Catherine folded laundry in the basement of her perfectly adequate single family home. Her life could be summed up by the pairs of underwear- male and female- she folded: plain, simple, uninspiring.
She turned off the light in the dimly lit laundry room and carried the basket up the steps from the basement to the main floor. Light poured into the family room from the bay window at the front of the house. She looked at her family- husband asleep in the recliner, daughter watching her favorite cartoon, and son playing with his matchbox cars- and smiled. They were the perfect nuclear American family and yet something was missing. As she rounded the corner to go up the next set of stairs to their bedrooms, not a single person looked in her direction. She paused with one foot resting on the bottom step waiting for someone to acknowledge that she had walked through the room, but no one seemed to notice.
"Well then," she mumbled, "I see that no one notices me anymore. I think I will just leave the laundry here in the basket and see how long before they notice that!"
But two weeks passed and no one noticed. No one noticed the other baskets of laundry being dumped on top of the previous ones. As long as the children had socks and underwear and clean clothing to wear, no one noticed that the house was beginning to look like a laundry-mat exploded.
There were other things, too, that frustrated Catherine. The kitchen sink would be full of dishes even though the dishwasher was empty. Groceries were bought and put away and nary a word was mentioned unless a favorite treat was exhausted before being quickly replaced.
Where did I go wrong? she mused. Where did I lose sight of my hopes and dreams for a loving and engaging family life? Where is my Hallmark Family?
Each morning she got up at 5 am to finish cleaning anything that was missed the night before, packed lunches and backpacks, and brewed a pot of coffee. The family slept peacefully for another hour and a half so that they got enough sleep. On days that her husband did not have to go in to work as early, he took the children to the bus stop, but on the rest of the days, Catherine had to take the children to a before-school program and then hurry home to meet them when they got off the bus. The daily grind was just that- a grind.
A month after the laundry began to pile up, Charles, her husband, asked a question,then made a comment, and finally a suggestion. "Why aren't you taking care of the laundry? You know we can't have anyone over to the house because you aren't keeping up with the cleaning. Maybe you should take a day off from work to clean the house."
Catherine looked at Charles and responded, "Why don't you?"
"What?"
"Why don't you take a day off from work and clean the house?"
"Why would I do that? I work hard all day, the last thing I want to do is take a day off to clean. Oh, I get it, you were being rhetorical. Okay, okay, this Sunday I will take the children somewhere so you can get some work done." he responded as he walked into the next room. He was done discussing it.
An afternoon to myself? What will I do? I could get the laundry sorted and the living room vacuumed, but I don't think I am going to do that. I think I deserve to be pampered a little bit!she thought while she hummed a little off-key tune to herself.
Sunday came and went, the laundry was still piled high, the dishes were in the sink, and the living room floor was getting decidedly crunchy. However, Catherine had a new Mani-pedi and hairstyle.
"What did you do?" Charles fumed. "I gave you an afternoon to get caught up. I took the children out for the day so you could clean the house, not get your nails done!"
"I work hard all week and thought that getting a little bit of me-time would make me feel happier," she responded. "Maybe you can take the children again this coming weekend. I'm sure that I will be able to get something done."
"I can't, I am going down to my brother's to watch the game."
The detente was strained. The laundry was barely being addressed, and the overall cleanliness of the house was deteriorating. The children did not notice. As long as they had clean clothes, food to eat, toys, cartoons, and a bedtime story, they were content; or so it seemed.
One day, two months after Catherine's strike began and on her day off, Brian, their six year old son, climbed onto his mother's lap and asked "Why don't you love us anymore?"
"What makes you say that?" Catherine nervously laughed. "Of course I love you!"
"You don't like the house then?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, you used to clean all the time. When we got home from school, you cooked dinner, and then cleaned up. When we got up in the morning, you had cleaned more. You also liked doing the laundry, why do you hate it all so much?"
"Oh, you thought I liked to clean and do laundry because I was doing it so much?" she inquired.
"Why else would you do it?"
"To show that I cared for my family... Oh, now I see," she murmured. "If I stopped doing those things, I must no longer love you, is that it?"
"Yes," he responded shyly.
"No, it doesn't mean that I no longer love you or the family or the house. It means that Mommy is tired of doing it all. Mommy is tired of no one noticing all that she does and how hard she works. When I stopped cleaning all the time I was able to spend a little more time with you and your sister. I read extra stories and I even baked your favorite cookies. I stopped cleaning so much because I didn't think it mattered to anyone."
"It does matter Mommy. Do you want me to help you put away laundry? I don't think there is anything in my drawers or closet anymore. It should be easy to do."
"Thank you my love, I would love some help."
With a lighter heart, Catherine took Brian's hand in hers and walked upstairs to tackle the laundry monster.
When Charles got home from work he noticed that the laundry was finally put away and that the living room was vacuumed. Ha, he thought, I knew I could out-wait her!
(to be continued)
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Friday, March 27, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Job charts for the children
For those who know me, I have been vocal on how crazy my children have been lately. I am home right now recovering from an injury to my back and the children are making my recovery more challenging. How? Well, nothing says pain like tripping over My Little Pony figurines or stepping on Legos when one's back is already hurting.
To regain my sanity (and to reduce the chances of hurting myself more) I made job charts for my children.
From the categories, you know what my children are struggling with. Miriam is nearly eight years old and we are still having issues with listening, picking up toys, and being kind to her brother. Benjamin is five years old and due to his medical condition, we still struggle with potty training, but the tantrums are ruling our lives right now.
I sat down with the children and explained what I was going to do and why. I also asked them what categories I should have to see if we were on the same page. Miriam was old enough to figure out that what I am fussing about is what I want done whereas Ben needed some nudging. Once we had the categories done, we agreed on a reward system. If reading about B.F. Skinner taught me anything, it was that we need to shape the behavior we want and if you want a behavior to last, punishment is not how you make it last, reward is the key. Now, with three years difference, the goals needed to be obtainable, so for Miriam, if she gets a magnet in each day for a category she gets a sticker. When she has three stickers at the end of a week, she gets a prize. After two weeks, she will need to get four stickers to get a prize. After four weeks, it will be five stickers. And finally, after six weeks, she will need six stickers to get a reward. Once we are up to the behaviors I wish to have for the week, the long term goal will be to maintain them, so I will up the ante: it will take more stickers to get bigger rewards. I can also change the categories to include more age appropriate categories and give an allowance. For Ben, the system will be the same except he still gets a sticker for a category if he misses two days in the week and he starts with only needing two stickers to get a prize. The added bonus was that we discuss our day before going to bed which is a nice summary skill.
How did I make them? It was very easy and really quite cheap. What you will need (I had almost everything in my house, but you might have to stop off at the Dollar Tree and/or Kmart):
To regain my sanity (and to reduce the chances of hurting myself more) I made job charts for my children.
From the categories, you know what my children are struggling with. Miriam is nearly eight years old and we are still having issues with listening, picking up toys, and being kind to her brother. Benjamin is five years old and due to his medical condition, we still struggle with potty training, but the tantrums are ruling our lives right now.
I sat down with the children and explained what I was going to do and why. I also asked them what categories I should have to see if we were on the same page. Miriam was old enough to figure out that what I am fussing about is what I want done whereas Ben needed some nudging. Once we had the categories done, we agreed on a reward system. If reading about B.F. Skinner taught me anything, it was that we need to shape the behavior we want and if you want a behavior to last, punishment is not how you make it last, reward is the key. Now, with three years difference, the goals needed to be obtainable, so for Miriam, if she gets a magnet in each day for a category she gets a sticker. When she has three stickers at the end of a week, she gets a prize. After two weeks, she will need to get four stickers to get a prize. After four weeks, it will be five stickers. And finally, after six weeks, she will need six stickers to get a reward. Once we are up to the behaviors I wish to have for the week, the long term goal will be to maintain them, so I will up the ante: it will take more stickers to get bigger rewards. I can also change the categories to include more age appropriate categories and give an allowance. For Ben, the system will be the same except he still gets a sticker for a category if he misses two days in the week and he starts with only needing two stickers to get a prize. The added bonus was that we discuss our day before going to bed which is a nice summary skill.
How did I make them? It was very easy and really quite cheap. What you will need (I had almost everything in my house, but you might have to stop off at the Dollar Tree and/or Kmart):
- metal cookie sheet (Dollar Tree)
- craft paint/ house paint (I used semi-gloss white house paint)
- a flexible ruler for the lines
- permanent markers (I had the children choose their colors)
- magnets (enough for 7 x the number of categories; the most expensive part of the craft)
- stickers
- ribbon (to hang the chart off of)
- hot glue gun and sticks (to glue the ribbon on)
- hook (whatever kind you want for wherever you will hang the chart, I use 3M removable)
- small prizes for the rewards
Once you have items assembled, paint the metal cookie sheet and allow to dry for about three hours. Using a flexible ruler, make the lines on the painted surface. I gave myself two inches of space at the top and then spaced lines one inch apart for the categories. I wrote the categories first and then gave myself about an inch square for each day of the week. Once all categories and days of the week are labeled, flip the cookie sheet over and hot glue the ribbon onto the back. I don't have a measurement, I eyeballed the length based on how low I wanted the chart to hang. I used 3M hooks on their bedroom doors. Done in less than four hours, and most of the time was waiting for the paint to dry!
Visit Tamara's profile on Pinterest.
Update:
This is what was accomplished after one week.
Visit Tamara's profile on Pinterest.
Update:
This is what was accomplished after one week.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Owning my imperfections
It sometimes seems as if my life careens wildly from one disaster to another. I wonder what other people's lives are like- quiet, serene, picture perfect?
Let's be honest, I am as far away from that of the magazine-mother as one can get, and my children are, well, products of their mother. When I got married and had children, I thought I would be a great mom- I have a degree in Psychology and Education for goodness sake! What has happened has not been perfect, it has been exactly imperfect. How do I know how badly I am doing? I am constantly reminded of my inadequacies on Facebook. I see the photos of my friends' children as they dance, somersault, climb, ski, read, travel, explore, wander, and just live a better life than I can give my children. I must admit I am super jealous. I have read about how well other children listen to their mothers and pick up their toys. As much as I wish it to be true, I am not going to be Mother of the Year. Each day I am just trying to be Mother of the Moment. I am terrible at it, but I am trying.
I often wonder if other moms are going through the same issues; however, we have been conditioned to be our own family PR managers. We don't want to portray a less than perfect appearance whether it is on Facebook, Pinterest, a blog, or another social medium. I recently realized that others do not share their day to day nonsense from their lives, while I am an open book. I do not mean to over share, but I want to know that I am not alone in this crazy dance called motherhood. Coming to this state at an older age means that those who I would have asked have forgotten since they had their children when they were "supposed" to, and those who have children at a similar age to mine are looking to me for guidance!
I have two friends who are absolutely wonderful at this motherhood thing (I have others who rock and roll all things motherhood too, but these two are superhuman!). One is a successful lawyer, mother of three, and a nationally recognized writer. She bakes homemade goodies for her children who are the envy of those around them. In addition to this she is one of the nicest people you could ever meet. My other friend is a commercial property manager, mother of two wonderful boys who both have medical conditions, runs a side business, and makes sure that her children have fantastic opportunities that she usually gets at deep discounts because she is a coupon queen. Did I mention that her sons' birthday parties are creative, interactive, and completely homemade? She too is simply wonderful to be around. I look at all they do and wonder how they can do so much and be sane and nice. I feel like a troll who lives under a bridge raising her children in the wild compared to these two, but at the same time I know they have experienced the ups and downs of imperfect motherhood.
I will never achieve their level of awesomeness, but I'm okay with that. They don't rub it in my face that their children are better than mine or that their children's medical conditions are worse than my child's medical condition or otherwise make me feel inferior. I don't feel as if they are secretly thinking less of me because my son has injured himself for the umpteenth time this week or that my daughter has sassed me to the point that I am considering renting her out to my Amish neighbors to remind her of her cushy life.No, they support me and give me great advice with no side order of judgment.
Do I wish I was a better mom? Sure I do, but I am owning my imperfections. Once I began letting go what I thought others were able to achieve, it allowed me to see my children for the blessings they are. Will I still post things on Facebook? Of course, there needs to be at least one mom out there keeping it real, but I will no longer worry that my children are missing out compared to others. They are perfectly imperfect children and they are mine.
http://cdn.meme.am/instances/500x/60356633.jpg
https://www.pinterest.com/tmnewtonweaver/
Let's be honest, I am as far away from that of the magazine-mother as one can get, and my children are, well, products of their mother. When I got married and had children, I thought I would be a great mom- I have a degree in Psychology and Education for goodness sake! What has happened has not been perfect, it has been exactly imperfect. How do I know how badly I am doing? I am constantly reminded of my inadequacies on Facebook. I see the photos of my friends' children as they dance, somersault, climb, ski, read, travel, explore, wander, and just live a better life than I can give my children. I must admit I am super jealous. I have read about how well other children listen to their mothers and pick up their toys. As much as I wish it to be true, I am not going to be Mother of the Year. Each day I am just trying to be Mother of the Moment. I am terrible at it, but I am trying.
I often wonder if other moms are going through the same issues; however, we have been conditioned to be our own family PR managers. We don't want to portray a less than perfect appearance whether it is on Facebook, Pinterest, a blog, or another social medium. I recently realized that others do not share their day to day nonsense from their lives, while I am an open book. I do not mean to over share, but I want to know that I am not alone in this crazy dance called motherhood. Coming to this state at an older age means that those who I would have asked have forgotten since they had their children when they were "supposed" to, and those who have children at a similar age to mine are looking to me for guidance!
I have two friends who are absolutely wonderful at this motherhood thing (I have others who rock and roll all things motherhood too, but these two are superhuman!). One is a successful lawyer, mother of three, and a nationally recognized writer. She bakes homemade goodies for her children who are the envy of those around them. In addition to this she is one of the nicest people you could ever meet. My other friend is a commercial property manager, mother of two wonderful boys who both have medical conditions, runs a side business, and makes sure that her children have fantastic opportunities that she usually gets at deep discounts because she is a coupon queen. Did I mention that her sons' birthday parties are creative, interactive, and completely homemade? She too is simply wonderful to be around. I look at all they do and wonder how they can do so much and be sane and nice. I feel like a troll who lives under a bridge raising her children in the wild compared to these two, but at the same time I know they have experienced the ups and downs of imperfect motherhood.
I will never achieve their level of awesomeness, but I'm okay with that. They don't rub it in my face that their children are better than mine or that their children's medical conditions are worse than my child's medical condition or otherwise make me feel inferior. I don't feel as if they are secretly thinking less of me because my son has injured himself for the umpteenth time this week or that my daughter has sassed me to the point that I am considering renting her out to my Amish neighbors to remind her of her cushy life.No, they support me and give me great advice with no side order of judgment.
Do I wish I was a better mom? Sure I do, but I am owning my imperfections. Once I began letting go what I thought others were able to achieve, it allowed me to see my children for the blessings they are. Will I still post things on Facebook? Of course, there needs to be at least one mom out there keeping it real, but I will no longer worry that my children are missing out compared to others. They are perfectly imperfect children and they are mine.
http://cdn.meme.am/instances/500x/60356633.jpg
https://www.pinterest.com/tmnewtonweaver/
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