Armed with a broom, dustpan and microfiber cloth, I recently don one of the numerous hats of a SAHM ( stay at home mom) — that of a cleaning lady.
Nothing chips away any pretensions a woman has about herself than cleaning one’s house. I think it is the great leveler of women. Stripped of make up while wearing a ratty shirt, we all tend to look commonly bare.
I did not feel helpless when my maids left for I don’t abhor household chores. Thanks to my mother who was a SAHM for many years and a cleaning diva. I remember that she would shoo my brothers and I to play outside so she can clean the house to her obsessive heart’s content. Once allowed to come in, we were sternly reminded to tiptoe across the waxed floor or else we won’t hear the end of it.
Cleaning house, though tough on my lower back, has proven to be cathartic as the motions of dusting and mopping give a consistent rhythm to my day. I can never reach the cleaning standards of my mother but at the end of the day I feel light and satisfied.