Function over Form: Life as a Harried Housewife/Mother

I feel no remorse nor shame around the messy house that I raised my kids in. I managed our small farm, the gardens, nannied two children, did farmer’s markets, homeschooled, did 4-H in summertime, and was taxi driver to ballet, church activities, and robotics. It was enough work for at least three people.

The house wasn’t dirty. It was untidy. There were always books lying about. There were pots cooking on the stove, beans soaking in a bowl on the counter, butter softening on the island, and dough raising in the mixer. There were eggs from the barn in the sink, needing to be wiped down. There were the remains of the milk, dripping through the filter from that morning’s milking.

There were kids everywhere, at all times. Some were outside reading on the trampoline. Others were on the couch, others at the table, and others in their rooms. And the babies we nannied would be distracting them all between their stints playing with toys on the living room floor.

We had paper messes in at least two places every day. We did a lot of crafts for history classes as well as science. I am a hands-on learner and my kiddos are too. We had a lot of fun. But fun requires messes.

Whether the girls are outside making “potions” out of things in my herb garden or my son was digging in the dirt pile that later I wheelbarrowed around the foundation of our home, there were bits of dirt and green things scattered here and there.

I mopped the floors at least once a day. And we didn’t wear shoes in the house. But we also didn’t wear shoes outside…except when going to the barn to gather eggs.

Sound exhausting and crazy? Well, it was. But I wouldn’t have done it differently…except maybe all of my side gigs. But that would have required a different and functioning marriage, which is hard to come by.

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There were times my father would come over to help fix something or repair an appliance. He’d walk into the house and I’d know exactly what he was thinking. However, if you left my father to “babysit” the kids while I went to work for a bit, he’d clean. I’d come home to scoured pots and pans and somehow, kids who were alive and sleeping in their beds. He was amazing.

No, he hated the messes. He made comments about the messes, even. But, I had to learn to NOT listen to him in order NOT to lose my mind entirely. I knew I couldn’t make everyone happy.

Dad had put a lot of time, energy, and money into my home. And I did my best to make sure he knew how much I appreciated it. Keeping it clean all of the time would have been the straw that broke my back. But, I did my best.

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Another man, my then-husband, wasn’t so helpful. He didn’t show up and tear into a project without an extreme amount of reminding and “nagging”. He never opened the silverware drawer without commenting about how messy it was…with a desire to help tidy it up.

I would have LOVED to have someone to help me with the little things. The silverware drawer bothered me, too. But we, the kids and I, ate three meals a day at that house, homeschooled, and everything else. The silverware drawer was literally the LAST thing on my mind…until he would shame me for it.

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Life was hard. But it was functional. It wasn’t pretty all of the time. But my kids knew they were loved. They were well-fed, well-taught, and well-behaved (because they were loved well). We played hard and worked hard.

But some things fell between the cracks. And to this day, form falls short in order to keep functioning.

But today, I can take a few minutes to keep the silverware tray organized. I can wipe down messes as they are made.

All but one of my kids are gone now. One is in the US Army. One is in college, and another is on her way. And, every day, I miss the days we were all together, making messes and laughing. It wasn’t perfect. But I knew they were safe and I knew they were loved well that day. I could not have loved them more.

I love a tidy silverware drawer. But my kids will always come first.

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P.S. If you are a mom in the throws of life with little children, this article is for you. Breathe, love them, and try to close your eyes to anything that doesn’t keep your goals in sight. They will be gone soon enough. And you can clean the crevices of the stove, the floorboards, and the windowsills then. You will, sadly, have time then.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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