Sometimes I envy my husband.
I was talking to him last night about how I sometimes feel it would be so nice to have a job where you leave the house in the morning, work really hard, and then at the end of the day you leave and get to have some sort of feeling of accomplishment.
As a mother, I don't often get to feel that sense of "closure" or accomplishment after a long day of hard work.
A hard day of work for me never really has a 'resolve' at the end of it. It just blends into the next day of the same. I feel like all day long I am cleaning and tidying and feeding and cleaning and tidying and feeding, and then at the end of the day, after everyone is cleaned and fed and asleep, the house needs to be cleaned and picked up one last time and then it's time for bed.
Nothing I do with my hands during the day "sticks". I do everything that I do knowing that it will need to be done again in an hour or two.
Clean clean clean clean tidy clean tidy. Never ending. Never resolving. Never feeling like it's really accomplished because it doesn't last.
I am thankful to be home with my kids. So very thankful. There is nothing else I'd rather be doing and no one else I'd rather have raising my kids for me.
But on some days, like yesterday, I just feel worn out and bone tired. Yesterday I looked around and felt totally smothered by my house and the endless job of keeping it nice, and it was turning me into a RAGE monster. The monster was just below the surface-- threatening to squeeze out through my tear ducts.
Chris could tell that I was on the verge, and that I was so worked up that nothing I was doing was helping my situation (i.e. trying to clean the floors while the baby was still eating and throwing goo on top of the floors I had JUST cleaned) so do you know what he did? (Men of the world, TAKE NOTE.) He forced me to go take a bath and relax and breathe for a moment. While I was doing that, he bleached and scrubbed the kitchen floors for me. Oh yes he did.
By the time I got out of the bath, my head was on straight again. I had gotten a chance to breathe. The rest of the day, we worked together on the house- happily, CHEERFULLY... side by side. And by the time evening rolled around, it looked AMAZING.
At the end of the day, it wasn't so much the fact that he had helped clean and grocery shop and all that. It was more the fact that he helped me get to a place of feeling like I'd accomplished something. He could tell that's what I needed (before I even knew it) and he gave me the boost I needed to get me there. And I know that the house will probably look much like it did early yesterday in, oh, about 29 seconds flat, but you know what? Today, I am okay with that.
Because I was reminded that it isn't so much about WHAT gets done at the end of the day as it is about WHO you do those things for.
I keep the house nice because it blesses my husband and my kids. And they in turn work hard and bless me in their own sweet ways. We're all working hard together for a purpose.
And suddenly, cleaning the floors doesn't feel like my own personal purgatory anymore. It feels almost noble. Like it's the most important job in the world.
All because of who I am doing it for.