The Weight of My Household

I've come to the very huge and humbling realization that I am, despite my efforts to deny it, a control freak. Which really shouldn't be a surprise at all, considering that I am a lifelong, card-carrying member of the "If-it's-gonna-be-done-right-I-gotta-do-it" club. I don't like to ask for help, and certain things need to be done a certain way (mine), therefore I end up taking on much more responsibility than I probably need to. Household chores are a prime example of both my need for control and the minor case of OCD that I possess. 

My life is like that book, "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie." In the book, the mouse asks a boy for a cookie, which leads to asking for milk, and a straw, then a napkin, then a mirror so the mouse can check for a milk mustache, and he realizes he needs to get his hair cut... and on and on. I think you get the idea. I don't like to ask for help. In essence, I'm playing out the Give a Mouse a Cookie book, except I'm the only character. I'm asking and responding to myself. Here's a typical evening for me: I try to start dinner, except there are too many dishes in the way, so I empty the dishwasher and put away those dishes so I can put the dirty ones in. I get dinner in/on the oven/stove, but first, I have to wipe down all the counters and stovetop because there's water/crumbs/juice stains. As I'm making dinner, I splatter something on my shirt, so I change and get a basket of dirty laundry and bring it to the basement to put it in the washing machine. If there's clothes in the dryer, I bring them upstairs, check dinner on my way through the kitchen, then fold what laundry I can before feeding my family. And I usually do all this in a span of about 30-45 minutes! Mind you, I live with 4 other people. But I do it all, because I don't like to ask for help, and I feel better if it's done my way. 

Unfortunately, my demand for control enables and allows the other members of my household to be a little lazy. I'm pretty sure they all full-well know that if an object sits out of its place long enough, Mom will take care of it. Put away my clothes? Nah, Mama will do it when she gets tired of looking at them on the chair. Bring my toys to my room? Nah, Mama will think they're in the way and move them for me. I haven't yet decided if these types of thoughts are completely intentional by my family, but subconsciously, I'm teaching this to them. 

My youngest is 7, and he is, always has been and always will be the definition of Tenacious. And Independent. He is another "Gotta do it myself" kind of person. Which is great, unless you're the parent of a tenacious, independent child, who also happens to possess many of the same qualities. I am forced, on a daily basis, to move out of the way and let him do things the way he wants to do them. Which is difficult for me. But what's the alternative? Teach my child that he can't do anything correctly and that his mother is a crazy psychotic Nazi of a control freak? No thank you. I'll bite my lip as hard as I need to, and supervise him while he's figuring things out for himself. Even if that means sending my OCD into a tailspin. I can ignore the mental screams of "OH MY GOD, HE'S NOT DOING IT MY WAY!!!" when I need to.

For the past 3 years, I was a salesperson, which meant that I spent the majority of each day, 5 days a week, talking to people. And I like talking to people. My daughter is in Girl Scouts, and therefore year after year she sells Girl Scout cookies. (Anyone see where this is going?) My daughter is 9, so she can't exactly hoof it around the neighborhood after school by herself, soliciting to a bunch of strangers. I'm happy to bring her to where she wants to go- to see family members, neighbors, friends, businesses, etc., and supervise the progress of her sales efforts. This year, especially, I've been getting the stink eye a little more often, and have to constantly remind myself to shut up, and that I am not the one selling cookies. I tell her over and over that she has to be the one to talk, then when we walk in, guess who speaks first? Outgoing, friendly, chatty Mama. She has a goal to make, and I like for her to make said goal, so I do what I can to "help." Except sometimes my way of helping doesn't actually help. I have to, again, bite my lip and step back, while I let my shy but eager child take the spotlight. I'll admit, this is not always easy for me. But, just like with her younger brother, I want her to learn that she has the capability to do things on her own and do things correctly in her own way. 

The weight of the world does not need to be taken upon my shoulders. Neither does the weight of my household. My family is capable of doing chores, regardless of how much they enjoy them or not. I may need to point out the obvious to them, like "How about instead of smushing the garbage further down into the can, you empty it out?" Or, "Oh, you ran out of underwear? How about you bring your laundry downstairs to me so I can wash it?" Small price to pay in the grand scheme of teaching my kids how to think and do for themselves, and in teaching me how to let them. Control is a tricky demon, making us believe that we need to keep it close for things to go right. Once we can learn to loosen our grip, it becomes easier to let others grab the reigns. It even feels good sometimes to throw our hands up in the air, completely free of responsibility and worry. And it feels downright wonderful to watch as my children take the lead, and complete tasks in an acceptable and productive manner. It feels wonderful knowing that I helped them get there. All I had to do was let go.