a pretty sample of knits waiting for hand washing
I have a confession, I'm a shouty house wife. No matter how hard I try to be gentle and demure it's just not me. And when it comes to the weekends I go into overdrive.
Well, you know, here's an opportunity for me to relax and enjoy my family so why not sabotage it?
Each weekend, often on a sunday morning I find myself in the usual predicament - stressed about the state of the house.
During the week I spend a good portion of each day tidying up. I wipe up after breakfast and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I cut a plate of fresh fruit for morning tea then wipe up and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I make the kids Vegemite sandwiches for lunch then wipe up and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
My days are punctuated by spray and wipe sessions and you know, it's kind of got a nice rhythm about it. It's work and i'm okay with that.
Yet on a subconscious level I expect the weekends to be different. I secretly think that maybe someone else will sort the washing and wipe the wee from the toilet seat and the floor. So when I leave my coffee cup next to the bed, my breakfast plate on the table and my pj's next to the shower, It's with a jolt of surprise that I find them still sitting there waiting for me.
What? Don't they know it's the weekend?
It would appear not.
And you know, that really offends me.
Doesn't my home know that I care little for being it's slave? I'm a real human with interests and needs and a brain* and I truly don't want to spend my entire weekend with the kitchen sponge. I really don't.
So what do I do when all the cleaning and tidying and wiping gets too much?
I get shouty.
It's not pretty.
This weekend when Dave asked me where we should plant out new fruit tress I shouted 'I don't care, plant them wherever you want!' before storming back inside armed with my spray and wipe.
When he enquired about the placement of the cauliflowers he intended to place in the veg garden, my response was the same.
It wasn't until I found myself alone on the back deck bringing in one load of washing and hanging out another, cursing the sunshine, the weekend and everything good in the world that I snapped out of it.
There my children were with snot on their faces and dirt stuck to the snot, playing happily in the garden with their father. Oblivious to my nasty mood they carried on contentedly, indulging Dave on the placement of above mentioned plants.
And there I was, pegging out the washing ALONE and missing out on all the fun.
I promptly put on my gumboots and joined the more balanced, carefree members of my family.
Next weekend, I'll join them sooner.
Tell me, are you driven into a shouty rage by the weekend filth? Does your house work pile up when everyone is at home? Tell me i'm not the only nut case on the planet.
*all be it small