DONE

I just threw away a half-full expired container of Parmesan cheese. And I tried to stifle my shame as I did so.

Because, you see, this is not something that would have happened in my pre-earthquake life. I cooked back then. I had a well-stocked, well-organized kitchen from which I could prepare real food for my family. I shopped once a week from a well-planned list derived from a collection of meal ideas that I cycled through, keeping an eye on food I had in the cabinet and in the fridge so I would be using up what I had and let nothing go to waste. I even tried to cook relatively healthy food. And occasionally, I looked for new recipes that my family would like so I could try them, too.

Because that’s what a good wife and mother does. Right? I mean, I’m not claiming to be any kind of kitchen goddess . . . but I at least tried. Doing less than that didn’t feel like an option.

I don’t try anymore. And there’s a lot of other stuff I don’t do anymore either. I don’t dust every week. I don’t decorate the house for every holiday. I don’t mow my own lawn. (Okay, the ex did that most of the time, but when he wasn’t around, I had to do it.)

As I said, I’ve struggled a bit with shame at my new shockingly indolent lifestyle. I wonder what my mother would think of me. Mom was the quintessential Queen of the Homefront. A spotless house . . . delicious home-cooked meals every night . . . handmade clothes and handcrafted holiday decorations . . . all that. That was the standard -- the one I never seemed to meet.

Somebody posted a story on FB recently: a woman telling her therapist that the thing that was stressing her out the most at that moment was her dishes. Her dishwasher wasn’t cleaning the dishes well, which meant she had to pre-wash everything, which meant she put the job off and always had a huge pile of dishes sitting in her kitchen sink. Her therapist had simple advice for her: “Run the dishwasher twice.”

Like . . . what?

That’s not what you’re supposed to do, she said (and I concurred). But her therapist pushed her. Says who? Why CAN’T you run the dishwasher twice if it reduces stress in your life?

Well, dang. What a concept.

I have my own dishwasher issues. In the top rack, only dishes in the center get clean -- I usually have to hand-wash the rest of them after I take them out. I don’t know what the problem is. I keep thinking I should get my google on, do some exploring and experimenting, and figure out how to fix the thing. But the thought of that exhausts me. So, a couple weeks ago, on a whim, I just didn't put any dishes around the edges of the top rack.

I felt like I was capitulating. Copping out and giving up. I felt lazy, wasteful, and incompetent.

And then . . . I GOT OVER IT. 

Hallelujah, Thine the glory! Now I just run the dishwasher more often with less dishes in it.

In my previous life as a Creative Memories consultant, I had a mantra for my perfectionist scrapbook customers: “Done is better than perfect.” I have perfectionist students I say the same thing to now. Not everything needs to be done at an optimal level. Sometimes, it just needs to get done. Like the dishes.

And there are other things that don't need to be done by me. Like the lawncare.

Or done as often. Like dusting.

And there are other things that really don't need to get done at all. Like holiday decorating.

I'm enjoying this freedom to go full-blown Elsa on my household duties: "Let it go! Let it go!" I don't have to do it all, thank you, Jesus. That leaves space for me to do the things I actually love . . . 

Like writing this. :)