please don't make me do the dishes
I am on strike from housework. At least for the next 15 or 20 minutes or however long the kids last in the bathtub while I enjoy a beer. Normally I don't mind the cooking and cleaning so much. It's become routine, and I'm used to it by now. It's that it never ever ever ends, and I do nearly all of it myself. Add to that two extra tired and cranky kids (because they get up too early and don't nap), and you get one Susan who has reached. her. limit.
Much as it pains me, I can do nothing to clean up the horrific oil spill in the Gulf (other than renew my resolve to drive less and bike more) or secure peace in the Middle East or reverse global warming (except for the thing about driving less) but by golly I have the power to take care of my house and kids. Except that every time I clean the kitchen, it takes about five minutes to belch up a pile of newly dirtied dishes and compost rotting in its bowl waiting to be taken outside. And every time we pick up the toy clutter, more are brought out. And every time I vacuum the rugs, someone tracks in a bunch of dirt. And there is no end to the laundry with kids who often go through 2-3 changes of clothes a day, especially now that it's summer with the sweat and mud and all. And no matter how I try to play with the kids and ignore that other stuff to pay better attention to them, they still wear me and each other down and end the day whiny and weepy and obstinate because that's just how kids are. At the end of day when I finally have everything done (or not), I barely have time to watch an old episode of Star Trek with Stuart before I collapse into bed and wait for the next morning's early rising.
Don't get me wrong. There is a lot of joy in my life, and I have a lot to be grateful for. I only have to think of a handful of certain friends of mine who have it so very much harder than I do to feel guilty about complaining at all. This post must seem so inexcusably petty and I'm sorry for that.
It's just that everyone needs a little break now and then. Even me. So please don't make me do the dishes, not tonight.
ETA: Stu did the dishes while I was helping get the kids to sleep, and he hadn't even read this post. So yay, Stu!
Much as it pains me, I can do nothing to clean up the horrific oil spill in the Gulf (other than renew my resolve to drive less and bike more) or secure peace in the Middle East or reverse global warming (except for the thing about driving less) but by golly I have the power to take care of my house and kids. Except that every time I clean the kitchen, it takes about five minutes to belch up a pile of newly dirtied dishes and compost rotting in its bowl waiting to be taken outside. And every time we pick up the toy clutter, more are brought out. And every time I vacuum the rugs, someone tracks in a bunch of dirt. And there is no end to the laundry with kids who often go through 2-3 changes of clothes a day, especially now that it's summer with the sweat and mud and all. And no matter how I try to play with the kids and ignore that other stuff to pay better attention to them, they still wear me and each other down and end the day whiny and weepy and obstinate because that's just how kids are. At the end of day when I finally have everything done (or not), I barely have time to watch an old episode of Star Trek with Stuart before I collapse into bed and wait for the next morning's early rising.
Don't get me wrong. There is a lot of joy in my life, and I have a lot to be grateful for. I only have to think of a handful of certain friends of mine who have it so very much harder than I do to feel guilty about complaining at all. This post must seem so inexcusably petty and I'm sorry for that.
It's just that everyone needs a little break now and then. Even me. So please don't make me do the dishes, not tonight.
ETA: Stu did the dishes while I was helping get the kids to sleep, and he hadn't even read this post. So yay, Stu!
Comments
Glad Stu did the dishes for you. Yay, Stu, indeed!