I always assume Emmy is critical of me. I don’t know why. She has never said anything negative about my parenting or housekeeping, but in my mind I see all that I’m failing to do, assume she sees it too, and think (in an evil voice in my head) “She’ll understand some day…”
This is ridiculous, of course. I’m putting thoughts in her head based on my own insecurities and driving myself crazy in the process.
Take the laundry. I have a very hard time keeping up with it. For the most part, we have enough clothes to make do. But every once in a while the girls run out of underwear and Chip runs out of socks. Obviously the solution here is to
do more laundry buy more underwear for the girls and socks for Chip. For whatever reason, though, I haven’t gotten around to doing this, so I’m constantly digging stuff out of the bottom of the laundry basket to throw in their drawers. Sometimes I come home from work to find Chip in a pair of his sister’s socks or the girls come home from school in the same underwear from the day before.
Now, Emmy has never commented on this. But in my mind, I’m a huge failure and she obviously thinks I’m an unorganized slob.
Yesterday we were talking after I got home and she said she had to go home and do laundry. Emmy got married in May and they don’t have kids yet, so it is just her and her husband. Her eyes got really big and she started complaining about how it never ends. I could be really sarcastic here, what with it only being two adults who never spill/pee/poop/stain their garments, but then I remember back in the day when John and I were childless and man, I was overwhelmed by the laundry back then. We didn’t know how good we had it. We were young and had no idea the drudgery involved in daily life. Anyways, Emmy went on a bit and then looked at me and said “I don’t know how you do it.”
I can’t tell you how much those seven words meant to me.