Where’s MY Alice?

As a kid growing up in the late 70s and early 80s, I watched a *little* TV.  Ok, more like quite a bit, since I was home after school on my own for a couple hours.  I got to know quite a few families:  the Drummonds, Mork and Mindy, the girls from The Facts of Life, the Cleavers, and of course, the Bradys.

The Brady Bunch was a show that spoke to me of what a family should be like.  They were equally matched in age and gender (very convenient), they were super supportive of each other, and they did fun stuff together.  I was an only child of divorced parents and I thought this would be “the life”:  sharing a bedroom with my sisters, fighting over the bathroom with my brothers (brothers!), having the occasional sudsy dog run through the house, and living in a beautiful big (impeccably neat) house.  And they were always clean!  Six kids, always clean.  Remember how hard they had to try to get dirty for that commercial they were making?

I loved the way Mrs. Brady (out of respect, I still can’t call her Carol) was so put together and always had everything under control.  Of course, she did have Alice.   Alice was the perfect mother’s helper; remember how she and Mrs. Brady would pack the lunches together in the morning and send the kids off to school?  They worked alongside each other to keep that home running smoothly.  I thought everyone needed an Alice.

Guess what?  Now, as a working mother of 4, I still think everyone (ok, at least I) needs an Alice.  I know of few moms (and dads) who would turn down an offer for an Alice.

Picture Mrs. Brady.  Her hair and makeup is done, her dress is neat and stain-free.  Heck, she’s smiling!  I mean, do I *ever* look like this when my hubby comes home?  She’s smiling because she’s happy to see her husband at the end of the day, and my guess is that it’s not so she can run off to Target for an “errand” as an excuse to turn the kids over to him for an hour.  She’s not exhausted, in sweats, with remnants of dinner clinging to her stretched out old t-shirt.  She has Alice.

My grandiose dream is that if I had an Alice, I, too, would be able to glide from task to task effortlessly, never ruffled.  My home would always be company-ready, with homemade goodies for whoever happened to stop by.  I wouldn’t be doing the Frantic Fifteen before a friend came over.  My kids would have clean, folded laundry IN THEIR DRESSERS AND CLOSETS and not have to look on the coffee table for an outfit.  I would have energy to have a meaningful conversation *wink, wink* with my husband in the evenings.  Everything would be perfect.  PERFECT, I tell you.

So, anybody have a spare Alice laying around?