I hate housework. With a passion. I always have.
There is always something else I’d rather be doing, something more important and meaningful. Anything! Like writing, going out for lunch, spending quality time with my family, living life.
Cleaning the house together, as a family, is not quality time in my books.
I sometimes think, usually as I’m vacuuming or scrubbing the toilet, that if the world ended today I’d like to have spent my last hours doing some truly important things, not cleaning the house or doing laundry or dishes.
But this rebellious line of thinking is ridiculous because I hate having a dirty house. And it’s not going to clean itself! I hate it so much. During the Easter school holidays E and I went to London for a few days, a welcome break. However when I came back to a messy house it made me miserable.
Cleaning with J around is always a challenge. As soon as I tidy he pulls everything out. I try to clean the patio doors, he tries to help but merely smears his sticky hands all over the area I have cleaned.
Talking of sticky fingers, how come children’s hands always feel clammy and sticky?
I usually clean the house during the week, leaving the weekends for family time. I complain and grunt and groan and mope about it when it is messy. But now, after cleaning it every day for a week I feel happier and we can have family time.
I remember being about ten years old, sitting on a step outside our house cleaning my shoes. It was one of the jobs we were given to do. I hated that chore so much and even now I detest cleaning shoes. Maybe because there was always something else I would rather be doing.
I still have the same feeling about many house hold chores, they have to be done but there is always something better to do.
I heard my daughter mumble the other day when I asked her to tidy her room. Which means, I guess, that we’re doing something right. She will grow up knowing how to do important things like ironing and cleaning, and she will have a sense of responsibility and an understanding of the importance of contributing to the running of the household. And as a bonus, she will make some one very happy one day because she won’t live in mess and filth. Or maybe she will, in rebellion, but I won’t have to live with her at that point.
Sometimes you have to do the things you hate to do. I know she is only little and she normally loves helping out. However this is life. She might as well learn that now.
Sometimes, you have to clean the house, do the chores and help out.
But as long as you have a family that suffers through it with you it doesn’t seem as bad.
And when the chores are finished – and they’ll be finished faster if we all work together – we can go out and play, have some fun family time. Which I think is important and what life is all about.