Sore Tongue

Ouch.......I've been biting my tongue a lot this week.


Lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about the parts of my life which feel inconsistant. At park day last week a few of us got to talking about housework and chores and who does what. As the conversation carried on, I felt really clear. I've written here about my struggles with expecting (premeditated resentment, right?) help around the house on my terms. Most days I'm able to keep the nagging at bay, and take responsibility for my own needs for "neat and tidy" without demanding it of others. I ask for help or make my needs known and let others pitch in and help without demands, bribes, nagging, whining....whatever. But a few days passed and the conversation haunted me a bit.

I hadn't actually been walking my talk lately. It's not that I had suddenly assigned chores, or demanded made beds by noon or anything, but something about the whole housework situation wasn't sitting well with me. Mostly, I think it's about expectations. I've been carrying around an expectation that everyone else in the house has the same level of need for "neat and tidy". Not true. I think I've also been carrying around a beilef that if I remind sweetly (rather than nag loudly) that dishes go on the sink or remind someone (who will remain nameless, of course) that shoes go under the bench (for the one millionth time today) that one day I would wake up and these little annoyances will be gone.

The kids and I talked about it yesterday and I explained that I didn't think I was doing such a great job letting go of my need for control in this area and that it didn't feel respectful. I had lots more to say, but their eyes were glazing over and Charley suggested I just pay him for chores like at his dad's house and they'll get done real quick. Whatever. It's not so much a conversation that needed to happen but a shift on my part. More alignment with my beliefs, I suppose.

Therefore......I've been biting my tongue A LOT today. Shoes are not under the bench (ghastly!). Dishes didn't make it into the sink (horrors!). But I think I'll live. And it feels a bit more peaceful inside me.