Personal Struggles and Household Chores

Early on in my childhood, back in the sixties, I struggled hard against what I saw as a sexist division of chores. 
"Why do I ... ?"
"Why can't I ... ?

"This is stupid!"

Why oh why, would I want to be stuck inside, washing dishes, cooking, vacuuming or dusting? And then, there was a brief moment in my early adolescence, where my Dad allowed me to help/observe, while he worked on the family vehicles and when he helped (I mostly observed tbh) me to make a small foot stool. Which is probably one of the reasons, besides the folks being so done with parenting, I never learned to do laundry. Sorry about those sacrificed shirts, N. 

When I landed my first job at Sizzler, the struggle began again. I did manage to push all the way into my assistant manager training, but then the owners pulled the rug out from under me--saying I could only complete my training by learning to cook and manage the grill ... but not allowing me to use the grill. So I soon skedaddled. I heard, years later, from a younger co-worker, that she decided to pick up where I was left stranded, and was able to become an assistant manager. While I was happy for her, I was disappointed. Guess I was a few years too soon. 

When N and I, joined forces, that old struggle was still niggling at me. The day, I replaced a burnt out blinker bulb, with the incorrect bulb, and the brake lights went goofy on a long trip, was a moment. And when I tried to move a large, rolled rug by myself, and N came home to find me on the floor, unable to get my back muscles to cooperate, was another. I backed way off, until one summer, when our offspring were older, I decided I'd be doing N a favor, by mowing the lawn, every week. I mean ... I had summers off, so I wanted to gift him some free time.

His reaction confused me, until he spelled it out--I wasn't "giving" him free time, I was "taking" something away from him. Something he felt defined him. Once I could turn it around in my head, and see it from a different perspective, it became clear. Maybe my personal struggle was more about finding my place in the world, and then I didn't know when to quit? Or perhaps I was so deep into my own feelings and ideas, that I failed to watch and listen? Or maybe it took me that frigging long to grow up. Yeah ... maybe that.

Love, K