SISTER WISDOM

This guest post is by Chandra Hawkins-Bernat. If you’re interested in writing a guest post for Sister Wisdom, see the guidelines here.

I confess that pre-marriage and baby carriage, I had grandiose visions: children nestled sweetly under their (clean) sheets in a perfectly decorated bedroom, a family gathered around an immaculate dining room table, gourmet meals with coordinating napkins, lit candles, and the perfect mood music playing in the background. No picky eaters, no noisy conversationalists, no spilled milk all over Grandma Lizzie’s tablecloth.

Well, somewhere between here and the Twilight Zone, reality dawned. These visions, though certainly not bad, were not really very practical. They were hindering me from enjoying the moment and living life as life was meant to be: Honest, hopeful, happy, and free.

I come from a long line of immaculate housekeepers, who wanted to impart that trait on the next generation of women in their family. I had assumed that regardless of little mess-makers underfoot, I would be able to scrub my floors on my hands and knees once a week, dust once a week, vacuum once a day, be able to drink water from the toilet bowl, and never have be a dish or piece of laundry out of place.

As most mommas know, there are weeks that we feel that just taking a shower is an accomplishment akin to climbing Everest. And as far as keeping up with laundry goes that may as well be some uncharted territory on the Amazon where Native peoples and undiscovered insects inhabit. So how do we find that balance where familial and cultural expectations and necessity and desire lie?

Its been a slow process, but I have come to the conclusion through too many days of feeling overwhelmed and feeling something of a failure, that we are not the servants of our home, but our home is meant to serve us. With the dawning of this revelation, I felt like a burden was lifted! And perhaps more importantly, I felt free.

Let me illustrate:

One day while crying on the phone to my Grandma about my laundry nightmare she gave me some of the best advice: “Don’t sweat the small stuff, Chandra.” Momentarily arriving from out of my pity party, I sniffed. “How do I do that when my kids have to have clean underwear?”

She went on to explain to me that my Aunt, who happens to be a very busy middle school principle, doesn’t sort her laundry and doesn’t fold it. Grandma told me that my Aunt just figures that it gets wrinkled up anyway once in the drawers. I had an epiphany.

Folding laundry is one of those things that I felt that I had to do. It’s just what you are supposed to do, that’s what my mother taught me, that’s what Martha Stewart says. Right?

Wrong. If your laundry gets washed, but gets stuck on your husband’s pool table (I won’t mention names here. Ahem…) and you end up sorting through that collective pile for the next month or so, then obviously your idea of folding your laundry and having organized drawers and closets is not working. Your home has become your master. Its time to reclaim it!

I finally learned to stop folding laundry and screw sorting socks. Our laundry gets put in its appropriate drawers, unfolded. With my little boys rooting around their dresser drawers it doesn’t stay folded anyway. And socks are sorted by family member but not paired. In a family of five, I would rather outlaw socks altogether.
But that’s not practical so this Momma gave up on pairing them. I would much rather go devote that time to some other creative project or a tickle fight. If there is a stray sock, I put it in a little baggie. If its match doesn’t resurface, then I use them for dust mittens for the kids, or make little snowmen out of them for gift embellishments at Christmastime.

Because of this simple, blessed conversation this principle started oozing out and running over into all other aspects of my home. I took to heart that poem about fingerprints on the windowpanes. I wash my windows, but not religiously. I started buying stock in Lysol wipes to keep my bathroom clean. I don’t fret about the dust. I would rather go pick a bouquet out of my garden and set it on a dusty table then waste that time removing the dust in an obsessive-compulsive fashion.
I also learned to set up my kitchen in a way that works for me. Just because your mom had the silverware drawer right by the towels doesn’t mean that that works for you. For me, I have one kid-friendly cabinet that is filled with all of their dishes (sippy cups, plates, bowls). Its easy for them to have access and they can start to help in the kitchen. My breadbox houses granola bars, pistachios, and other types of snacks in order to free up storage space.

Have you ever sorted your book collections by color? I used to think the only way to organize books was by genre’ and alphabetical by author. I threw that stuffy old principle out of the window too! My books are now sorted by color and not only do they add a colorful display, its much more my personality. Free spirited and fun loving.

So, my question to you is simple:

What are some ways that your home has become your master? And how can you go about reclaiming what’s yours? And what are some expectations that have perhaps been passed down from your grandmothers or mother to you that don’t work for you personally?

Today’s 2 Cents Courtesy of:

Chandra Hawkins-Bernat is a daughter of a King, a wife of a Prince, mother of heirs to the Kingdom…and in her spare time she pretends to be a student, author, designer, and artist. She is currently working on a book as well as blogging about being an insanely creative mommy and loving life with boys and an adoring husband. Her posts will leave you feeling inspired to create: memories, beauty, projects of love, and works of art for yourself and your loved ones. Be sure to visit her at MonkeyShine and get inspired!