Corporate wifery...

I am a corporate wife. You may not have known this about me. My husband actually works for the same whopper multi-national, household-name company as I do, but he has a proper, important, bring-home-the-bacon, full time job (whereas my job is part time and some would say less proper). Over the years I have decided that there is an art of corporate wifery. It requires specific skills...

1. Having an endless understanding of the working hard/working late phenomenon...in effect it is the same as just working. There is only one kind of working for my husband and sadly that's hard and generally late...

2. There is always the promise and the possibility of 'the next role' when climbing the corporate ladder - that could be a good role or it could be a not-so-good role. A role in another country (eek), a role where he could be home even less (is that possible?).

3. Getting a new boss is a big deal...do we like the new boss? This can take months to establish and requires very careful and subtle wifely questioning to get to the bottom of.

4. The laptop/blackberry combo accompanies us everywhere, everyday, anytime, day and night.

5. If there is ever an occasion to meet said boss/colleagues - absolute charm, style and elegance is required (no pressure then!) in an unassuming but not forgettable, non-predatory manner...

There are definite perks - for example, all expense paid trips to Hawaii (twice, loved it, paradise on earth), and living the life we lead. Farmhouses don't come for free.


I'm the modern 1950s housewife...except ummmm, I work and our house does not look like this ;-)


Sometimes I wonder - what would it have been like if I had married a milkman instead? (Nothing atall against milkmen by the way...). But then I think...nah, he rocks my world, so if he has to do the corporate thing, so be it. I will be there behind him every step of the way.

Whilst on men in suits...here is some Mad Men styling...

I do sometimes feel abit like Betty Draper (without the neurotic tendencies)...

Patrick Dempsey in Versace...yum

George Clooney looking slightly ruffled...hard day at work darling?

Mr Big? Quintessential man in suit...


Daniel Craig...sharp as a tack...

Milk anyone?

The first day is always the hardest...

Hmmm, so in the world of family life, weekends are 'family time'. Its the unwritten, unspoken rule. This all works fine for me so long as all members of the family are around, then you have a full quota. But as my husband is off tomorrow on a corporate jaunt for a week, I am on my own with the kids all weekend. During the working week this is less of a challenge (and frankly should I view it as a challenge? My kids are older now, easier, actually great fun to be around...). But weekends with no Daddy, when Daddy is normally around, are tough. I have made plans, I have called in the support network. My lovely friend P, who flies in the face of unwritten, unspoken rules has invited me round twice to punctuate the weekend. When there is a black hole of time looming, she fills it. She has three boys - they will wear my kids out. Tick. My sister in law N, who I love, is coming for a pyjama party Saturday night, trashy DVD, yummy dinner. Tick. This is all good. So really I have no excuse to be feeling down in the mouth as I will be fine; we will be fine.

It just feels like an awfully long time til he comes back...but then I figure, come on, get a grip, don't be a weed, think of wives whose husbands are in the Forces who go off for months on end...

I can eat healthy food-for-one all week. No man-meal meat and two veg needed. I can watch chick's TV to my heart's content (SATC anyone?). I can sleep star-shaped. No shirts to wash.

But still, I'll be counting down the minutes til he gets back...and we get back to our full quota...