I’m just going to go ahead and say it.
They sucked when we were ten and they suck now. Maybe they even suck more now because last time I checked we don’t get paid for them, no one even says thank you when the crap-tasks are completed and no longer do you have one or two per day like you did as a kid, now you have twenty.
No…more like fifty…fifty thousand.
Here are the life-tasks that are truly kicking my ass lately:
Mowing The Lawn.
This used to be my husband’s job but a few summers ago I noticed that he looked like he might be enjoying lawn care. He spent hours in the sun, cracked a few beers open while mowing and got out of childcare duties for a few hours every Saturday. So I took it away from him and now I am paying the price for it. I mow during the week so that we have more time to get on each others nerves on the weekend. With the kids needing me every ten seconds it takes me about ten hours to complete this task every week. It isn’t even the actually cutting of the grass that is making me lose my shit. It’s the dumping and bagging of the clippings and the yard prep. I’m not walking around the yard cleaning up dog shit and rouge toys, pre-mowing, I’m just not! Everything is getting plowed over. Last week I mowed over mail. It might have been junk mail, maybe a bill, perhaps a check for one million dollars. I guess now we will never know what it was now will we.
Washing laundry is tolerable. Drying it and carrying it upstairs is not bad either. Constantly sorting six peoples socks and undies is mentally exhausting. Families with one mom, one dad, a boy and a girl don’t know how easy they have it in this department. My two older girls are virtually the same size and the twins clearly are the same size and my oldest isn’t that far behind me in size. Everything in the basket requires intense thought and consideration during the sorting process. Then when the piles are finally sorted each kid has four million possible drawers to put items away in. The logistics of it all is enough to make me want to raise a colony of nudists.
This chore sucks because it was really unexpected. We knew adulting would include sweeping, mopping and laundry but baseboards? Really? Yes really. If you don’t scrub them they collect dog hair, grime and filth. Once you notice they are looking dingy you cannot turn away. You must clean them. So enjoy spending one day a week on your hands and knees doing the most thankless chore known to mankind. You see outside from you, no one will ever notice your baseboard cleanliness. I’m pretty sure I have been so desperate for someone to take a peek at my sparkling, white floor moldings that I have included it in my house-guest welcome. “Oh hi! Come on in, the kids are in the toy-room… so I just cleaned my baseboards (hint hint,) what’s new with you?”
Cleaning out the Car
Want to feel bad about yourself? Clean out your car. What is wrong with me that I can be shining baseboards weekly but not seem to notice the french fries and doughnut crumbs reproducing in my backseat? How can I pride myself on being a good mother when my family vehicle is one small step away from being considered a biological hazard to human kind? What even is that filth? Smoothie? Slime? An alien life form? No idea. I’m so ashamed to have driven this dirty, sticky mom-mobile through the school pick up line. So embarrassing. I could save myself the embarrassment and clean it out more frequently…but this chore sucks and I despise it.
So we have not been hit with a lice infestation in about three years. The whole experience was enough to traumatize me for life though. I now make sure to do frequent head checks on the girls just to make sure I am not allowign cirtters to take up residence in their hair. The thing is this: just doing the comb through sends anxiety surging through my entire body. If I find just one egg I will lose my fucking shit. So I hold my breath, praying to the Gods that we have clean heads. It is so stressful, and the kids bitch and whine through the entire process. Perhaps I should just shave their heads and be done with this. Bald nudists.
Of course there are one million other chores that have me cursing under my breath all day long, but these guys are the ones that really make me a hater.
Chores. The armpits of motherhood.