As a young homemaker with young children, I wanted to learn how to do all the things related to home. I didn’t have any kind of homemaking skillset. I had learned to dust furniture with Pledge, clean glass with Windex, load a dishwasher, and vacuum. I didn’t even know how to do those things well. I had never cared until I got my own house. I threw myself into learning homemaking skills for years. Back in the Spring of 2002, I read about FlyLady in a magazine, and she helped me learn some cleaning routines. I had learned some cooking skills in a Nutrition class in college, but other than that, I taught myself how to cook. I spent years exploring new recipes and finding the ones we love best. Cooking a new recipe is a small adventure, right here in my home. I made baby food, my own cleaning supplies, candles, vanilla, jams. I taught myself to sew, knit, crochet, and craft, and spent many years making gifts of all kinds. Learning these skills gave me great joy, confidence, and a sense of proficiency. I look back and am so proud of my curious mind, my willingness to explore, and my generosity with what I learned.
With proficiency came the belief that if I know how to do something, then I must be the one to do it. My skillset became large enough that I could spend every hour of every day of every year until I die engaged in endless work in my home. My homemaking joys started to become burdens because I thought I was responsible to do all that was needed since I knew how. I felt obligated to frugality. I felt like not using my creativity in gifts was inauthentic. I think I had some sad, unconscious view that homemade equals holiness. It’s crazy how our ideals can become too sacred.
This mindset robbed me of joy. The unrealistic expectations of myself exhausted me. I began to resent my beloved hobbies. I didn’t feel like I had time for fun or friends or connection because my self-imposed lists were demanding all my time and attention. I felt lonely. When did my ideals become idols? I am not sure. One of the great themes of my life is moving from feeling trapped to experiencing freedom. I was trapped again in a snare that looked nice and seemed nice but was taking me out. I like to grab onto good things and make them The Thing. I now pray continually for the Spirit to expose it in me and pray that I am sensitive to it. I know how prone I am to wander.
Today, I outsourced. My son turns 18 next week, and we are hosting an 18-hour birthday party. I started thinking that I needed to make all the lunch, dinner, and snack food myself and starting feeling like I was going to sink. Instead, I got on the Publix website and ordered some delicious sub rings for the lunch. I will order pizza for dinner that tonight. I will make things simple so that I can enjoy my son and not break myself with all the service.
There was a day I stopped making baby food and bought jars. There was a day I stopped using cloth diapers and bought disposable again. There was a day I decided to get Little Caesar’s pizza every Wednesday. There were a few postpartum seasons that I hired someone to clean my bathrooms and floors. There was a season I had two children in public school for a year instead of homeschooling so that I could breathe. There was a day when I bought Mrs. Meyer’s kitchen spray and put the homemade stuff away. There was a Christmas I decided that Amazon worked just fine and let my craft room rest. There was a day when I decided to keep frozen convenience foods around for my teens instead of obsessing about their diets. There was a day I realized that my belovedness as a daughter, mother, wife, sister, and friend doesn’t come from my works. Jesus gives me freedom. I can outsource parts of my life, and it’s okay.
I allow the good enough to be the enemy of the perceived best. It happens over and again. Who’s to say what is best? In my mind, the planned homemade chicken spaghetti I was going to make last week for a friend probably wasn’t as good as the Zoe’s Family Meal with kebobs that I ended showing up with. The woman who cleans houses for a living probably does a more thorough job than I do. The teacher at the school has a skillset and ideas that I don’t have. The gift from Amazon was probably the exact thing my friend has wished for. Who am I to say that outsourcing is even second best? Maybe it’s the exact next right thing. And it keeps my schedule and soul spacious and at rest.
Living in the pandemic for a little over a year has made most of us tired. There is collective fatigue. Maybe it’s time to consider outsourcing a few things to ease some burdens. Maybe that’s the way to help stimulate our local economies. Maybe that’s the way we will be more interconnected and less alone.
Serving Costco Street Tacos for dinner,
Aimee
"With proficiency came the belief that if I know how to do something, then I must be the one to do it." This is eye-opening for me. For me, growing up on a farm where we literally did do everything, it often doesn't even occur to me to "outsource." And as an empty-nester, I feel that I should have time to keep up with cooking, yardwork, cleaning...but I also work fulltime+overtime and am a caregiver for my husband. Thank you for giving me another perspective.
You put this into words much better than I've done (to myself), but yes! I also sometimes feel like because I know how to do something, I should be the one to do it--and felt guilty for not doing it myself. It's something I've tried to get over, so I can enjoy my hobbies again.