Ever since we got news that we will be in US for a few years, I felt life was happening to us in the best possible way. I mean, I really thank God for how He's blessed us (and me) in so many ways and this stint is really the cherry on top.
I get to be a tai-tai (reality-check: housewife), get a monthly allowance, enjoy a new country, "travel" when the world is tiding through Covid and borders are mostly closed, if not restricted. House paid for, kids' education paid for, we earn from renting out our Sg home. Really nothing more I can ask for.
Yet I have bouts of unhappiness every other month. Over?
Housework.
I felt shame as I typed this. Cos Clem and the kids do chip in.
The kids roster to do and dry dishes after dinner (we don't use the dishwasher... we're Asians!), wipe down the table and placemats, stove and oven. Cavan will mop the floor on regular days. They also take turns to load the laundry, transfer to dryer, fold and distribute. The kids clean their own rooms and take the trash out. Clem cleans all 5 bathrooms, vacuums and mops.
So what am I unhappy over? Every other thing I'm picking up after.
I question myself, if I love my family, why can't I be happy making the house clean and beautiful? I tried to talk myself into accepting that I SHOULD do all these because I love my family and WANT to do it for them.
But I deceive myself. I end up grouchy and have occasional outbursts. Poor Clem is on the receiving end.
Why don't you just tell me what you need help with? Clem asked.
Why must I ask? And why is it "helping me"? Isn't it everyone's responsibility? Everyone should take ownership, not just me! I reasoned.
Clem persisted, just tell us what you want us to do instead of keeping it all inside and be unhappy!
I don't want be the one with the mental load. Do A, do B, do C. I want everyone to take the responsibility and initiative. It's very tiring to tell people what to do all the time.
I just want the house clean and tidy. That's all I ask!
So there you have it - my vision statement.
How clever! I thought to myself. I should have thought about this and declare it from the beginning. It's very clear and measurable.
Clem understood and I overheard him a few days later, saying this to the kids while telling them to clean up - mommy wants the house clean and tidy! Do your part! He barked.
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But coming back to the complaints... I still feel unsettled why I am dissatisfied with this. Why can't I be happy doing all these?
Am I a feminist?
Am I seeking equity? That it's not purely a woman's/ mother's/ wife's job?
Am I petty and self-centred?
The Bible says whatever I do, work at it with all my heart, as working for the Lord, not for men. (Colossians 3:23)
As I reflect, I realise it could be because I struggle with my identity. I'm no longer a working woman contributing my strengths to what I love doing at work. I'm no longer interacting with other people in ways that develop and nurture one another. I'm no longer working towards goals and deadlines.
In other words, I lost my sense of purpose.
I need an extension of myself in a non-domestic way, as I've never defined myself in the home.
Verity ever asked, 3 months after we were here - am I happy not working? Do I enjoy it?
Well, it's a good break for me and I try to embrace it. But obviously not for long, as seen from my periodic outbursts (maybe it's the monthly period. Now I have something to blame.)
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Lately, I've been very happy. Cos Clem is picking up the cues and the nitty-gritty bits around the house.
Oh, could it be because my top love language is Acts of Service?
I feel loved when someone does something for me. Conversely, if people don't do the chores without being asked, I feel unloved?
Seems very likely.
