I've Finally Discovered Child Labour!

I’ve long suspected that I am too soft on these kids of mine. I’m a stay-at-home mom with a Type-A personality who thinks that in order to get things done right, I should do it myself. And I wonder why I’m so exhausted and frustrated with the household duties? 

In the past, we’ve had half-hearted attempts at chore lists. My biggest downfall was not being consistent and insistent, letting things slide and then never getting things back on track. I often made things too complicated. Charts are great but we spent far far too much time choosing our stickers then actually getting things done.

Well, my children have had a rude awakening this week. I was inspired in part by a recent visit to a friend’s house whose dutiful children (aged 9 and 11) assisted with the dinner set-up and clearing with nary a rolled eye in sight. I was awestruck! How could I get a piece of this action, I wondered? It wasn’t long before I was dropping suggestions at our weekly family meeting and drawing up various lists of daily and weekly chores, hoping that I could get the kids to buy into a paradigm shift in our home.

When the children awoke today for the first day of school, they were greeted by their expected updated-for-the-new-year morning and evening to-do lists. The usual items were there: feed fish, brush teeth, empty lunch bag, homework, etc. But there was something different.

This year I included some fresh new items: clear breakfast dishes AND put them in the dishwasher, make sandwich and assemble lunch bag, clear dinner dishes AND put them in the dishwasher and...”daily chore: see chart.” I directed the puzzled minions, I mean munchkins, to a new addendum to the fridge clutter: a list of daily and weekly chores, divided among the three of them. I’ve kept it simple: unload the dishwasher, help with dinner, sweep kitchen floor daily and clean bathroom (with help), dust & vacuum main floor and wash kitchen floor weekly.

With some gentle and persistent encouragement this evening, I was positively amazed at what these 7 and 9 year olds are capable of contributing to the household! I enjoyed their company in the kitchen before and after dinner and was thrilled to not have to do every little thing myself. Eureka! I am kicking myself for not getting this started earlier but I am looking forward staying the course. I’m hoping that if the kids feel more like a contributing member of the household perhaps they’ll feel like contributing more. It’s a long shot but I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Confessions of a Soccer Mom

© Cathysbelleimage | Dreamstime.com

I am sitting down with ice on my legs as I write this. I am not tidying the house or carrying loads of laundry up and down the stairs because I simply cannot. Last night I played in my first soccer game...ever.

Registering the kids for various activities and schlepping them all over town to ballet, hockey, skating lessons, soccer, Sparks and Beavers (just to name a few) is something that I do with love. I make a concerted effort not to over-schedule our time, not only for the kids’ sake but for my own sanity. However, two activities each multiplied by three kids and a spouse who is often out of town makes mom a little nuts.

So I had a brilliant revelation: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! Yes, I confess. I signed up for a Women’s Over 19 Soccer House League on the urging of a school-mom friend of mine. I bought my first pair of cleats (black with hot pink) and my first shinguards (also hot pink). I arrived early to pick up my uniform and surveyed the other players. Most of them looked just over 19 and I figured that I must be in the wrong spot. Thankfully I saw the more harried (and older) moms rushing in after the dinner rush at home. Phew! My jersey is navy blue with red trim and I managed to snag my favourite number: lucky number 7. I was all set.

On Sunday night, I arrived trepadatiously at the field in the cold wind and rain praying that someone might have the sense to cancel the game and give me a week’s reprieve. They did not. And even with my repeated “I have no idea what I am doing” and “I have never EVER played before” my teammates encouraged me and still put me on the field. My heart was pounding. I was afraid of the ball (not a good start), the other players and generally of embarrassing myself.

Thankfully all those hours spent on the sidelines cheering on my uniformed kids on the pitch has somewhat paid of. I think I played my position (after I figured out what that meant). There were a couple of times that my foot actually made contact with the ball and moved it in the general direction to which it was intended. No one yelled at me for being an idiot or told me to get off the field (hooray!). And best of all? I didn’t sustain any injuries to my creaky 40 year old body. (At least not that I know of yet.)

Our team ended up on the winning side at a score of 3-1. We were wet and cold and sore but it felt good. The feeling of camaraderie was palpable and I’m looking forward to my practice this week (and the promise of beers after our next game). Instead of sitting on the sidelines, it feels good to be doing something for myself even though adding two or three more items is seriously complicating our weekly schedule. Once I am able to regain full use of my legs I think that it will be worth it in the end, showing my kids that I have a life of my own and that we have some commonalities. My kids can probably teach me a thing or three about the beautiful game and I can’t wait.