow. It was such a cruel twist of fate for me to finally have the house I wanted but to have to give it away in two weeks.

The one piece of good news was that I’d be flying out to Napa this week for the Motherhood Better Bootcamp Finale. Did I mention that I was going to be on TV? No? That’s because I only just found out. Emily posted in the portal early this morning that we’d be spending Thursday relaxing in outdoor hot tubs, being treated to massages, and getting a personalized makeover. But on Friday we’d be broadcasting live on The Emily Walker Show to announce the winner.

At this point, I’m not holding my breath. While I was conning my way into mom groups and working for phone sex companies, Janice Paulsen from Minnesota lost twenty-five pounds and raised $20,000 for a charity that matches foster children up with available families. Heather Logan has pumped over 300 ounces of breast milk for preemies, and Naomi Price knitted 150 quilts for moms on bed rest in her local maternity ward.

Tomorrow is my last La Lait meeting before my trip and I’ve decided to come clean. Before the general announcements, I’m going to stand up and apologize to everyone for misleading them and beg them to let me stay. I owe them the truth.

Having to give up the house is putting everything into perspective. I can’t live any more lies.





Monday, March 4, 10:30 A.M.

The last Motherhood Better Bootcamp video chat was this morning. Emily looked as chipper as ever wearing her new line of athletic gear: EW Move. She had on a white crushed-velvet tracksuit with her initials monogrammed over the chest.

“Is everyone ready for our Napa getaway tomorrow? I’ve been reading your wrap-up posts and can’t think of a group of moms more deserving.”

The wrap-up posts she was referring to were the 200-word personal reflection essays, due by tonight at midnight, that summarized what we’d learned from the bootcamp. I hadn’t submitted mine yet.

“Don’t forget to send yours in by tonight. No matter what happens on Friday, you’re all winners in my book,” Emily said, her hand dramatically placed over her heart.

Winners, right, I thought, bouncing a squirmy Aubrey on my lap. I tried to focus on the call but couldn’t stop thinking about the La Lait meeting in an hour.

What were they going to say? I pictured myself standing in the middle of the room being squirted aggressively with milk from all directions, straight from the nipples of the moms I’d offended. “Please, stop. I’m sorry!” I’d yell, trying to shield Aubrey from the sprays of milky anger.

Emily’s voice cut through my nightmare. “This week, I want you to reflect on everything you’ve learned because you’ll be sharing a few words live on my show. I can’t wait to see all of you on Wednesday night. My personal chef will be preparing all of our meals, and for Thursday I’ve also booked you head-to-toe makeovers!”

Everyone oohed giddily and clapped their hands. I managed a halfhearted smile. A month ago, the thought of a few days away, a haircut and a soak in a hot tub would have left me dizzy with glee, but between our impending move and the inevitable loss of my only friends, I couldn’t get excited.

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