Tag: chores

meeting Mister Right

I don’t know whether I’ve met Mister Right or not yet, but I think there’s one way I’ll know for sure if I do…he’ll ring me up and say, “How about I come over this afternoon and help you around the house and, after that, we can clean up and get some dinner.”

I know it sounds so ridiculously silly, but hear me out: As a single, stressed-out, working mother, my mind is nearly constantly occupied with a running list of to-dos, feeling completely overwhelmed at the sheer impossibility of accomplishing them all, and trying not to break down in tears of frustration or failure. And when I’m dating, I’m thinking that I can either spend time with my beau on the weekend or accomplish long-overdue tasks around the house. It would be nice to do both, but I can’t help but feel I’m sacrificing or giving less effort and attention than I ought to on both fronts.

I can’t imagine any guy thinking this dreamy scenario sounds appealing. In fact, it’s been suggested to me that I need to “let go.” But household maintenance is a reality — “letting go” adds up in ways that, over time, can lead to decline in property value. And, while I’m not abnormally anal about my housekeeping (any longer), I believe that keeping a warm, comfortable and somewhat clean home is one of the important ways I take care of my family. (I do — now that I’ve got a reasonable salary — intend to hire some help in this regard, so that it takes less of my time and psychic energy.)

Just hearing a willingness to partner, to work side-by-side, would demonstrate that a man has listened to me, knows what causes me stress and wants to help ease that stress (because I can’t very well allow him to make such valiant efforts to ease the stress I might feel at my job).

But mostly, a simple demonstration of willingness to pitch in around the house is likely to say — loudly — that this is the sort of fella that might make a good husband.

on co-habiting with the opposite sex

A girlfriend called a few days ago and, per usual, began a rant about the B.S. she’d put up with in relationship with her child’s father. She rehashed a litany of complaints about his slovenliness, assuming I would jump on the ex-bashing bandwagon. I didn’t.

Instead, I told her that I didn’t share her experience:  I LOVED sharing my home and my kitchen and my bed and the housework and all of it! Sure, the occasional coat of facial hair shavings on the bathroom sink was a mild irritant and I never liked the layout of the office, which was primarily his domain. But I loved co-creating our life together — from shopping together for what we each deemed necessary kitchen tools and negotiating menu plans — to our concern for one another when one of us wasn’t feeling well. I loved snuggling up against his warmth in bed. I loved the thought of our pant legs and shirt sleeves intertwined in the laundry.

It’s true that I carried most of the responsibility and had to make most of the decisions. The fact that I can clearly recall the time when my ex noticed that we were nearly out of t.p. and actually went to the store and purchased it speaks volumes. He was inflexible as it related to vacation destinations and ruled out countless menu options.

Living with someone can be a pain in the ass, and I am learning to enjoy the blessings of being the sole adult in my home. But I generally appreciated interdependence of partnership enough to overlook most of the little things. And I look forward to the day when I’m regularly waking up in the same bed as a man I love again!