Routine? No, thank you

Normal is a term that’s clearly missing in my journey as a mother. It’s more like a random mix of chaotic, panicky, breakdown-and-rise-again, stressful and hormonal.

I have regularly tried and failed in bringing some order in my housework but failed miserably. I read on some other mommy blog how someone managed to “find free time” by following a daily routine. I decided to follow and tried this. Mondays were to be my laundry day. Tuesdays for finishing the laundry (folding etc) and start kitchen maintenance. Wednesdays and Thursdays were to accomplish baby food cooking, refrigerating them and chopping all vegetables for the week. Fridays to stock the grocery or running household errands. And weekends strictly for rest and recreation, no housework whatsoever. Mind you, all this had to be accomplished around boi’s activities and daily duties.  

I tried to follow this schedule in the last 6 days. I really did.

Reality? I am writing this blog post even as an overflowing laundry hamper awaits its turn in the machine, boi’s milk bottles in the kitchen sink need cleaning, vegetables are no where near the chopping board, instead will be boiled & eaten with lentils, and a pile of clothes that has to be folded. Kitchen is begging for some maintenance and grocery supplies are near zero. There are suitcases on guest bedroom floor which I have been meaning to unpack since we came back from India, 3 months ago.

There was a beginning and an end to the things I did at work before motherhood happened to me. Today it’s an endless circle of chores.

I oscillate between Stay-At-Home-Mom (SAHM) and Work-From-Home-Mom (WFHM) on days. Why? I eventually figured out that staying home in the traditional sense just wasn’t for me, and focused on ramping up my working-from-home efforts. Point is, I think, some of the problems as a SAHM can only be “solved” by letting go of my pre-baby expectations of what staying home would be like and what I’m realistically capable of. Reality is that it is very very tough to let go.

PS: It’s hard to miss the look of wonder on my spouse’s face (days I am a SAHM) when he no longer enters a spotless house with warm home-cooked meals on the table and that I ain’t narrating him the plot of my next novel that I conceptualized in “spare” time. Yeah.  


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