I was recently sifting through my old post drafts and found this one from August 2014:
This work must be done. You may as well accept it.
Don’t think of this of this like “I clean because I’m a homemaker, and this is just what I have to do.” Think of it like you are simply nurturing yourself and your life, the things that surround you and give your life meaning. You are caring for them. That is not demeaning work.
Reject the idea that cleaning is beneath you. Savor the feel of things beneath your hands: the wood of a cabinet door, the varying textures of a toddler’s shoe. Relish in the work of your hands. Be grateful and present in the moment. Try to find a way to enjoy it.
Relax into the peace of a quiet, clean house. Listen to the silence. Breathe it in. Savor the fleeting moment.
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I have to be honest here. I’m not doing well at this homemaker thing. In fact, I’m pretty terrible at it. My house isn’t clean, I’ve got a chronic case of unfolded laundry at the foot of my bed, the sink has dirty dishes in it now, and I’m the queen of dinner procrastination.
I just feel so overwhelmed. Homemaking is hard, and it’s mostly boring, monotonous work. I’m by myself all day. And no matter how clean I get the house, it seems like the next day I’m back at square one.
I feel so ill-prepared for this job, and it shows. CEO of the “family business” is way more involved than I predicted. I didn’t take any classes in high school or college that prepared me with the skills I would need for the profession.
I’m sorry, Kenny. I know you expected a better wife and homemaker, and I know I’ve disappointed you. Please forgive me.
I’d like to meet a woman who is really good at homemaking. I know nothing’s perfect, and that’s okay. But if I could meet someone who has her home organized and under control on a regular basis, I would love to meet her and learn from her. Is there a homemaking class anyone recommends?
Seriously, I need some help.
Wow. Things have changed. About three months after I wrote that, Kenny and I separated, and my life began to change dramatically. It was tough (and that’s putting it lightly) but I made it. Here I am almost three years later, happier in many ways, still struggling in others. I have made peace with my homemaking ineptitude. I still hate laundry and dishes, and I rarely cook anymore. I’m ok with that.
It’s interesting to read my thoughts from almost three years ago. I had no idea what was coming when I wrote that, but with hindsight, I can see that the edges were already beginning to fray. I was struggling mightily with what I thought was my role in life. I was lonely, isolated- bored. It was also during this time that I was questioning everything I thought I knew about religion and the state of the universe and humanity- reading, thinking, re-evaluating.
And Kenny and I were fighting. Often. Daily. There was a brick wall between us growing taller every day, brick by brick. I was leaving the lifestyle and religion that he loved, and he clung more fiercely to it even as I felt myself being inexorably torn away. Our break was inevitable; I can see that clearly now.
There are days I question our choice. I think that’s normal. But I believe things ultimately happened the way they were supposed to. Kenny and I were never meant to last, but I’m grateful for the time we had and the child we created together. Elijah is the love of my life. How can I regret anything that brought him to me?
Most days, though, I’m focused on the future. I have hope that the future will be better than the present, just as the present is better than the past. Change is an inevitable part of life. We grow, learn, adjust, and evolve. My hope is that it will always be for the better, and that on days we happen across fragments of our past, we can smile at just how far we’ve come.
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