This week has been a long one, dear readers. Between the mania of preparing for #1's first communion, and Little Man's school being closed for vacation, I was already behind the eight ball. Then my sitter, S, canceled for Thursday, which she has never done before, so I will forgive her for ditching me on one of the last child-free days I have before the big day next Saturday, since her sister is visiting from Mexico. Besides being unable to shop for the plethora of paper goods I need, and ordering a cake markedly lacking in a frosting cross or that reads "God Bless #1", I was left with an entire week's worth of laundry to fold. Two days later and I am still not done. This made me wonder, why the hell is this my job anyway?
Being a stay at home mom, almost everything that needs to be cooked, cleaned, folded or organized falls squarely under my jurisdiction*. But why should this be the case? My "job" is to take care of the kids and deal with everything related to that care. That list includes:
*Bathing and dressing the kids - sometimes more than once a day in Little Man's case
*Preparing their healthy, balanced meals and snacks - which occurs about every ninety minutes as my children have the eating habits of Hobbits.
*Reading to them at least 20 min a day (according to PBS)
*Shuttling them to and from school
*Planning playdates and registering them for sports, then driving them to said recreation (never mind being the leader of the activity as in the case of Girl Scouts)
*Doing developmentally appropriate crafts that then require me to clean the entire kitchen
*Homework
*Dental and doctor appointments, as well as tending to sick children
*Attending birthday parties - after schlepping to the educational toy store to buy the gift, then the stationery store to buy the wrapping, and wrapping gift using painter's tape and child scissors
*Trying to fight the tide of toys, books and craft supplies that threaten to escape the confines of the basement and family room closet an take over the entire house
*Taking care of the endless minutiae that eats up my day such as making sure they learn their manners, drink their milk and make their beds so they grow up to be healthy, responsible citizens.
I read this list, trying to avoid the mountain of laundry in my peripheral vision, and, at least to me, it looks like me plate is pretty full. So if this is my job and H's is in the office, why am I still the one doing the grocery shopping, laundry and house cleaning? Well, let's be honest, S is doing all the laundry, and that is a big load off my back, but back when she wasn't you all remember my endless bitching about folding tiny clothes and socks.
I think like many couples, H and I fell into this arrangement. It was quite easy in the early days of being a SAHM. When I only had #1, what was I doing all day? I hadn't made many mom friends yet, and she was too little for playdates, so it was comforting to fill my days with cleaning and grocery shopping, and I have said before, in retrospect, hauling one, non-mobile kid around is like having an extra-heavy purse. But as the number of offspring increased, and the real-world work associated with raising them has increased as they have grown, and do real, important things like take spelling tests, the chore balance has not really shifted.
Adding to this slippery slope of housework, is the generations-old expectation that the mother manage all the household tasks. But times, and what is considered "good parenting" have changed, requiring more time, effort and energy from the primary caregiver. Sure, it was easy to iron your husband's shirts and make a cake from scratch when the pinnacle of good mothering was not blowing smoke directly in your kid's face, as you stuck him in the play pen for hours in front of the nightmare-inducing Howdy Doody. And if I had the milk man saving me the effort of lugging the three gallons of milk a week my family needs in and out of a grocery cart, my shopping trips would be considerably shorter. (Don't even get me started on errands. My aunts tell me how mothers used to leave their babies in prams with the doorman outside of Bamberger's so they could shop in peace.)
To be fair, H works his ass off at work, and I do have help, but for those who don't this division of labor doesn't really seem fair. And while there are exceptions, the majority of my friends all have the same arrangement. I don't know what the answer is. Yes, a lot of this is of our own making, as we, myself included, have allowed parenting to become an all-encompassing, stress-inducing, activity, instead of letting kids fend a little more for themselves and it eats up the majority of our time. If we were able to let them wander our neighborhoods without fear and could tell them to "go outside and play" without feeling guilty, perhaps we'd have time to cook and fold the laundry without losing our minds. And, damn, it sure would be awesome to have, and not feel guilty about using, that playpen.
*And spare me your bitching about yard work, dear, male readers. If laundry and groceries guaranteed me two hours of alone time outside, I'd GLADLY do it. And H would know nothing about this with the landscaper and all...
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