Pre-babies I was always a very organised, punctual, independent woman. My house was always clean, I never needed any help with anything, I could do it all. I was proud of my abilities.
Post babies, my laundry basket is never empty, I am constantly cleaning, cooking, washing and ironing. Add in taking care of “my son’s” puppy, helping with homework and being the best boo boo fixer and 5 year old problem solver there is, it is safe to say that I am overwhelmed.
I no longer have it under control and, even though I hate to admit it, I can’t do it by myself. I need help!
Now I know that the first thing many hard working mothers out there might think is “I could relate, I get absolutely no help from my husband either and I have to do everything in the house while he sits back and watches television”. But that isn’t why I am drowning in laundry, dirty dishes and poop (the baby kind and the puppy kind). My husband is always willing to help and to be fair he does do most of the gross dog poop activities, but I don’t get help because I never ask for help.
The independent, single woman in me still feels as though I could do it all and believe me, I still do try, unsuccessfully, to do it all. But that constant struggle to be a “super mom” just results in me being an exhausted wife and mother who is moody because she is tired and because the laundry basket is still full for some reason even though I spent the entire day washing.
Apart from wanting to be a super mom, I think that most women feel as though their husbands should just know when we need help, that we shouldn’t have to ask and that stomping around, complaining about how much we have to do should be a clear enough indication that we need help. But it isn’t. If anything all that does is tell them that we are in a mood and that it is time for them to leave the house to “give us space”.
My husband always says that men aren’t mind readers, if I want something … ask, and that is a fair statement. We aren’t mind readers so why should we expect them to be.
Another thing that I am guilty of doing that renders me help-less is complain. I complain about how my husband folds the clothes incorrectly, or that he puts too much detergent in the washing machine, or that he didn’t pack the dishes in the correct order (I am a little bit OCD with these things). But all that does is deter my husband from helping. He wants to help but then when he sees me refolding the laundry that he just folded, what’s the point right.
I want the help but I am not willing to let him help me. I am not willing to let go of needing things to be done my way which in my mind is synonymous with the right way.
But when you need help and you just want to see the bottom of that laundry basket and still have time and the energy to be a fun and involved wife and mother, any way will do.
So, the next time that you feel overwhelmed, open your mouth, ask for help and then close your eyes when you see the cup that is where the plates should be and a pillowcase in the sock drawer because honestly, it really doesn’t matter and at least you could say the dishes and the laundry are done.