A colleague and I recently engaged in a conversation about our daily routines. At the time, I was a full-time mother, while he held a prestigious position at a leading advertising agency, boasting a title like “Director of Creative Branded Cross-Advertorial Synergistic Relationships.” Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked him what that job actually involved.
“I direct creative branded cross-advertorial synergistic relationships,” he informed me.
“Can you clarify what that means?” I inquired.
“I facilitate creative branded cross-advertorial synergistic relationships,” he replied, slightly annoyed.
“Let’s break it down. When you arrive at the office and grab your coffee, what happens until 6 p.m.?” I asked, as if explaining to a child.
“I send emails,” he responded.
“And what about you?” he asked.
“I wipe stuff,” I replied.
Motherhood comes with various titles: housewife, domestic engineer, working mother, stay-at-home mom, or work-at-home mother. Regardless of the label we choose, when we examine the actual duties that define motherhood, it boils down to a lot of cleaning.
To be fair, it’s not solely about wiping. My daily tasks include scraping, scrubbing, folding, and sweeping. The specific title is largely inconsequential because, upon close inspection, my primary role resembles that of a cleaning lady.
This isn’t merely a trivial observation; it becomes an issue because I genuinely dislike cleaning. I find chores that require constant repetition—like washing dishes or doing laundry—particularly frustrating. It’s similar to my feelings about personal grooming; in the shower, I often think, “Didn’t I just do this yesterday?”
When a baby arrives, many things take new parents by surprise: the intensity of labor, the costs of childcare, and the unsolicited advice about dressing your newborn in warm layers even on mild days. However, what truly caught me off guard—something I wish someone had warned me about—was the exponential increase in cleaning duties. (I’d say it multiplies tenfold, but I’m not sure what that word is, perhaps “dectuples”?)
Before children, my partner and I managed chores casually; we washed a few dishes nightly, vacuumed sporadically, and scrubbed the tub only when necessary. But with kids, one meal transforms the kitchen into a battlefield. After breakfast, it looks as if a major food fight erupted, complete with toast crusts as projectiles. Jam drips from unexpected places, and we require an arsenal of utensils for every meal.
The pile of dirty dishes resembles a never-ending conveyor belt. Early on, in my role as a stay-at-home mom, I’d joke with my husband, “You know who Sisyphus’ wife was? Dishyphus. While Sisyphus was out making a name for himself with his rock, Dishyphus was at home chipping away at the remnants of scrambled eggs.” Then I’d often find myself in tears, prompting my husband to suggest we rethink our approach to household responsibilities.
Even with both of us contributing, the cleaning seems relentless. Together, we spend most days trying to restore order against the chaos our children create. One child enjoys cutting tiny bits of paper that evade easy cleanup, another has decorated his bedroom door with marker drawings, and yet another has left a trail of sand from his shoes that leads directly to my freshly made bed.
By the time night falls, my husband, too drained to tackle the dirty pots, often relegates a small amount of leftover pasta sauce to the fridge, knowing that it will likely become a science experiment. Coats, bags, and shoes litter the hallway like markers on a short marathon route—I’ve given up pleading with the kids to put their things away.
When a baby is born in a hospital, it would be wise for the staff to equip new mothers with microfiber cloths, rags, and paper towels. Alongside breastfeeding and infant care classes, a housekeeping workshop should be included. They might say, “Get ready for this: the breastfeeding and diaper changes will eventually pass, but the wiping? That’s an indefinite commitment of motherhood.”
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In summary, motherhood is often romanticized, but the reality involves a significant amount of cleaning and maintenance. It’s a role that demands resilience and adaptability, and while the joys of parenthood are profound, the mundane tasks of keeping a home in order can feel overwhelming.