Man Vs Woman
I am all for equal rights to men and women and I believe women should work and need to work. We can do their role, however, I am pretty sure they can not do ours. I have heard it countless times too many. “I can be a stay at home mom and I would be perfect at the job. I even believe the house would run much smoother than when you do it. Why don’t you go to work instead of me.” These are the words of the naive and ignorant men.
Some days I just want to write a list of all the things I did in the house so someone, even if it has to be me, would notice. Sometimes I just want to make special billboards for myself congratulating myself for being the most exceptional mom and housewife. But I don’t. So we remain quiet and we allow the men to keep believing that we do nothing at all.
I love how they honestly believe that they would do a better job. The only person I would never allow to switch roles is my husband. He may be right. Him out of all the men out there may, to my annoyance, can do a better job than me. And that is why I will never let it happen. I would rather work and hire a sitter and not tell him so that he continues working and believing that I am at home being awesome.
You mean to tell me that men would actually sweep behind couches, under beds, and in the corners of the ceiling. Oh right. Why do you have to do things like that. No one is inspecting the corners… Until peoples allergies start acting up from the massive tumbleweeds of dust. Why must you put clothing neatly into piles in the kids drawers? No one is going to come check if things are color coordinated. Oh you just wait till those mornings come and your sons tell you that the red shirt just doesn’t match the tan cargos. And wait till those mornings where you are running so late and the bus is 2 minutes away and you have a half clothed kid in his undies because the pants are no where to be found in the chaos. Oh, and the extra hassle of separating the laundry when it is taken off. You just wait till the loads are up against the ceiling and you don’t even know where to start. And you leave that tiny, little, seemingly harmless black sock in the white load.Now you have grayed whites for the rest of time.
Silly me. Wasting precious time cleaning the chair tops. Why would I? No one sees it.
“Oh, hun. Please pass me the chair.”
“Disgusting why is it all sticky. Gross.”
Yeah that is why. If I don’t notice all the little itty bitty details, you will suffer. Trust me. Next time you take out a pan for me from the upper cabinet, make sure you jump back and count to three. This way all the things that fall out because they were not organized, will not kill you head on. Also, when you decide you are so achy and would love a bath, you can lean back but may slip on the grime and hair that the previously white ceramic accumulated over the past few months. When you drop something under the table- which who cares by the way if you sweep- no one sees it– enjoy getting your hands caught in the cobwebs and old sticky bananas and soggy moldy cereal.
The little things you forget are actually done physically and not magically or electronically. You have underwear every day all nicely stacked in your drawer. You don’t have to fish through hoards of undershirts and socks to find them. The ones with massive holes- wondrously disappear. You have matching socks and they are all paired. Supper is ready and it is food that you actually like. Your bed has clean fresh linen. You have clothing for the next day. Your kids have bread and milk in the morning. You have the coffee you like in the fridge. Your children are bathed and fed.
And all this is done with children pulling at my sides all day. I’m left countless times standing awkwardly in my underwear, if I’m lucky, because they tugged too hard. Holding one on the hip, the other crashing into the furniture and the other destroying that which was just organized. All this with my legs crossed due to no bathroom breaks. All this with no spare time to eat. All this with my grimy hair that I give up washing just to make sure that you have a comfortable life. No social time and “me” time despite all the free time you think we have in the house.
Although t it seems like I have all the time in the world to type, this post took me almost an entire day. I did three loads of laundry, vacuumed, put away the clean dishes, made the beds and served the kids like fifty meals. I got a bathroom moment- with one on the lap and the other peaking through the door. I typed with a child clicking the keyboard and screaming “mama”. And the other two- only G-d knows where they went. But they are clean, matching, and well-fed- so I am not worried anyone who finds them will have them taken away…