It's true. Not the lazy part; rather, the accusation. And it sent me into a spiral of depression for a few hours, at least. Enough to make me clean off the shelving in my kitchen that has been the place for things to go to die for way too long. Like many others I know, I usually do the bi-weekly mad clean-up around the house on the night before she comes, so that things are in their due place, and the condo is "easier" for her to navigate and to clean (i.e. no Playmobil figures, drawing papers, legos, and stacks of "relatively clean" cloths strewn around). My husband laughs at me every time, but on the days I don't go through this exercise, I often get the "tsssk, tsssk" from the woman who has cleaned my house every other week for the last 15+ years. As we've grown from a family of two to a family of five, this process has gotten much more drawn out, as I scan the carpets for every little lego piece I don't want swept up in the vacuum. I can't tell you why her disparaging of me hits so hard; okay, maybe I can, and here's a few reasons why:
- I feel guilty that I have a house cleaner at all, when I stay at home with my kids and could, certainly, find a stretch of time to do this myself.
- Her accusations come with the follow-up of her experience raising children in Poland and doing everything herself, living in a small space (or smaller) like mine.
- And ultimately, since I DO have a house cleaner coming in every two weeks, why can't I keep up with the clutter? What's my excuse?
I must admit that I have never been great at keeping on top of the clutter or organization. I can recall horrible fights as an adolescent with my mother about my messiness and stubborn defiance of her housekeeping requirements. As I grew older, keeping up a tidy household felt like a feminist fail, as that would mean choosing these menial tasks for the sake of perfection rather than focusing on my career or outside interests. I railed against these expectations, even if imaginary. Once I was married, as long as there was 50/50 partnership with my spouse in the upkeep of the home, then all was fine. In fact, while we were both working, most of the time it worked like a charm, even after the birth of our first son. We had a completely lovely co-parenting, co-partnering way of approaching everything in our home and for our son. Once I became a stay-at-home mom, this balance shifted. I don't say this to say that my husband suddenly became a "where's my dinner, woman" kind of person. No way. But whether we like it our not, the contributions we were both able to give the family changed... dramatically. As our family grew, he was having to move from a more family-centered, work-from-home situation to director roles requiring onsite work, longer hours, much more travel. I became the minivan mom navigating the drop-offs, pick-ups, grocery runs, playdates, extracurricular activities and the parent responsible for more and more of the household tasks: endless loads of laundry, creative dinner planning, an attempt at being the crafty mom. All of which I've done fairly well, but not well enough.
Today I read yet another article bewailing the "I can have it all" mythology that most moms face. Some poignant excerpts:
“I do think, though, that we should cut it out with the fairy tales already. Stop telling women they can have everything without sacrificing anything. Here’s the truth: You want to have a career and kids? You totally can, but both will suffer. You will never feel like you are devoting enough time to either. You will never feel like you are good enough at either. You will never get time off (at least for the first several years). You will always be choosing between things that need your attention, and you will almost never choose yourself. You will be judged for nearly every move you make and you will never measure up to anyone else’s expectations.
If we’re going to embrace a new narrative for women, we need to change some social norms, too. We need to make it truly okay for women to opt out of having kids. We pretend it’s okay today, but if it were, all my child-less friends wouldn’t get asked about it all the damn time and I don’t really think I’d be reading so many essays defending the choice to — gasp! — be a woman and not have children. Seriously. There are so. many. essays.
We need to make it truly okay for women to opt out of working, too. Not sort of okay, but behind your back everyone thinks you’re wasting your potential, so then you feel like you have to parent the shit out of your kids and run yourself ragged taking them to activities and teaching them things. But, like, really okay where you can have your friends over for mimosas in the afternoon and lock those little animals in the backyard for an hour if you feel like it, because Jesus Christ spending all day with a small child is exhausting and infuriating and any sane human would need an hour off.”
I have a stack of carefully curated books on my design-y living room bookstand (this is where all my artsy, Japanese publications, and other lovely little "showcased" books reside), which includes a few titles on DIY or kids craft books. I've hardly broken the spine on these books to my own failure-induced despair. After all, why don't I endeavor to put more time or energy into making my kids' lives more creative or full of wonder. Why is that I find myself constantly battling my sons' peer pressure-laden obsessions with video games and screen time. Instead, I could use that time to distract them with a lovely handmade, origami-crafted Star Wars battleship or hand-sewn Harry Potter robe. Oh let's just face it, I've always been hopeless at origami, and Nalin is the real seamstress of the family. I'm a fairly good cook, but every time I try to branch outside my familiar dishes, they are often met with suspicion and sometimes even hostility (seriously, kiddos, don't hold back).
Every few weeks I give myself that pep talk about making my life and my kids' lives more rich, more responsible, and more full of discovery, which would include (in no particular order):
- More trips to the library
- More visits to museums and other cultural institutions
- More lessons on helping out around the house
- More instruction on living simply and with less stuff
- More focus on creativity instead of materialism (i.e. more crafting and less consuming)
- More reading and less obsession with screens
- More attempts at independence
- More quality time together doing something special, whatever that may be
- More listening to one another
- More time for stories and games
How one comment about my the way I keep my household could send me into a tailspin about my very existence in all matters is a bit ridiculous, but it just goes to show how self-conscience we often are as mothers, fathers, partners, individuals. The expectations feel relentless, especially from within. If there were a perfect approach to being a parent without losing one's individual identity (all while keeping everything perfectly in its place when and where you need it), there would be no need for these types of ruminations. In light of International Woman's Day, I'd love to grab my female friends, my mother, my sister, my daughter, and yes, the long-time friend who cleans my house, and say, "The greatest thing we can do is not bring each other down or one-up one another. After all, life is hard enough as it is." As for the DIY crafting guides and books that extoll a clutter free existence, keep 'em coming. The reality just may not catch up to the ideal anytime soon.