A Personal History Of Chores
When I first came into the world,
my needs were met by others
and when they weren’t,
I simply screamed.
Sadly,
I had no appreciation
of my privileged status.
Soon enough,
I was forced from this position
of entitlement and egocentricity.
Whether it be
toys or spills or temper outbursts,
I was expected
in an increasingly meaningful way
to clean up my own messes.
A little older and I was mandated
to contribute to the tribe,
the running of the household.
We awoke every Saturday morning
to a job list adhered to the refrigerator door.
Girl jobs-vacuuming and laundry and bathrooms,
and boy jobs- anything outdoors.
This went on until I left home.
In college,
I was free to generally ignore chores.
When I ran out of clothes, I took them the laundromat.
I bought a minimum of groceries.
I don’t remember ever cleaning anything.
The yoke of chores descended
in a new and unanticipated way
when we married and bought a home.
Suddenly, we were responsible for everything.
For the first time,
the state of the house
was a reflection on me.
Division of labor became an issue.
That yoke threatened to strangle me
once kids came along.
Cooking and laundry became a lifestyle,
cleaning, an ongoing exercise
in futility.
Ironically,
I had to teach my kids
to clean up their own messes,
to contribute to the tribe.
Job lists went on the refrigerator.
They grumbled and lollygagged.
Almost always, it would have been easier
to do the work myself.
To my surprise,
once the kids were grown,
housework became something else entirely.
I could get things done more quickly
without constant interruption.
Clean stayed clean long enough
to enjoy a sense of accomplishment.
Today,
cleaning means order from chaos.
Decluttering satisfies and simplifies.
I take some pleasure in making this space
that contains my memories and dreams
peaceful, whole
and holy.
By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith
Hi. When I post on Facebook, I sometimes add a little introduction so I am going to do that here in the comments. This week, I thought, should I post a poem that will address the tension of the week or a total diversion? I chose diversion. Sometimes, you just need a break. I think that most of us could write volumes on the topic. of chores. This poem started out a lot longer but then I pared it down. I thought it might be interesting for you to think or write about your own history of chores. Anyway, I hope you enjoy a little diversion and that you have a peaceful week ahead!
This was perfect. I have to admit that what made my career was the organization I learned at my (and your) mother’s feet. I love this poem so much. Thank you.
Thank you, Missey. I agree. I had three kids and often felt like I was way in over my head. I don’t know how our mothers did it with so many kids. Extreme management and organizational skills.
Thanks Maria. Very nice.
Thank you, Susan. Thanks for always reading!
As I anticipate a home day (we churched last night), this poem speaks to me. I live with an organized man and we enjoy creating a home of not too much and a place for what there is. Your words inspire me to empty a closet or neaten a shelf. Thank you.
Ah! I aspire to that. I love an organized, “not too much” kind of space. It makes me feel like I can breathe.
I find such pure enjoyment and thought provoking feelings from your sharing.
I am so glad to hear that! Those are the feelings I get from writing, too! Thank you for letting me know this.
So glad you chose diversion!
Thanks for helping ground me this morning,
my brain is so tired. I need a break from it.
Now I just want to mindfully clean the house and get my breath back.
Thanks Maria. Love you.
Yes. Just keep breathing. Cleaning gives us a sense of control over something when everything else seems out of control.
In my busy workday world a day of homework is very fulfilling.
Thanks Maria
It is kind of therapeutic, isn’t it?