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Zen housework

February 16th, 2005

Somedays the whole zen thing is not working for me. Breathe… breathe… breathe… focus on the calming effect of the sudsy dishwater as I scrub the same damn pan over and over and OVER?&!@$*! no, breathe… breathe…

how much compost can one family of four create???

No, wait, focus on the swish-a, swish-a of the washing machine, the sunlight coming through the front windows, onto the floor… the buckling floor, where the sagging beams below are sinking, it’s like a g.d. rollercoaster in here. Must call contractor, goddammit, how much is this going to cost? Re-fi house. Again.

when am i supposed to clean the unpaid-for house? The in-laws are getting here Saturday. But not ’til dinnertime. Saturday morning? After we’ve been up late the night before at the school carnival? In between music class (10-11 a.m.) and dance (noon-1 p.m.)? What happened to easy-going Saturdays? Sleeping in, going for a walk. Must walk the dog so he doesn’t chew up furniture. Goofyass anxious obsessive-compulsive dog. Too bad he doesn’t clean, it’d give him a place to throw all that manic energy. Put him outside, he chews the exterior of the house. Leave him inside, he chews up the woodwork. Chewing up the scenery like a bad actor.

No, wait — look at the bright yellow, neatly-aligned recycling bins out front… ah, breathe, breathe.

Today is cool, but yesterday — tough. Too much PTA stuff, back breaking, kids screaming. Most people get a wake-up call (at their hotel, or from the alarm clock) at 6:30 a.m. Mine arrived at 6:30 p.m., when my daughter walked into the office, where I was trying to wrap up my end of the loose ends for the carnival. She was munching on a half-empty container of mac and cheese.

She announced: “So. I guess I’ll eat this for dinner!”

Mommy guilt. But she wasn’t mad, or starving to death. Just making a statement. And feeding herself. Wait! This is the first time she’s ever done this. It’s kinda cool, that she’s getting self-reliant. And she’ll love the carnival, it’ll be a blast.

My husband made some soup and Texas burgers (have u had them? very good. They taste like genuine barbecue, sans meat) when he got home, I wrapped up my loose ends, everyone had dinner together (a little late, but whatever) and all was well. Peaceful, really.

And all that “zen” carried over to… right now.


  1. Mama Em says

    Your daughter is so cool, she would have scared the crap out of me when I was in grade school. I was so timid and mousy and afraid that deep down, nobody liked me.

    I wonder where would she come by such a forceful personality? (wink, wink)

    “She announced: “So. I guess I’ll eat this for dinner!”

    Wow. What are you going to do closer to the 11-15 age bracket? Those could be some stormy years. But you’ll get through them, and she is going to be one powerhouse adult.

    And we’ll be here for you to vent to. I promise.

    February 17th, 2005 | #

  2. Mama Em says

    Would you please share that Texas burger recipe, please, ma’am?

    February 17th, 2005 | #

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