A friend of mine and I once had a candid chat about the gritty details of our daily lives. At the time, I was a stay-at-home mom, while he held a prestigious title at a high-end advertising agency, something like “Chief of Creative Synergistic Relationships.” Curious, I asked him what that really meant.
“I manage creative synergistic relationships,” he replied with a hint of annoyance.
“What does that actually look like from 9 to 5?” I probed, speaking slowly as if he were a toddler.
“I send emails,” he said. “What about you?”
“I wipe stuff,” I answered.
Motherhood comes with various labels: homemaker, domestic engineer, working mom, full-time mom, stay-at-home mom, or work-from-home mom. Regardless of the title, if we break down the actual duties of motherhood, the most prominent task is—yep, wiping stuff.
Let’s be honest, it’s not just wiping. I also find myself scraping, scrubbing, folding, and sweeping. Ultimately, if you examine my daily activities, I might as well be called a cleaning lady. The problem? I loathe cleaning. I despise chores that need to be done over and over again, like washing dishes or doing laundry. Sometimes, while showering, I think, “Didn’t I just do this yesterday?”
When you have a baby, many things are surprising: the agony of childbirth, the financial strain of childcare, and the sheer volume of unsolicited advice about dressing your infant in 70-degree weather. But the most shocking revelation for me, one that no one prepared me for, was the exponential increase in cleaning duties. I’d say it multiplies tenfold, but I’m not sure what that’s called—dectuple?
Before kids, my husband and I treated chores as a minor inconvenience. We’d wash a couple of plates and vacuum occasionally. But post-kids? A single meal turns the kitchen into a disaster zone. After breakfast, it looks like a food fight broke out. Jam is splattered on the ceiling fan, and we use about 30 plates, four cutting boards, and 20 knives for just one meal. Grit seems to be a permanent fixture on the floor, no matter how often I sweep or vacuum.
The dirty dishes could practically be on autopilot. In those early days as a stay-at-home mom, I would tell my husband, “You know who Sisyphus’ wife was? Dishyphus. While he was out there rolling his rock, she was at home scrubbing egg residue off the frying pan.” Then, I’d often burst into tears. Eventually, my wise husband suggested we rethink our chore distribution.
Yet, even with both of us pitching in, it feels never-ending. It takes the two of us all day to keep up with the chaos our kids create. Someone enjoys cutting paper into tiny bits that are impossible to clean up. Someone else has taken to decorating the walls with marker, while another has turned our clean bed into a sandpit. And let’s not even discuss the nighttime bathroom misses—who knows, maybe that was me. The discovery of boogers on the wall was nearly my breaking point.
After a long day, my husband, too drained to wash the pots, shoves the half-empty sauce pan in the fridge, convinced he’ll eat it tomorrow—when we both know it’s just a temporary holding space for mold. Shoes and bags pile up in the hallway, an obstacle course I’ve grown tired of navigating.
When a baby is born, hospitals should hand out microfiber cloths, rags, and paper towels. Alongside lactation classes and baby bathing tutorials, a housekeeping crash course would be invaluable. “Get ready,” they should say, “Breastfeeding and diaper changes are fleeting, but cleaning? Welcome to motherhood; that’s here to stay.”
In short, motherhood involves an endless cycle of cleaning, and no one really prepares you for it. But amidst the chaos, we also find joy and laughter.
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Summary
Motherhood is often romanticized, but the reality is filled with endless cleaning and chaos that no one prepares you for. From the mess of meals to the constant cycle of chores, it can feel overwhelming. However, amidst the mess, there is joy and support available for those looking to grow their families.