Listen. Before you get all panicked that this is another one of those articles that tells you to ignore the dishes until tomorrow because babies grow up to our sorrow let me reassure you: it’s not. It’s instead a breath for those who feel just a bit of guilt.
Do the dishes. Please.
Because even though babies grow up it’s best if they grow up when the dishes are done.
And don’t feel [guilty] about doing those dishes.
You’re teaching kids that dishes are a fact of life. You eat, you make a mess, you clean up.
Sometimes I think those articles that tell us to savor the moment miss that sometimes savoring the moment is WAY more enjoyable and easy to do when there isn’t a big pile of dishes staring us down as the food dries on it.
I’ve fought that part of me for a long time thinking that there was something wrong with me. I wanted to be the mom [who] ignored the dishes or the laundry or the to-do list, but truthfully, I wasn’t. And then, then because of all the poems and Pinterest pins and blog posts about how motherhood is short and we need to savor it filed my stream then I’d end up feeling [guilty] because there I was, scrubbing off dried macaroni and cheese that had turned to glue on the plate versus reading a book.
But friends, again, I really, really struggle with reading that book when that pile of dishes is looming in the background. Like struggle. Like I’m the mom that will play with the kids but end up sorting the toys and making playing cleaning instead of playing. It’s about finding YOUR balance.
So I’m writing to you moms a word of permission.
Do the dishes.
You are not a bad mom if you’re not sitting there savoring every single moment.
Work must be done. We can’t live in disarray. Or, at least, my personality struggles there. And it, again, is teaching our kids the value of order, chores, responsibility, and stewardship when we take care of things around us. And you know what? Doing the dishes might be important for you but not for someone else. But I feel like I just want there to be that permission, in a world screaming at us to savor every second, that doing the dishes or the laundry or all of that stuff is still good. It’s mothering. It’s life.