Ouch.
I will begin this prompt with an admission, followed by a list of excuses.
My house is messy. Not dirty--I vacuum, mop, dust, and scrub those surfaces that are most often used/noticed (floors, countertops, toilets, shelves). Trash is removed and emptied on a regular basis. General clutter; however, is my nemesis. Papers and junk mail routinely pile up on kitchen countertops and the dining room table. Books and magazines stack up on the coffee table. Clean laundry requiring ironing will hang on a rack in the laundry room for weeks at a time.
My house is never suitable for company. Fortunately, I work so much (and volunteer so much... and sleep so much...and read so much...and watch TV so much) that I rarely have the time or opportunity to invite "company" into my home.
Most of my friends--especially my Single Working Mom Friends--have equally catastrophic homes. Consequently, our favorite satellite TV shows are "Clean House" and "Hoarders" because they make us feel superior.
At least our houses don't look THAT bad!
While I was away on vacation, a friend of mine and her teenage daughters took care of our dogs and watered my plants. I came home to find my kitchen counters cleaned and tidied, the dishes in the dishwasher washed and put away. My friend is a Stay-at-Home Mom who keeps an immaculate, "showcase" home at all times. I think she looked at my dirty oven and cluttered countertops, and it made her "twitchy." She couldn't help herself--she HAD to clean them! I didn't know if I should be horrified and ashamed to learn that my house was so messy that she felt compelled to clean it, or if I should enthusiastically "re-hire" her for when I go to Philadelphia in August, so she can start on my garage.
I saw plenty of "showcase" homes when I was House-Hunting. I watch Home Improvement/Make-Over shows and "ooh" and "ahhh" as much as the next person, but ALL of those shows convert spaces into looking like Hotel Rooms. I don't WANT to live in a Hotel Room! I get particularly "bugged" when they put a whole bunch of store-bought "dust-catchers" on shelves to represent a "theme." HUH? I'm sorry, but the STUFF on my shelves should be items I personally-selected that actually MEAN something to ME and my kids and NOT something you snatched off a shelf at Cost Plus or bought online from HomeGoods!
When I walk into a person's HOME, I feel "uncomfortable" if it looks like a Hotel Room.
When you walk into MY home you see Dog Beds (so you know we are Dog-People NOT Cat-People.) You will also see bookcases in every room and books scattered about coffee tables, end tables and other raised surfaces. (So you know we are "Bookish" people.) You will also find my mother's quilted creations hanging on the walls, along with other "artwork" (framed prints and personal photos) reflecting people and places that actually mean something to me and my children.
You will see furniture that I "inherited" from my Grandmother. You might have to step over kids' backpacks and Video Game Systems and Controllers. But, you will find an impressive collection of cookbooks and an assortment of prints and signs tacked to the walls expressing our collectively sarcastic sense of humor. You will find a collage frame in the entryway filled with pictures of my mother. You will find stacks of papers on the kitchen counter and in my bedroom related to my JOB because I am fortunate enough to HAVE a job that allows me to work from home once or twice a week.
Yeah, so my House is MESSY, but so is LIFE. I have limited amounts of "down-time" as a Working Mom with a Demanding Career. I choose to spend that time engaging in "other" activities that do not always include "de-cluttering" my Living Space. Sometimes I sleep-in on Saturday mornings until Noon. Sometimes I get up at 7:00 am just so I can treat my kids to Homemade Cinnamon Rolls. Sometimes I chuck it all and Go Fishing.
I work because I HAVE TO. It never, ever occurred to me that there could be/would be any other kind of life. My mother, as brilliant as she was, had limited opportunities, and she HATED that. She LOVED the fact that my sister and I had CAREERS and while she was alive, she bent over backwards to support them.
So, if my House is "messy," my response is "Who Cares?" And, if so, "WHY?"
It's MY HOUSE. Also, I'm doing the Best I Can.
I am a Mother and an Employee. I also used to be a Wife. I couldn't do anything well when I tried to be everything all at once. So, I chose my battles.
Housework, obviously, did not make the "Short List."
Showing posts with label free time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label free time. Show all posts
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Friday, December 21, 2007
New Hobby
When I first got divorced, I was pre-occupied by the chaos and change of establishing separate households, worrying over my children and how they were coping, and how I would let the rest of the world know what had happened (I wound up "announcing the news" in my Christmas Card Letters, 5 months after the divorce had been finalized--wow, wasn't THAT graceful?) There was no time or energy left over to focus on myself. I just tried to get through one day at a time, then one week at a time, and then (for a long time), one paycheck to the next. I held it together the best I could, hoping my children would see my strengths rather than my weaknesses. I had to adjust to separation from my children for days at a time, for the first time ever. And, even then, I didn't spend that time focusing on doing things for myself. I pretty much sat around sobbing and feeling sorry for myself until the kids came home. I didn't clean my house or cook or do much of anything. I certainly didn't go anywhere.
But it's 3 years later, and I no longer cry when my kids go to their dad's. Sometimes I even look forward to it because I finally get a break from the cooking...and the laundry...and the nagging...and the whining...
I sleep late in the mornings, put in some extra hours at work, poke around in bookstores or the public library, watch movies that aren't rated G. I still don't clean my house because I don't want to spend my "free-time" cleaning. It's MY time, and I have learned to embrace it, rather than fear it. I put in extra hours at work (which is okay because I love my job and those few extra hours help me to get organized and meet my deadlines). I shop. I buy "gifts" for myself. I run errands, so I won't have to drag the kids around when they come home. Sometimes I tackle some particularly onerous chores, and sometimes I dink around on the internet coming up with new ideas of how I should spend my free time.
My son is a Cub Scout, and several of my "new friends" are other Cub Scout Moms. Our Pack goes camping as a group every summer, and I look forward to it every year. Most people find it surprising that I have learned to enjoy camping. I am not a particularly "outdoorsy" type. I was always the "girly-girl," the cheerleader, the prissy woman who hated to go a day without a shower and never went anywhere in public without makeup on. But I have a new appreciation for camping, thanks to scouting. Our Pack Leader takes us places (within this state I have lived in my entire life) that I have never been to before. I have a much better appreciation for "wilderness" because it is a peaceful, serene escape. No cell phones, no TV, no computers. It's absolute darkness, fresh air, scenic vistas.
Through Scouting Camping Trips, I also re-discovered fishing. I used to go fishing with my Dad and my Grandpa all the time as a kid. I never particularly cared for it unless I caught something--my competitive nature enjoyed the thrill of accomplishment--but I was not particularly patient or capable of sitting still for long periods of time. The Daddy-Daughter fishing trips became non-existent when my sister and I reached our Teens. Our father was busy working long hours at a stressful job he didn't particularly care for, but that he took on to make more money because he was preparing to provide for our college educations. I never missed it. But now, after fishing on the Scouting trips, I have realized that fishing is a great hobby. I live in the Southwest, in a state with few lakes. Most of our lakes are actually man-made. But, my state has hidden pockets of natural beauty, particularly around those lakes--even the man-made ones. I like bodies of water. I find them calming, soothing, peaceful. Fishing is also calming, soothing, and peaceful. It's the ONLY time in my life where I am able to make my mind "be still." When I am fishing, I'm not "thinking" about things or reflecting on my life. I'm actually thinking about fishing--what bait I want to try, where I want to place it, where I think the fish might be during a certain time of day. But that, in itself, is an escape. I'm thinking about fishing--I'm NOT THINKING about my divorce, or my ex, or my job, or my kids, or my 30-pound post-divorce weight gain that I need to do something about.
I have become a Woman Who Fishes. It's my new hobby, and I am entirely self-taught. I remember nothing my Dad and my Grandpa tried to teach me, besides how to cast. So, I bought a book (because you can learn everything you need to know about anything from a book). That book taught me what kind of bait and tackle to buy. I learned how to tie knots in fishing line to properly attach that bait and tackle. I learned where fish are likely to "hang out" during different times of day. One weekend while the kids were at their dad's, I took myself camping. I pitched the tent all by myself. I cooked over charcoal for the first time in about 15 years. I spent a good 10 hours fishing at various times of the day, retreating to the cool shade of my tent in the afternoon to do some reading and take a nap. I didn't catch a darn thing, but that wasn't the point. It was a restful, relaxing, completely ALONE weekend. My mother was apopleptic that I would do something "so dangerous," convinced that a serial killer would prey upon me in my aloneness. (I don't think serial killers expect to find vulnerable females alone at a campground. I was probably safer there than I am in my local grocery store parking lot.)
Next summer, when my kids go to their father's house for an arduous 8 weeks of separation from me, I plan to spend much of that "alone time" fishing. I might even sign up for a week-long Women's Wilderness program in Colorado to learn about backpacking and flyfishing. For my birthday, I just might tell my parents I would like a pair of Waders.
Who knows?
I'm just full of surprises these days!
But it's 3 years later, and I no longer cry when my kids go to their dad's. Sometimes I even look forward to it because I finally get a break from the cooking...and the laundry...and the nagging...and the whining...
I sleep late in the mornings, put in some extra hours at work, poke around in bookstores or the public library, watch movies that aren't rated G. I still don't clean my house because I don't want to spend my "free-time" cleaning. It's MY time, and I have learned to embrace it, rather than fear it. I put in extra hours at work (which is okay because I love my job and those few extra hours help me to get organized and meet my deadlines). I shop. I buy "gifts" for myself. I run errands, so I won't have to drag the kids around when they come home. Sometimes I tackle some particularly onerous chores, and sometimes I dink around on the internet coming up with new ideas of how I should spend my free time.
My son is a Cub Scout, and several of my "new friends" are other Cub Scout Moms. Our Pack goes camping as a group every summer, and I look forward to it every year. Most people find it surprising that I have learned to enjoy camping. I am not a particularly "outdoorsy" type. I was always the "girly-girl," the cheerleader, the prissy woman who hated to go a day without a shower and never went anywhere in public without makeup on. But I have a new appreciation for camping, thanks to scouting. Our Pack Leader takes us places (within this state I have lived in my entire life) that I have never been to before. I have a much better appreciation for "wilderness" because it is a peaceful, serene escape. No cell phones, no TV, no computers. It's absolute darkness, fresh air, scenic vistas.
Through Scouting Camping Trips, I also re-discovered fishing. I used to go fishing with my Dad and my Grandpa all the time as a kid. I never particularly cared for it unless I caught something--my competitive nature enjoyed the thrill of accomplishment--but I was not particularly patient or capable of sitting still for long periods of time. The Daddy-Daughter fishing trips became non-existent when my sister and I reached our Teens. Our father was busy working long hours at a stressful job he didn't particularly care for, but that he took on to make more money because he was preparing to provide for our college educations. I never missed it. But now, after fishing on the Scouting trips, I have realized that fishing is a great hobby. I live in the Southwest, in a state with few lakes. Most of our lakes are actually man-made. But, my state has hidden pockets of natural beauty, particularly around those lakes--even the man-made ones. I like bodies of water. I find them calming, soothing, peaceful. Fishing is also calming, soothing, and peaceful. It's the ONLY time in my life where I am able to make my mind "be still." When I am fishing, I'm not "thinking" about things or reflecting on my life. I'm actually thinking about fishing--what bait I want to try, where I want to place it, where I think the fish might be during a certain time of day. But that, in itself, is an escape. I'm thinking about fishing--I'm NOT THINKING about my divorce, or my ex, or my job, or my kids, or my 30-pound post-divorce weight gain that I need to do something about.
I have become a Woman Who Fishes. It's my new hobby, and I am entirely self-taught. I remember nothing my Dad and my Grandpa tried to teach me, besides how to cast. So, I bought a book (because you can learn everything you need to know about anything from a book). That book taught me what kind of bait and tackle to buy. I learned how to tie knots in fishing line to properly attach that bait and tackle. I learned where fish are likely to "hang out" during different times of day. One weekend while the kids were at their dad's, I took myself camping. I pitched the tent all by myself. I cooked over charcoal for the first time in about 15 years. I spent a good 10 hours fishing at various times of the day, retreating to the cool shade of my tent in the afternoon to do some reading and take a nap. I didn't catch a darn thing, but that wasn't the point. It was a restful, relaxing, completely ALONE weekend. My mother was apopleptic that I would do something "so dangerous," convinced that a serial killer would prey upon me in my aloneness. (I don't think serial killers expect to find vulnerable females alone at a campground. I was probably safer there than I am in my local grocery store parking lot.)
Next summer, when my kids go to their father's house for an arduous 8 weeks of separation from me, I plan to spend much of that "alone time" fishing. I might even sign up for a week-long Women's Wilderness program in Colorado to learn about backpacking and flyfishing. For my birthday, I just might tell my parents I would like a pair of Waders.
Who knows?
I'm just full of surprises these days!
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