How I Spent My Dollar, Part 1; by Irene Tibbetts; 1925

I am going to tell you about a dollar I spent.

It is very seldom I go to the city to trade, so when I do I always have a list of things I must have and a list I would like to have if I have enough money left. The last time I was in trading I had bought all my necessary things and was wondering what I would like best to get for Mother as it was near her birthday. A little girl and boy came into the department store and were looking around when I heard the little girl ask the clerk the price of a book. It was $1.98 and the children had only a dollar. So I asked them why they wished that book in particular and the boy said that they had seen their mother look at it the day before when she was in there and it was her birthday that day so they thought it would be nice to give it to her.

I gave them my dollar to pay for the book. I hope their mother is pleased, as my mother had to do with a box of handkerchiefs. Let’s hope she was pleased enough to make up for the way I felt not being able to give my mother more! I’ve often wondered since, was it foolish of me or not?

 

Don’t Save Your Pretty Things For Wife #2; 1937

 

Whenever I am tempted to put pretty things away and not use them I think of a neighbor I had. She was fine to visit with over the garden fence or in my home, but it was no joy to go into her home. It was beautiful–but the polished floors were covered first with new rugs and then with old rugs and where there wasn’t any “rug” there were heavy papers, so you couldn’t possibly mark the floor. The chairs were all covered so they wouldn’t get dusty or scratched. She never used her best dishes for fear they would get nicked or broken. Her beautiful linens were laid away, so they wouldn’t wear out. Children were not welcome in the house, as they might leave a mark or fingerprint on something.

One day Mary died of heart failure.

Within a year Joe was married again. All the old rugs and coverings disappeared, the costly china is used everyday and on wash days the most beautiful linens hang on the line. Four  healthy, sturdy boys have come to bless the home.

As we see them learning to swim, having water fights or sailing boats in the bathtub, sliding down the banisters or playing train with the furniture, we wonder, “What would Mary say if she could see all this?”

We are thoroughly convinced that we, ourselves, shall use and enjoy all our pretty things and not save them for wife number two.

 

 

Are Wives Loyal? 1937 & 1938

Letter 1–

It seems I am never with some of my married friends–girls my own age as well as those of the older generation–but they are complaining about their husbands, or criticizing them, one way or another.

Perhaps you would not call that a lack of loyalty, but I feel that it is.

I have been with these same husbands a lot, and have been more or less in their confidence. It is seldom, if ever, that they say one word in criticism of their wives. Is it because the wives are so nearly perfect in their husband’s eyes? Or do they, perhaps, see our faults, but are loyal enough to say nothing about them, even to close friends?

After all, we marry of our own volition, and surely should not expect our husbands to be faultless, when we ourselves are not.

Letter 2–

The other day I overheard two women talking about their husbands. Each seemed to be trying to make hers out the worse–nothing especially bad, just ordinary “meannesses” and I could not help but wonder what they would think and feel if their husbands “visited” the same way.

Why isn’t it just as easy to say, “John likes me to have meals on time,” as it is to say, “John is always so cross and unreasonable if I am behind with the meals”? Both statements can be true but how differently they sound when saying them to a group of other women!

One evening I knew my husband would be away late on business so I started the chores and was milking when a neighbor came in. She watched me for awhile and then said, “I wouldn’t milk any man’s cows. He could do it himself if he was late.”

“Well,” I replied, “I’m not milking ‘any’ man’s cows, I’m milking our cows.”

There wasn’t any answer.

 

Balancing Our Lives–Two Perspectives; April & July 1938

The following letters appeared in The Farmer’s Wife magazine and illustrate the age-long struggle women face in achieving a balanced life. Although I cannot say that I completely agree with either woman, I do lean more toward one of their positions. What do you think?

Dear Editor:

After looking around at some of my friends who are in a rut, I have resolved not to allow myself to become one of them.

I will not stay home day after day doing the same old things,–washing, ironing, cleaning, baking, and endless other chores; I will not spend all of my evenings mending. I will see that all these things are done for my husband and two small children, but they shall not take up all of my time, for my family’s sake as well as my own; everyone likes a happy, contented wife and mother better than a cranky and bedraggled one. One day a week I will take my children, aged 3 and 1 ½ years, to town, look around in the stores, perhaps have our lunch at a restaurant, and then call on some of my friends. A visit will do us good.

One evening during the week, I will go to the movies–with my husband if we can find someone to stay with the children; alone, if we cannot, and my husband will stay with them. (He will be free to go out alone for recreation any other night he chooses.)

In this way I’m sure I’ll have more pep about my work, get it done faster, and really enjoy doing it. My family will enjoy my company more for my having a better disposition and we’ll all be happier.–Mrs. S. from  New York.

Dear Editor:

I think the letter of Mrs. S. of New York, in the April issue is one of the silliest  you ever published.

It surely would be a jolly trip, taking a three-year-old and an eighteen months old baby to town to “look around in the stores, have lunch at a restaurant and call on friends!” I suppose the children will sit at a table and eat restaurant food?

Just when will these grown-up children have their naps? At the home of some “friend” no doubt. I am sure the friend will be delighted to have a woman with two tired, fussy children descend upon her for the afternoon. What does it matter if they wet her best bedspread? Or is she supposed to furnish baby beds with rubber sheets?

I think it is a crime for people to drag small children through stores. The child is way below the level of counters, and what can he see that interests him?

I should like to see that procession crossing the street when the light changes and cars are making right and left turns. I don’t feel safe when negotiating a crossing with my purse in one hand and my three-year-old child holding the other.

If such trips make you “happy and contented” my dear Mrs. S. I thank heaven for the discontented and unhappy mothers who stay home and take a nap when the baby does! Mrs. Y.  from Ohio