Separation of House and Barn
Erik is out of town for the weekend having taken Walker to an event in the state capital. I am left home with the two youngest and 40 acres of chores.
I think it's pretty safe to say that each household has its division of labor. Just from my general friendships, (*DISCLAIMER: I am not implying or saying that this is EVERY household in the world - it is just my view of the microscopic circle in which I am part) I think that typically, the household is divided into outside and inside chores.
I realize that many men participate in and maybe even enjoy the inside chores, but generally women do dishes, clean house, do the laundry, shopping, schedule and schlep the children, and men typically mow grass, shovel snow, fix things that need repaired, coach the teams the moms are schlepping the children to. That is just a generality, but one that is, I feel, pretty accurate of the area in which I live. Now, that is not to say that men can't do the inside stuff or women can't do the outside stuff - it just tends to be how it works out. There times in the summer months when I pack up the kids, load up the car and drive to my hometown for a week and leave Erik home alone. I try to have all the laundry done, stock the refrigerator and pantry and leave little notes about what is there to make for meals, etc. I can guarantee you nine times out of 10, when I call Erik at the end of the day to say goodnight, he has either been invited to eat at someone else's house or he just ate "on the go." I come home to expired lunch meat and produce. I don't usually expect Erik to do any of my inside chores because they don't have to be done. I can usually catch up with them when I return. That's not to say I don't appreciate it when he does go ahead and do some of those chores while I'm gone - especially the laundry, but it isn't necessary. Which is funny because while all of the chores I do are vital to our house and family looking and smelling good, basically none of them have to be done daily, well, other than meals.
This time of year at Goodness Grows Farm, outside duties include: starting and maintaing a fire in the outdoor wood burner, feeding goats in two barns, watering goats in one barn, feeding chickens in the chicken house, collecting eggs, feeding a variety of ducks and chickens that live outside of the chicken house at various points in the barn yard, and feeding four dogs. Today this all had to be done in the mud and muck in the pouring rain. And I had to do it all by myself!
The thing about these chores is that they have to be done regardless of who is home! See, when I go away in the summer time to visit my hometown, all the chores I do INSIDE on a regular basis do not have to be done! Erik does not have to do laundry. He does not have to sweep floors, do laundry, cook meals,
do laundry, take out garbage, do laundry, clean toilets, do laundry, make beds . . . and did I mention do laundry?
Sure, most times he does do some of that stuff, but most of the time he doesn't. And that's okay, I'm fine with that. My personal view is that because I have the privilege of being a stay at home mom, there are just certain duties that fall into my jurisdiction as part of the job of staying home. Maybe that's old fashioned, but it's my philosophy.
But here I am, alone, 30 weeks pregnant (yeah, I slipped that one in) and I HAVE to do all of those outside chores or else I won't have any hot water for bathing, cooking or LAUNDRY, no heat in my house and I would have a barnyard of dead animals on my hands (well, I don't think they would really die of starvation in four days, but you get the point).
This realization has given me pause. All of the things I do around here that I think are so vital to our existence here, really aren't. Well, maybe cooking - but that's about it. Okay, and keeping my kids clean, that is kind of important too, but as evidenced by pictures, I don't do such a bang up job on that front.
Here I was earlier tonight feeling all martyrish that not only was I doing my chores (which, by the way, I do not understand how removing one grown man and one six year old boy from the equation lessened my burden by so much, but it did) but I also had to do the outside chores on top of being 30 weeks pregnant (I know, I'm milking the pregnancy thing). I was throwing logs into the fire (logs, I might add, my husband carefully cut to manageable sizes and then stacked in a trailer at the same height as the furnace door so I wouldn't have to do any heavy lifting) the rain soaking my hair and dripping into my eyes, mumbling something about how he'd (my husband) better appreciate the fact that I'm willing to come out here and do all these things! when I realized I took for granted that my husband not only willingly goes out and does all of these chores daily, he does so happily and with no complaint, unlike me, who complains at least a million times a day about the mud and the laundry! I think at most, there have been maybe two times that Erik has complained about a chore and that was when he needed to cut more firewood for the furnace after having already been awake and plowing snow for 16 hours. But he fired up the skid loader, trekked through a foot of snow and cut wood for the furnace because it was VITAL to our survival.
So, I'll end my little tale by admitting that I have been significantly chastised and have let go of my martyrdom. I've turned my complaints to prayers of gratitude for a husband that keeps all the outside chores running so smoothly and for never grumbling about having to do them.
I am grateful for the luxury of living on a farm where the separation of house and barn is an option and that should I ever find the desire to participate in the barn world, I can, but in the meantime, I'll continue to plow through the mountain of laundry that constantly lies in wait, even though I'm 30 weeks pregnant. And I'll try not to think about how much MORE laundry I'm going to have in 10 weeks time.
I think it's pretty safe to say that each household has its division of labor. Just from my general friendships, (*DISCLAIMER: I am not implying or saying that this is EVERY household in the world - it is just my view of the microscopic circle in which I am part) I think that typically, the household is divided into outside and inside chores.
I realize that many men participate in and maybe even enjoy the inside chores, but generally women do dishes, clean house, do the laundry, shopping, schedule and schlep the children, and men typically mow grass, shovel snow, fix things that need repaired, coach the teams the moms are schlepping the children to. That is just a generality, but one that is, I feel, pretty accurate of the area in which I live. Now, that is not to say that men can't do the inside stuff or women can't do the outside stuff - it just tends to be how it works out. There times in the summer months when I pack up the kids, load up the car and drive to my hometown for a week and leave Erik home alone. I try to have all the laundry done, stock the refrigerator and pantry and leave little notes about what is there to make for meals, etc. I can guarantee you nine times out of 10, when I call Erik at the end of the day to say goodnight, he has either been invited to eat at someone else's house or he just ate "on the go." I come home to expired lunch meat and produce. I don't usually expect Erik to do any of my inside chores because they don't have to be done. I can usually catch up with them when I return. That's not to say I don't appreciate it when he does go ahead and do some of those chores while I'm gone - especially the laundry, but it isn't necessary. Which is funny because while all of the chores I do are vital to our house and family looking and smelling good, basically none of them have to be done daily, well, other than meals.
This time of year at Goodness Grows Farm, outside duties include: starting and maintaing a fire in the outdoor wood burner, feeding goats in two barns, watering goats in one barn, feeding chickens in the chicken house, collecting eggs, feeding a variety of ducks and chickens that live outside of the chicken house at various points in the barn yard, and feeding four dogs. Today this all had to be done in the mud and muck in the pouring rain. And I had to do it all by myself!
The thing about these chores is that they have to be done regardless of who is home! See, when I go away in the summer time to visit my hometown, all the chores I do INSIDE on a regular basis do not have to be done! Erik does not have to do laundry. He does not have to sweep floors, do laundry, cook meals,
Sure, most times he does do some of that stuff, but most of the time he doesn't. And that's okay, I'm fine with that. My personal view is that because I have the privilege of being a stay at home mom, there are just certain duties that fall into my jurisdiction as part of the job of staying home. Maybe that's old fashioned, but it's my philosophy.
But here I am, alone, 30 weeks pregnant (yeah, I slipped that one in) and I HAVE to do all of those outside chores or else I won't have any hot water for bathing, cooking or LAUNDRY, no heat in my house and I would have a barnyard of dead animals on my hands (well, I don't think they would really die of starvation in four days, but you get the point).
This realization has given me pause. All of the things I do around here that I think are so vital to our existence here, really aren't. Well, maybe cooking - but that's about it. Okay, and keeping my kids clean, that is kind of important too, but as evidenced by pictures, I don't do such a bang up job on that front.
Here I was earlier tonight feeling all martyrish that not only was I doing my chores (which, by the way, I do not understand how removing one grown man and one six year old boy from the equation lessened my burden by so much, but it did) but I also had to do the outside chores on top of being 30 weeks pregnant (I know, I'm milking the pregnancy thing). I was throwing logs into the fire (logs, I might add, my husband carefully cut to manageable sizes and then stacked in a trailer at the same height as the furnace door so I wouldn't have to do any heavy lifting) the rain soaking my hair and dripping into my eyes, mumbling something about how he'd (my husband) better appreciate the fact that I'm willing to come out here and do all these things! when I realized I took for granted that my husband not only willingly goes out and does all of these chores daily, he does so happily and with no complaint, unlike me, who complains at least a million times a day about the mud and the laundry! I think at most, there have been maybe two times that Erik has complained about a chore and that was when he needed to cut more firewood for the furnace after having already been awake and plowing snow for 16 hours. But he fired up the skid loader, trekked through a foot of snow and cut wood for the furnace because it was VITAL to our survival.
So, I'll end my little tale by admitting that I have been significantly chastised and have let go of my martyrdom. I've turned my complaints to prayers of gratitude for a husband that keeps all the outside chores running so smoothly and for never grumbling about having to do them.
I am grateful for the luxury of living on a farm where the separation of house and barn is an option and that should I ever find the desire to participate in the barn world, I can, but in the meantime, I'll continue to plow through the mountain of laundry that constantly lies in wait, even though I'm 30 weeks pregnant. And I'll try not to think about how much MORE laundry I'm going to have in 10 weeks time.
Life in futility . . .
Being a stay at home mom is very rewarding. I wouldn't change anything about my choice, however, after five and a half years of this profession, I have realized that it is basically an exercise in futility - at least for me. In case you are not familiar with the definition of futile, I've looked it up.
Main Entry: fu·tile Function: adjectiveEtymology: Middle French or Latin; Middle French, from Latin futilis brittle, pointless, probably from fu- (akin tofundere to pour) — more atfoundDate: circa 1555
I guess if I try to look at things in a positive light, I could interpret the scattered toys as an inexpensive home security system. This batch of toys was dumped out right on the mat at the front door. Not that anyone uses our front door -we don't have any steps or a porch leading up to our front door, so it is basically a door to nowhere. But in case someone did try to come in our front door, there is this nice mound of toys for them to have to get past.
Fortunately, this mound of toys is also smack dab at the bottom of the stairs too - so it is a double whammy of deterring burglars and damaging Momma's bare feet. Nothing like a plastic farm animal to wake you up in the morning!
1 : serving no useful purpose : completely ineffective
synonyms futile, vain, fruitless mean producing no result. futile may connote completeness of failure or unwisdom of undertakingfutile that surrender was the only choice left> . vain usually implies failure to achieve a desired result vainattempt to get the car started>.fruitless comes close to vain but often suggests long and arduous effort or severe disappointment <fruitlessefforts to obtain a lasting peace>.
Today is one of those days that everywhere I look, I see projects that need completed, basic chores that need done, and I really feel no inclination to do any of it. All I see is long and arduous effort ending in severe disappointment!
Let's just start with the kitchen. I won't even go into the dishes that need cleaned up and put into the dishwasher. Today I'll just talk about the futility of sweeping the floor. Erik was in charge of supper last night because I went to Bible Study and he kept the kids busy playing outside in leaves until late. Erik never says anything when I want to go do something for myself, so I really shouldn't complain that he doesn't clean up to my specifications, but sometimes, because of the futility of cleaning, I do get a little frustrated when he leaves messes for me to take care of - like this. He didn't sweep the floor under the island after the kids ate.
Crumbs and a hunk of cheese are still lying there. I really can't fault him, because I really do understand how futile it is to sweep. There will just be another mess there in another 2 hours
when it is snack time.
On a positive note, this just reconfirms my gladness at putting in the hardwood instead of a different surface. This flooring is so forgiving, hides most messes, and unless there is a glob of mud on the floor, hides my dirty floors well. It's a little gross, but what can I say, farm life makes cleaning futile. I no sooner get the floor clean than someone walks through with their boots on. I do believe that some of this futility will be alleviated when Christmas comes. I have dropped several not so subtle hints that I want the Shark Pocket Steam Mop. I hope Santa remembers that I want it so desperately!
On to the laundry. This is my laundry/mud room.
When we remodeled the house, it was a large pantry. At the time I thought, "Whatever would I need with such a large pantry?" So we gutted it, moved the door around and the pantry became the much needed laundry and mud room. At the time, with just Erik and me, I thought the room was so big. Five years later it is waaaayyy too small for our family of five. There isn't enough room for our muddy boots, dirty clothes, coveralls and coats, etc. I hate going into that room and not just because of the mounds of laundry that are there waiting for me on an hourly
basis. It is a constant reminder of how futile cleanliness on a farm is.
This is a picture of my dream laundry room. I dream of a laundry where I have TONS of room. My idea is that the laundry room will be the main closet for the entire house. When our kids get older, instead of me folding clothes and putting them away for them, they will be instructed to come to the laundry room to get their clothes - if they do not - oh well - the clothes will be hanging from the racks or be folded into neatly designated drawers for each person of the house. Can't find your shirt - check the laundry room.
Isn't this laundry room just lovely? This room is courtesy of Hampton Design and I have provided a link to the website here. Great job! It is just beautiful. And if anyone would like to offer to help me achieve this laundry room by building an addition onto my house, I will happily accept. : )
http://www.hamptondesign.com/built_ins5.html
How beautiful is the white farmhouse sink? I don't even have a plastic washtub in my laundry room right now. I know I shouldn't complain because I could have a room this large if I chose to move my laundry to the root cellar (basement) where it is dark,dank, and drippy! I know it is a luxury to have my laundry off the kitchen where I have easy access to it all the time, but I would love to just have a little more space! I can't even imagine what things are going to get like once the kids get older and their clothes are bigger!
Can you imagine having three whatever those are??? I'd settle for a dryer that dries faster!
Let's not even get into the futility of folding clothes, putting them away and the daily struggle that is!
Our next area of futility for me is toys. I don't know how we have accumulated so much, how it seems to multiply in the toy bins, or why my children can clean up any other place they are, but at home. I guess it could be worse - they could actually NOT play with any of their toys. But they do - all the time. They just don't put anything away in the right place, which leads to bigger and bigger messes. I have tried countless times to sort though the toys, arranged them in the appropriate bins, took pictures of the toys that belong in those bins and attached them so the kids could easily identify what goes where but they still just throw stuff into bins at random when I say clean up. Thus causing them to not know where particular items are which leads them to dump EVERY bin in the area out until they find what they were looking for.
I guess if I try to look at things in a positive light, I could interpret the scattered toys as an inexpensive home security system. This batch of toys was dumped out right on the mat at the front door. Not that anyone uses our front door -we don't have any steps or a porch leading up to our front door, so it is basically a door to nowhere. But in case someone did try to come in our front door, there is this nice mound of toys for them to have to get past.Fortunately, this mound of toys is also smack dab at the bottom of the stairs too - so it is a double whammy of deterring burglars and damaging Momma's bare feet. Nothing like a plastic farm animal to wake you up in the morning!
Well, I suppose my rant on the futility of chores around this place has been futile. In the time it took to post this, I probably could have had all of it cleaned up. I just needed to vent a bit.
And as my dear neighbor, Donna, tells me, the children will be grown up before I know it and I will miss the days of seeing these toys, mounds of laundry and crumbs on the floor.
I'm sure I will, but right now dreaming of the future is just futile.