Resting from Labor

Darlin and her friend Tori at the SV Auto Show

What a beautiful day! As I listen to NPR driving about town, people talk about the future of American jobs, they fret over customer service call centers in India and the dangers of outsourcing, but lately it’s been a different form of domestic outsourcing I can’t get out of my head– outsourcing in my home. In business the stuff to be saved is money, but in the home it is convenience. As a part of my modern life, I feel the work of home life shifting away from me. I feel a constant battle between the cartoon angel (B-the Martha) and devil (Just-Enjoy-Yourself B) on my shoulder. There are days I can be heard yelling for want of a cleaning lady. It would free me up to spend more time playing with my 3 boys, skating, being involved in the community and preparing primary lessons. Somehow though I can’t let go of the responsibility of cleaning up my own mess and taking care of my own things.

I watch as the crew of five manicuring my neighbor’s lawn. They must cringe when they see my DIY yard. That little devil jumps furiously up and down on my shoulder and fumes when hours of Saturday time are spent mowing the lawn, fertilizing, and mulching. The little angel valiantly reminds me that these aren’t wasted hours, that more memories are made and moral values transmitted when my boys work with me rather than sit silently next to me at the movies, munching popcorn.

I wonder do we lose part of ourselves when we don’t have to get dirty, or sweaty, or give up our favorite leisure pursuits? If it’s too hard for us to take care of, does it mean excess? If the house is too big? Do I have too much stuff? Is it time to simplify?

Darlin and her friend Joy



I’m afraid of removing myself from the tiring work of it all. I fear my ingratitude, I fear my own sloth, because I could DEFINITELY get used to days like this, were my real life is like other people's vacations.

Evolution has yielded a division of labor. Do we even, as a people, believe there is inherent value in the work of home, or do we see it as simply a minimum wage, menial job? I don’t want to stray too far from these jobs because I feel they are embedded with our humanity. These acts of care and work connect us across generations and cultures. I wonder what my grandparents would think of my life. I wonder what they would tell me?

Am I robbing myself and my boys of fulfillment, of responsibility, of the inherent confidence that comes with work well done? What about feelings of being capable, skillful, useful, even powerful, that come when you perfect a special recipe or refinish a piece of furniture?
In our busy changing world, it is part of life. I am not about to give up my Libman wonder mop or my microwave and I will probably still get sushi from Yoshi's on occasion but, I need to keep my angel and devil talking on my shoulder. I need my decisions to be deliberate, so as not to unwittingly toss out some of life’s simplest yet deepest experiences.