I've long given up on equality in the housework stakes. There were a few things working against me:
1. It appears LOML is 10 times more helpful with tsunami-minding than most husbands. So even though I used to go beserk because he was suspiciously absent during housework moments, he would be praised endlessly by women at BBQs. "You do so much to help with the children," they would croon as LOML bounced 25 children on the family trampoline. "I wish my husband did a tenth of what you do," they would beam. So, of course, fearful that LOML would ditch me for a more grateful, more croony woman, I stopped nagging about the housework. Just joking. What really happened was that he decided the most helpful thing to do would be to take the kids to the park and let me slave on with the housework in peace. Which is lovely... but, you know, still slavey.
2. About 12 years ago, I fell for the classic male trick of 'under-cleaning'. As soon as you find yourself frantically cleaning up two minutes after the male cleaner has done his thing, stop immediately. They are doing it on purpose. See, eventually you'll crack and scream "for the love of god, how hard is it to wipe your own feet before you mop the kitchen floor?!" Bang, they've got you. You only need to do this once and you can never, ever take it back. Years and years later they will say "You know I'd love to help you with the cleaning, but you know how you get. Remember that time in 1998? Remember?"
3. My favourite: you're manically flicking about with your dust cloth between folding 10 baskets of clothes (I know, only 10 - it was the 5th wash this week), replacing the 27th texta lid on the 27th naked texta and signing your 8th Family Assistance Office Childcare Tax Benefit form and they swan in and say "oh honey, just leave it". Just leave it? Just. leave. it? For whom, exactly?
Anyway, this rant isn't actually supposed to be about the inequality of housework. It's acutally about a far more insidious domestic imbalance.
Domestic Thought.
The holder of Domestic Thought is almost invariably a woman. And it's killing us slowly.
Tomorrow's yellow t-shirt safety day at school for Maxi-Taxi - note to self: yellow t-shirt. Tomorrow. Child A. Must take $2 fine for imposed mufti. Iron jeans to wear with yellow t-shirt. Ask about safety when child returns from school. Prepare for lecture on how to cross the road safely.
Saturday is X's birthday party - note to self: get present. Not too cheap. Maybe something expensive looking, but on sale. Kid likes Hannah Montana. Don't buy Hannah Montana. Get something educational. Must wrap present. Find card. Get address. Do the RSVP. Check directory to find out where house is. Take Child B to party at 2, picking up X and Y on the way from Z, M's mother will bring Child B home after she drops off R at P and Q at R.
Aunt's birthday coming up. Soccer fundraiser. Need toilet paper. When do classes start? P&C meeting on Tuesday. Take cupcakes to childcare on Monday. Fertilise plants. Check that parenting class for anxious types. Get some string to tie up the orange tree. Picnic for Sunday. RSVP yes to D for BBQ on the 22nd. When should we start toilet training The Badoo? Buy groceries. Get the BrollySheets back to arm ourselves against Maxi-Taxi. Childcare arrangements for term 2 holidays. What's for dinner? Tonight? Tomorrow night? For the next 1,026 nights? Lunch? Breakfast? Snacks?
Think about all the things you think about.
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I rewound this post on 27.11.10
