"Do it again!": On the Apparent Futility of Housework

The books are on the floor AGAIN.

There is a great satisfaction to offering our work to God and doing that work well, especially when we have the opportunity to hold in our hands the nicely painted piece of art, the well-written essay, the beautifully crocheted blanket, or the finely built table. Even without the attention and compliments of others, the material evidence of our time and efforts makes the work we put into a project rewarding. It tends toward a natural sort of contentment when we see the results of our work and know we can enjoy it for days, months, or even years to come.

Not every task offers us such a natural enjoyment and satisfaction of a long-lasting job well done, however. As parents, there is always plenty of housework, yard work, fix-up tasks, and household organization. Young children are often messy and sometimes careless, and even with our best efforts to teach children to clean up after themselves and participate in household chores, we parents will find ourselves immersed in a constant battle to keep our living environment under control!

Granted, maintaining a household well can indeed provide a certain amount of satisfaction. It is nice to see a sparkling, freshly-mopped kitchen floor, accompanied by gleaming counters and shiny appliances. It is lovely to survey a well-organized, picked up, dusted, and vacuumed living room. It can be a relief to organize hand-me-downs in labeled boxes and switch over clothes for winter.

And yet, we know from experience that such contentment is short-lived. The grass keeps growing, the rocking chair keeps breaking, tub scum comes back, the baby pulls the books off the living room shelving, and the kids inevitably spill smoothies on the freshly mopped floor. The laundry is never done. In moments of discouragement in our lives as parents, we may be tempted to see such work as completely pointless and worthless. And it doesn’t help that these kinds of domestic tasks are not valued in our society. When we could be producing something beautiful and meaningful, who wants to devote time to work like wiping down the refrigerator shelves or picking up shoes?

It is precisely this apparent futility of housework that makes it so valuable as a parenting mortification. The lack of natural satisfaction, due to the temporary results of our work, becomes a challenge we can embrace to die to ourselves and grow closer to God. As adults, we can have great control over our living environment. But as adults with other people (who happen to be young children!), we will not have complete control. We never know when we might walk into a bathroom to find the sink has been “painted” with toothpaste by a toddler. Much of the housework we do is simply to restore the house to the state it would be in if we didn’t have children!

From a supernatural perspective, the gift of this seeming wasted work of domestic life is twofold: it teaches us detachment, and it increases our appreciation for the supernatural reward of our labors.

We have probably all had the experience of being proud of our hard work and not wanting to let go of it. The reality of housework is that we must humble ourselves, so that we are constantly letting go of it, or else we risk being constantly angry with those little people who thoughtlessly destroy our hard work. There is nothing wrong with reminders to our children that we have worked hard to do some chore; we want them to recognize that the laundry does not do itself, the dishes do not clean themselves, the shoes do not magically walk over to their assigned boxes, and the sand toys do not find their way home to the sandbox of their own accord. We also want them to participate in household chores so that they recognize that running the home is about teamwork. The home is not merely a place for mindless consumption of others’ work, but rather a place where all members produce, contributing to the good of the household.

But at the same time, we must recognize that there will be more ironing, there will be more smudges on the windows, there will be more leaves in the yard, etc. Why should we constantly expect material affirmation for our efforts? What good does such attachment to the results of our work do for us spiritually? It is better, rather, that we embrace the fact of the ephemeral nature of the results of our work, becoming detached from the clean floors and folded laundry in a way that opens us to become better attached to that which is eternal, namely God.

Such detachment should not lead us to neglect the necessary tasks of running a household, but rather to keep them in perspective.  We sort through socks not so that they can stand enshrined in a drawer as a monument to our work, but rather, so that we can serve our family and offer that work to God. We scrub the slow cooker crock clean not so that we can display it to the world as a feat of our elbow grease, but so that we can earn treasure in heaven. In other words, the apparent futility of housework does not have to be futility; rather it can assist us, hastening us in our way to God.

Yes, it is understandably frustrating to see the newly-mopped floor covered in muddy footprints. We may get angry when a child pulls every shirt out of a full, well-organized drawer. But again, while we want children to be considerate of others’ efforts and we may lose time in having to redo tasks that we’ve just completed, the repetition of housework has great possibility as a mortification. We can almost hear God kindly but enthusiastically encouraging us, “Do it again!” the way that a child might ask us to read the same book over and over. And each time we “do it again” we can do it better, and by that, I do not mean simply perfecting our natural skills, but, more importantly, perfecting our supernatural skills. We can die to self each time we “do it again.” We can offer it as prayer each time we “do it again.” We can grow closer to God each time we “do it again.” We can build up treasure in heaven each time we “do it again.”

This work may seem menial and discouraging in the context of a busy household. But it is not so in God’s eyes. He invites us to “do it again” each day because He recognizes its potential for our good. If we also can humbly recognize that potential, we will “do it again,” better each time!

On Diapers and Potty-Training

Here's a new dad, with a diaper change gone wrong.
It was not the last time he'd have an up close and personal poop encounter.

Parenting gives us the opportunity to do many things we would not otherwise choose to do. Changing diapers and potty-training a child are great examples of this. I am not going to cite any studies to prove this, but I think the general population dislikes dealing with the urine and feces of other human beings, even when those human beings are cute little kids.

Of course, newborn diapers are not so bad. Gently placing a lightweight baby down on a changing table can even be fun when the kid is smiley and happy. But pretty quickly after beginning solid foods, diapers start to get a little uglier and stinkier. The kids start to get heavier and harder to lift onto a changing table. And at about the time you decide you can't handle the disgusting poopy diapers anymore, you get to start dealing with disgusting poopy underwear.

When we take a step back, however...and a deep breath of fresh air after thoroughly washing our hands...we can see how diapers and the process of potty-training can become excellent parenting mortifications.

First of all, just to repeat the obvious, dealing with the urine and feces of another human being is kind of gross. It's not exactly a highly sought after occupation, and it probably was not a major motivation for our having kids. If it weren't for the fact of our having children, we likely would not deal with this at all. Hence it is a wonderful opportunity to die to self - to face the reality of doing something unpleasant. It may not seem to be a privilege or a gift in earthly terms, but it can be a blessing that increases our humility and brings us closer to God. It is an involuntary mortification - something we do not choose - that can be willingly offered to God. Very few vowed religious will have this particular opportunity, in all its ickiness, but it is a privilege granted to parents!

Besides the particular unsavory quality of changing diapers and potty-training, there is also the inconvenience of it. Most people do not have their day frequently interrupted by other people's bladders and bowels. Very few vowed religious have to interrupt their daily tasks to mop up puddles of urine or rinse out underwear in the toilet. Such interruptions can be annoying and even embarrassing, depending on when and where they occur. It is not surprising if we feel ourselves getting flustered by having to address these issues in the midst of preparing breakfast or in the midst of friends at the local park. And yet, the inconvenience can also be a great mortification, interrupting one good activity for another (potentially) good one. The interruption and inconvenience can also be an opportunity to embrace our own lack of control, dying to ourselves and our own plans so that we can re-align ourselves to God's will.

When it comes to potty-training, many parents have the experience of feeling like there is no end in sight. Patience can run thin, and we can feel stuck in the moment. There is no big picture, just ANOTHER  "accident." In such moments, our lack of trust in God (and in our children's potential) can be painfully obvious. "Training" seems to imply an end result of being "trained," and yet, when the progress is slow, this end seems to be nothing more than a legend for which there is no proof. Perseverance in the face of this seemingly unchanging reality can be painful. At the same time, however, it is a good reminder to us of the training required for our own virtue and holiness. We may want immediate results, but we do not always get them. Like a toddler being potty-trained, we may fail and fail and fail again as we strive to master ourselves. Like the poopy toddler, we may not notice our stinky situation, or we may pretend not to notice it. We may run away to avoid admitting it and facing reality. This journey of life, like potty-training, is a messy one, but it is also one filled with daily opportunities to try again and again to acknowledge our own weaknesses and failures, so that we can let ourselves be trained with God's grace. 

Diapers and potty-training. Disgusting. Inconvenient. Frustrating. Interminable.

Sanctifying.

As parents, we shouldn't waste that waste, but rather, put it to good use!

Being a Toddler of God

Yes, that's one way to eat applesauce.

Life with a toddler is quite a unique experience. Perhaps at no other age are children so dramatic, so temperamental, so opinionated, so cute, and so difficult as when they are toddlers. Some people will say that the main reason for toddler tantrums is simply that they have trouble communicating what it is they want and hence become frustrated, acting out in whatever way will get them attention.

No doubt there is some truth to that, but it also seems that much of toddler frustration comes from the realization that they cannot have everything they want at the time they want it or in the way they want it. Toddlers can also appear completely irrational, in part because they do not understand (or perhaps do not LIKE) the way the world works. My toddler has in the past gotten very frustrated at my stopping at red lights, especially if I seem to be waiting too long. "GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" he will yell from directly behind my driver's seat. This past summer, my toddler threw a monster tantrum every single morning for two weeks in a row because I refused to give him a popsicle for breakfast. Rules like stopping at a red light or no popsicles for breakfast are simply not compelling to a toddler.

Then we may also observe that toddlers often have a more profound degree of indecision than the rest of us. A simple question, such as "Do you want red socks or blue?" can wreak havoc. Not to mention that toddlers sometimes will ask for something, and when they are given it, they forget about it and walk away. There are other times when they seem upset that they received what they asked for, and they will throw it or themselves on the ground.

Toddlers can be extremely covetous, employing that word "MINE!" frequently, even for things, such as the garlic mincer or potato peeler, which clearly are NOT theirs. And another frequent word of toddlers, is, of course, "NO!" which in their mind seems to apply in many situations, even when it is not a valid answer to a particular question.

It can be quite tough living with someone who gets upset over small matters, dislikes particular rules, throws tantrums about minor concerns, is indecisive on basic decisions, shows little gratitude, and is possessive about things that aren't even his. It is a great parenting mortification. Dealing with a toddler is an opportunity for death to self in order to live for God. There are many aspects of toddler behavior we'd like to avoid, but since we can't, we should try to make the best of the seeming irrationalities, tantrums, etc. We can offer these situations, and our attempts at patience with them, as an opportunity for prayer and growing closer to God.

Life with a toddler is also a wonderful situation for reflecting on our own childhood before God. Do we ever get frustrated with God's rules? Do we ever try to avoid good formation and growing in virtue so we can do things we find more pleasurable or fun? Do we ever have bad days where we get upset for very little (or even no) reason at all? Do we ever ask God for something in prayer and then forget about it or show no gratitude when we receive it? Do we ever get possessive about material possessions, acting as though they will last for all eternity? Do we ever want other people's things and get angry when we can't have them? Do we ever tell God "NO!" when we feel He is asking us to do something we don't want to do or something that we think is too difficult?

Yes. The fact is that we - even as adults - often act like toddlers. That we are bigger and older might make it seem to us that our adult version of the toddler behavior is more acceptable than their toddler behavior. And yet, God probably often looks upon us in loving patience (and even amusement) the same way that we look at our toddlers. We get upset about little things. We don't always want to follow God's rules, and we don't admit our failings. We sometimes yell or take out our anger on others, including people who do not deserve it. We hate to wait and show our impatience in dramatic ways. We become indecisive about decisions when we should be trusting in God. We do not thank God enough for our blessings. We often want too much when it comes to material possessions. We sometimes try to bend God's will to our own, while also resisting doing God's will, even when it is clear to us.

"Amen, I say to you, unless you become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." These words of Jesus from Matthew 18:2-4 tell us that we should be like children. But surely the behavior described above is not what Jesus had in mind. Toddlers can be difficult, it's true. And yet they also have a tremendous amount of trust and willingness to be loved. As much as they want to do things by themselves, they realize they need help and they ask for it. They seek our help and like constant awareness of our presence. They know that we will often grant their requests. They seek our affection. They seem to recognize their dependence. 

Our toddlers should be a reminder to us of our own dependence upon God. We need to seek to be childlike as they are, ready to ask for help and trust that we will get the response that is best for us in God's eyes, rather than just our own. As adults, we should leave behind the childish toddler tantrums we see exhibited by our kids, but at the same time, we should humble ourselves, becoming childlike by recognizing our dependence on God and growing each day in love for him.

So, the next time the toddler throws a tantrum, embrace that as a double mortification: a challenge requiring loving patience and a reminder of our own imperfections and need for childlike humility. The childish response is to become annoyed and angry at the irrational demonstrative child. The childlike response is to use this moment to depend on God's help, asking Him to give us the grace we need to be good parents, as He is to us when we throw tantrums.