Wash, dry, fold. Wash, dry, fold. Shop, cook, clean. Shop, cook, clean. Put toys away, vacuum, dust. Put toys away, vacuum, dust. It’s this monotony of motherhood that drives most to the brink of… well; you fill in the blank because to some, the endless repetition of parenthood is not as hard to swallow as it is for others.
I tend to place myself in the latter group, namely because I waited so late in life to get married and start a family. By the time I gave birth to my daughter I was well aware of what I was signing up for. Which is not to say it doesn’t kick my butt every.single.day. but again, I knew what I was getting into (for the most part), so technically I don’t have the right to complain.
Still, I get where some parents are coming from when they kvetch about lack of time and patience when it comes to child rearing while juggling life as a fully functioning adult in or out of corporate America.
We all have so much to do, but our multi-tasking skills are abysmal, so we’re left with focusing on the failures instead of recognizing the progress.
Progress. Dear, sweet, invisible progress.
When you are a parent so much of what you do on a daily basis seems repetitive, endless, and relentless. You pick up the toys and vacuum gross bits of goodness-knows-what from the floor just so you can do it all over again tomorrow. Same goes for the dishes and the bathroom and the laundry… and the laundry… and the laundry… and the laundry.
Let’s take a moment and discuss laundry, shall we? After all, no blog about repetition is complete without mentioning the deep, dark (and white) abyss of laundry.
My family is not nearly the size of the Duggars, heck, we’re not even in the same league as the Gosselins, but oh my, the laundry. How can there be so much laundry?
Granted, I don’t expect everyone to wear the same pair of underwear every day. I don’t even mind that my daughter refuses to recycle her bath towel every night, but even with a few extra towels and a handful of unmentionables, I should not be doing (or on most days, not finding the time to do) multiple loads of laundry in a 24-hour period. But, I am.
So, yeah, failure.
Fortunately, I don’t let it get me down. I make like Nike; just do it… then blog about it.
Feeding into negative energy isn’t healthy for me… or anyone. So, the next time you feel as though you are cracking under the weight of mommy monotony, take a deep breath, count to ten and ditch the laundry for a chance to play with your kid. Goodness knows the dirty clothes will be around a lot longer than a child who’s actually interested in associating with you.