Laundry, etc.

I had some deep thoughts today. I've been analyzing myself. Am I swell, or not so swell? What are my credentials? When I hear other mothers talk about household duties, or table settings, or great meals, or preparing family lessons a month ahead of time, I just think "that's not me". It's my auto-copout.

I do laundry. I knock it out, throw it in their drawers, call it good. I hang up our shirts within a day or two of washing. I cook, sort of. I bake on a whim. I rarely plan. Do I really try? Do I give it everything? Do I put my full effort into these responsibilities that are mine and only mine? Let's face it, no one else on this earth will do them for me. It's up to me. For the next twenty or so years.

I think I've been afraid for a long time of being just a "wife and mother". I try to add all these other things to my life, things that make me feel like I'm still dabbling in the outside world. Little side-jobs that distract me from the back-breaking task it sometimes is to take care of a home and family. Family mottos are great, so are chore charts and budgeting wisely and planning weekly meals. But I've ignored my need for them because they feel so mundane and unrewarding. "Let the children be, let me conjure up something hot and edible at 6p.m., no sooner. Let other mothers sweat and plan and be occupied with the every day."

I feel like I just do daily damage control. Oh, Grace got mad at Ruby again, let's deal with it the quickest and quietest way possible so I can go on with whatever I'm doing... But maybe I should plan ahead? When Grace does this, I will do this. Be more consistent. I know, I know, I sound like an idiot. Like, really, how basic can one get? But I've created these children. I've created this world for myself on my own accord and I need to be more present.

I need to change. I am not happy with how I'm doing as a housewife (who else hates that word?) compared to my potential. I am talking specifically about the duties of a home. Running a household. Mothering (with patience) is hard, too, but in order to feel good I think I need to organize my home. Not just physically organize, but in every aspect. Plan ahead, think ahead, not shiver at the concept of planning meals a week or even a month ahead of time. I need to take control. I'm not talking perfection here, just a constant vigil on what I could be doing better.

[And the feminist in me shakes her fist...]

This is what I'm doing right now. Taking care of my kids and my home. This is what I'm responsible for. Why not be better at it, lower my eyes and brace myself? Besides, my own mother did more than give me the tools! Why not stretch myself to actually put on that heavy weight and run the place? It's something that I've put off long enough. If it's bound to take up my time, I better be darn good at it.

Trash Day.

I always get a little excited on trash day. Getting rid of stuff excites me in general, so trash day is just a little joy I get once a week when They come and take away all my meticulously collected recycled items and not so meticulously collected trash. Phew, I think, a little lighter today.

My sentimental mind also dwells a little too long on how fast time is going, especially on trash day. How fast Wednesdays come and go. I swear, I just did this, yet another week has trudged by, and where was I? Looking out the kitchen window in a stupor? Was my head buried in my pillow (surely not)? And now everyone in my life is a week older. And all those mundane tasks like trash day will blend together, meaningless, as I may just as well be 60 years old with how fast this is all going.

Makes me question the things that take up my time. And who tells me they need to? How I want to change my schedule of importance. I think I'll change a little today. Let the laundry wait. Call my mother and my grandmother. Braid Ruby's hair and just stare at Lillie while she talks complete nonsense. It's all so fleeting.

Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaank you for the names! You have helped me immensely.