When I was Spencer's age, I helped around the house. I remember helping to do trash collection, and even have a memory of making pancakes.
When I was Henry's age, there are incriminating photos of me washing dishes topless. I helped around the house.
My children have certain chores. They do, really. Cleaning toys, helping clear their own dishes, feeding the dog, etc.
But when I was looking at the state of my house recently, about to tackle the ridiculously messy square-footage when I realized I hadn't made the mess. So why in the world should I clean it up?
Thus the new regime began. My children are perfectly capable of putting their laundry away. They can empty much/most of the dishwasher. They can wipe counter tops and scrub toilets, they can shine windows. My children (even Oliver) can be of assistance!
FABULOUS! They weren't too thrilled but I don't care.
I have a dream. That dream is that my daughters-in-law will worship at my feet because I raised their husbands. Their husbands who know how to wield a broom, run a dust cloth and vacuum like it's their job.
We are well on our way!
|From June 2011|