24 Jan The right measure

„So”, my friend asked casually, digging into his potato dish, „what do you do for fun?”

The question annoyed me back then. There I was, in a dire need of  a few pairs of helpful hands, with my nine-month-old son trying to stand up on his shaky legs, clinging to me as we talked, as I was trying to serve my old college pal dinner and do the dishes by hand (no dishwasher in our rental), all while attempting to keep a lively conversation going. Since my son was my first baby, I tried really hard to look as if I had it all together.

Now, four years and two kids later, I chuckle when I recall my entertaining efforts and I indeed wonder about the meaning of free time, including fun, in one’s life.

Just minutes before the scene depicted above, that college friend and I had compared our lives. Coincidentally, our first-borns came to this world in the same month of the same year, which made for a nice start. Actually, that was also the end of all analogy.

He described the comforts of opening the door each morning to greet three people coming in: a nanny, a cleaner and a cook. While the three helpers were busily assuming their respective duties, my friend and his wife left for work. In my household, on the other hand, I was the nanny, the cleaner and the cook all in one, as it is the case with most stay-at-home mothers. Just like most homemaker parents, I see that it is nearly impossible to excel in all three areas, especially when the number of young children increases. In particular, one’s “cleaner” self is forced to do crazy overtime… and ends up being a permanent failure anyway.

Ever since I embarked on the home+kids journey, I have been noticing that the degree of existential busy-ness and the amount of leisure time tends to shape who we are or how we respond to the world. It’s a two-way street, as we are also in charge of our schedule, tailoring it to our financial capacity, social demands and personal preferences. Our choices then influence directly our routines and determine what our days are like and what sorts of challenges we take on day in and day out.

Initially, when my friend described the morning arrival of his family’s three saviors, I was somewhat envious. Just minutes later, however, I realized that even if I had the means to do the same, I would not choose to be redeemed of all of these duties. I would simply fear that I’ve delegated too much and have become out of touch with the essence of my family routine.

It is a tricky balance.

On the one hand, if we try to do everything by ourselves and be perfect, we may end up in a treadmill of high demands and ultimately feel overwhelmed. If we wake up to a bad day or feel sick these demands are impossible to meet: we seem to be facing mission impossible and we start to lose it.

If, on the other hand, we start to delegate too much, we might end up being too comfortable and drift away, even if only mentally, from family life. It can be as simple as forgetting how significant those countless mundane activities are, how much effort goes into endless cooking for kids of different ages and needs, cleaning those muddy footprints time and again or handling tantrums. Domesticity may seem like a mindless routine that had better be left to someone else to do and off we go on yet another business trip as if I one had not had kids at all.

It is  a tricky balance, indeed.

In the course of my own journey as a primarily stay-at-home mom (I work only two hours a day), I’ve discovered that my attitude is key. I have learnt to regard the homemaking duty as my default calling, for better or for worse, complete with unplanned tantrums, loads of laundry and meals served on a rolling basis. I don’t expect to be able to delegate regularly. I’m entirely responsible for this amazing machinery of human and home resources.

But, I sometimes ask for help when I know what to do with this extra help. With a specific purpose in mind. When I want to have an extra uninterrupted hour of work or need to get something done without my kids’ escort. Or when we need to grab a coffee or attend a Bible study with my husband. Such a delegation makes me relieved and grateful and I come back to my routine re-energized and…yes, relieved that I’m back.

So if I opened the door and saw the three domestic service providers offering permanent in-house help, I would, in all likelihood, thank them and decline politely. I don’t want to forgo celebrating the scary but beautiful reality of being vitally needed. By default. Every time. Every day.