My mother’s pet peeve was her house being dirty, especially dishes dishes in her sink. Oh, she HATED that! I didn’t understand why she hated it until I became a mother…
It was never about the dishes. It’s never about the dishes. It’s about respect, time and energy. The plenty of it and the desire for more of it.
My mother was married, worked, went to school and had three children. She was constantly being pulled and poured out into everyone that needed her.
It wasn’t that the place where we lived was constantly in squalor, she needed something she didn’t have to control. Something else she wasn’t expected to handle.
I get it now. I give to people constantly. My job. My husband. My children. My immediate family.
I constantly am expected to gift and give and not think I need more than the joy of having spent myself for the greater of other people.
And I come home to laundry, vacuuming to do…and dishes. I fuss because it’s another thing I have to handle…and I don’t always want to be the one to handle and do and save the day.
I deserve to have my thoughts heard and ask for help. It’s not always up to me and I am more than a work ethic and suppression. I deserve help and safety too. I’m learning that slamming my way through chores helps nothing. What does is when I set expectations for myself and the people around me.
From that, I create accountability and consequences. I don’t put my power in the hands of other people. When you do that, other people the. Control how you respond, and its intensity.
It’s never about the dishes, even when it’s the dishes…