I used to be a mum on the edge. I was at home with two young children and had a husband who was never around. I was lonely and scared; scared of turning into the sort of woman I always dreaded becoming — a frumpy housewife.

Because, let’s be honest here, stay-at-home mothers don’t get much respect. I mean, you have got to be a moron to leave a high-paying career to go home and clean spit off the sofa, right? I have heard this argument plenty of times. I even used to believe it myself. There was a time when I had a big office and a big job with a big pay cheque. Then, aged 31, when my career was really taking off, I got pregnant. I was faced with the same choice as so many other women: could I leave my baby with someone else, while I went back to work? It was a choice between him and my career. I chose him.

Motherhood was harder than I thought, and I spent most of my time complaining. When my second child came along, I was already disconnected from my home and my kids. I would get some 22-year-old to play with my daughter so I could take a nap. I became so lazy that if I spilt something, I would leave it for the cleaner. Deep down, I felt I was too good to be a housewife. When I finally admitted this to my mother, she told me that my friends and I didn’t know how lucky we were. I didn’t want to listen. But later, while watching an episode of Desperate Housewives, her words started to sink in. The women on Wisteria Lane have no reason to be desperate. Their children are healthy. They have food on the table and money to spend on designer clothes. They have expensive cars, cleaners, landscape gardeners. They have the luxury of being at home with their children, and men who want to curl up next to them at the end of the day. My mother was right: my generation are a bunch of self-absorbed brats who need a reality check.

I decided to do something about it. I would become the best wife, mother and homemaker I could be. I started cleaning: vacuuming, scrubbing toilets, mopping. I started cooking. I organised my house. I started playing with my children. I read everything I could find about homemaking, from raising brilliant children to spicing up your sex life. And you know what? I started to enjoy it.

I know there are women who think housewives are just uninformed, daytime-TV-watching hags. Well, I have something to tell them: working is a piece of cake compared with being a stay-at-home mum. I’m sick of people asking: “Are you an at-home mum or do you work?” I answer: “I work very hard. I am a mum.” It is time for a new women’s movement, so I call on mothers everywhere to fight the image the desperate housewives are giving us. We’re not desperate. We’re educated. We hold the spending power in our families. Happy housewives are the ones raising the future — isn’t that worthy of respect?

Women of my age (about 40) have tried to do what the feminists said, but we’ve learnt that we cannot have it all, at least not at the same time. The ultra-feminists don’t want to hear this. They’d say I’m setting women back by 50 years. But I believe I am empowering them, allowing them to feel good about their choices. Look at me. I’m at home with the kids. I have a great marriage. My house is clean and organised. I am thin and look good. I have lots of friends and make time for them. I play tennis, go shopping, vacuum and do laundry. Yes, I gave up my career. But what did I lose? The long hours, not being there for my children, missing my daughter’s recital? Some loss. I know many women can’t afford to stay at home full-time, but to those who can, I say: you had these kids, go home and raise them.

What do you need to be a happy housewife? Respect, pride, confidence, passion, friendship and a close relationship with your children, for a start. I also suggest some pretty radical things, like not expecting your husband to clean. I can hear the screaming now. This isn’t a licence for your husband to become a slob; it will never be acceptable for him to leave his underwear on the floor. But if you wait for him to start mopping the floor when he comes in from work, you will really become desperate. It’s your job, so just do it.

Once you start bonding with your home, spending time with your kids, enjoying the pleasures of a healthy marriage and paying attention to your needs as well, your life transforms. You can almost have it all. Yes, something has to go — for me, it was my career. But I found a way to keep my brain going — I wrote a book while the kids were napping.

So watch out — the Happy Housewives are coming. We’re going to show the world that we can be good mothers, look good, have great sex lives, be interesting and creative, and find ways to make money without leaving our families for 12 hours a day. It’s about time someone had the guts to say that one, eh?

Happy Housewives by Darla Shine (Regan Books £14.99) is published on Thursday

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