I cannot decide whether to weep, laugh or cry

I went to visit my friend whom I hadn’t seen in ages. I was dismayed to see that she had become an absolute domestic goddess.

*  *  *

I struggle with the domestic part of being a mom and wife. I may not totally suck at both but I am most certainly kind of domestically challenged. I might not be the queen of idlers but I am not so blessed.

*  *  *

My friend’s kids were spick and span. The wooden floors gleamed. There were mouthwatering baking and cooking smells wafting from the kitchen. There were fresh flowers in the lounge tastefully arranged. She was immaculate and did not look she had done anything at all.

*  *  *

I absolutely hate wooden floors; they have a tendency to get water stains and never gleam for long. My kids generally have stained edges. Flowers do not fare well even tacky plastic ones. cooking and baking and a clean house? Not likely.

*  *  *

I have never liked housework and I only clean because I can’t stand the dirt. Chaos reign well and truly in my home. I clean and an hour later it looks as though a bomb has gone of in the vicinity of my house. During weekends when they do not have to go to school, the kids are clean for like five minutes after they have taken a bath before they start looking like they intentionally had mud baths. I do not have the heart to stop their frolicking in the mud, making mud pies and all associated activities which might or might not include brawling.

*  *  *

I love baking and when the mood strikes me I can bake a mean souffle. But swamped as I am with all the domesticity that does sometime define my life I feel less inclined and charitable enough to whip up interesting deserts. Domestic goddesses like Martha Stewart and Bree Van de Kamp make me feel bad. They are well turned out all the time. They can get red wine stains out of anything. They can fold fitted sheets all the time. I mean seriously! I end up just stuffing them in the linen cupboard rolled up before I can strangle myself in frustration.

I watched Niegella Lawson’s show and almost cried. She makes everything look so effortless. Nothing seems to faze her and life’s little horrors never seem to happen to her. Impossibly high standards.

*  *  *

I am a working mother. Not an excuse but some of motherly duties are going to suck. As are some of my wifely duties. I come from work knackered and just want to slob around for a minute or thirty and those goddesses drive my tired being from the sofa to drag myself around the house putting it to rights hoping I will get round to having some me time as soon as the kids are in bed. My life is difficult enough without being told how to be a goddess and made to feel worthless and inadequate.

*  *  *

No matter what I will still absolutely hate doing laundry.

I still hate cooking.

I will not watch cooking shows.

I will not listen to domestic goddesses especially if they are my friends.

I am not a domestic goddess and will never be and that’s okay.


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