The Metronome of the Home

When I think back on my childhood, so many of my memories are foggy. Some I'm not even sure if I remember for having experienced them or because I've seen pictures or been told they happened. One silly memory that clearly sticks out in my mind though, is that whenever my parents, sisters, and I would be heading out for a family outing to the beach, for a hike, or to the mall food court (obviously the best choice for a family who could take hours to come to a consensus on a restaurant), it seemed my mom would always be rushing around until the very last second doing chores. She'd often start a load of laundry in the garage as we all sat in the car watching her and waiting with the engine running, annoyed and wondering why she was taking so long and preventing the rest of us from leaving on the much anticipated adventure. "Seriously?" I'd say to my sisters, "Can't the laundry just wait?" "Those Hackett's definitely have some OCD tendencies," I'd tell myself. "This is the same woman who has to have vacuum lines in the carpet before guests arrive." (Love you mom!)

Well, I'm now a mother of five myself and have been blessed like my mother before me to be able to make the choice to stay home with my children full time and take on a large share of the household duties while my husband works away from home earning income to support our family. I've recently been haunted by the memory of my annoyance, sometimes verbally expressed, that my mom always had to start that one extra load of laundry. In fact, I now consistently start a load or move laundry to the dryer after buckling my kids in the car to go somewhere. Why? Because I know that if I don't start that laundry before we leave and are gone for two hours, it won't be done in time for me to move it to the dryer before bedtime, and my potty training toddler won't have any underwear to put on the next day and I also won't have any pants to wear because well, I only own one pair of jeans that fit and I decided they'd hit their max wear-time at three weeks without washing. No one else in our family thinks of these things. I also sometimes buckle the kids in and run back inside to wipe the kitchen counters and do a one minute pick-up of the kitchen and living room. If I don't do it then, when we get back and unload all our junk from the car and I have to start dinner, the stuff will accumulate in those rooms exponentially and it will be more of a battle to clean before bedtime. The kids aren't thinking ahead that far. Yes, I am now my mother. It never ceases to amaze me how previous ways of thinking come back to haunt us.

This laundry lesson has caused my to reflect on so many other things my mom did that went unnoticed or unappreciated; things she did that I actually rolled my eyes at that I definitely should have been thanking her for. I recently listened to part of an NPR series about the people who fill every day jobs that go largely unnoticed, jobs that we may never even think about because they're largely invisible like the night shift janitor at the building where we work. It's so easy to take the fact that something is done for us for granted when we don't see or don't notice the person who does it for us. It can be easy for a full time homemaker to fall into that category. There are probably plenty of husbands and children who don't notice clean clothes being put into their drawers every few days until the one day the laundry doesn't get done and they can't find what they're looking for. Or the fact that the refrigerator and cupboard are always stocked with each family member's favorites. Not only are the dishes done after every meal, but the counters are wiped and the sink and faucet cleaned too. The odds and ends left in random corners around the house at the end of the day end up in the right room for each child to put away in the morning. The backpacks are sorted through, old granola bar wrappers thrown away, and special notes from best friends put into the keepsake box.

Often it is the mother who keeps the rhythm of the home moving along, steadily plotting forward. Maybe she loses her temper every once in a while, a loud crescendo that everyone takes notice of, or maybe she weeps quietly in bed at the end of particularly challenging parenting day, a moving adagio to which her husband reacts in love. A happy staccato of mother and children laughing together in the backyard is memorable. But the steady, rhythmic beat of her footsteps through the house completing seemingly mundane, daily tasks is really what holds the family together. It is a testament to her dedication to those she loves.

 If you're married to one of these women, who like my mother, is the metronome of daily living for your home, thank her. Thank her by noticing what she does, especially the small things that, yes, anyone can do, but she has chosen to do for you and your children as an act of love. She's probably very intelligent, likely has a college education, and certainly has ambitions, many of which she has put on hold for a season because she felt an overwhelming desire to fully dedicate this season to home. And to all you working mothers who still do the bulk of those invisible jobs at home like laundry and cleaning: I am in awe. I write from my own experience outside of the labor force, but I admire and learn so much from your ability to balance two lives with such grace.

And back to the husbands, in case you don't instinctively do it already, follow the example of my wonderful mate: When you're home, share equally in the task of taking care of the home and children. Don't ask what needs to be done. If the rug looks dirty and you have a minute, pull out the vacuum and get started. A big thank you to my father-in-law who set that example beautifully to his children.

If you, dear reader, haven't thanked your own mother recently for all she did, and likely still does, for you, tell her, call her, or better yet, write her a note that she can keep forever and read again later. Thank her especially for the small things, that yes, anyone can do, but she did for you, her child, as an act of love.

And finally, if you're that mother who is sometimes overwhelmed with the mountains of laundry and towers of dirty dishes, who wants to sleep in instead of make school lunches, or who would love to for once finish cleaning up a meal before the children start asking for their next snack; a woman who feels unappreciated for all you do day in and day out for those you love; remember, you can choose to do it for them, as an act of love.

Teach your children to recognize everything you do for them, teach them to do chores, wash dishes, and put away their own laundry. The more they thank you for your service and the more they do for themselves, the more they'll recognize and thank others in the world who serve them like teachers, bus drivers, firefighers, policeman, librarians, food servers, salespeople, and on and on. And the more they'll want to serve others, the ultimate goal.

I have found, however, that although it's wonderful to be appreciated, and especially to be explicitly thanked, there is something very special about simply knowing within that you, Mother, are the metronome of the home, keeping things moving forward with the steady pace of your footsteps from room to room in service to those you love. Treasure that role as one of many; find joy in it. Even if they complain when you stop to throw in one last load of laundry before you get in the car to drive them to the mall food court.

"But so shall it not be among you:

but whosoever will be great among you, shall be your minister:

And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be the servant of all.

For ever the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, 

and to give his life a ransom for many."

Mark 10:43-45