Sunday, August 29, 2010

Not good enough to help

When I was growing up, one of the stories my mother told me was about my grandmother's childhood. When my grandmother tried to fold laundry, she didn't do it right. Her mother told her she couldn't fold laundry, and the mother might as well do it herself. When my grandmother tried to clean her room, she didn't do it right. Her mother told her she couldn't fold laundry, and the mother might as well do it herself.

When my grandmother had children of her own, she was an extremely poor housekeeper. My mother has strong memories of not being able to have friends over because they couldn't stand the dust. My mother also remembers the regret my great-grandmother expresses over her impatience with my grandmother. It was very important to my mother that she walk a middle path: clean enough for company, but standards at a place where my sister and I were capable of meeting them. She did not want to make the mistakes of her mother or grandmother.

Another story my mother told was of trying to get my father to help with household chores. He tried to do the dishes, but he put them away in the wrong place, so my mother might as well do all the dishes herself. He tried to cook dinner, but he didn't have the side dishes ready at the same time as the main dish, so she might as well cook dinner herself.

I think I have avoided that particular mistake of my mother's (I think it's cute when I can't find a dish because my husband found a better place for it). Seeing how hard she tried to avoid it, though, and still fell into that trap, makes me wonder what habits I have that I am too blind to see.