Motherhood is.....series, part 2

Motherhood is Repetitious

I stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes AGAIN!! I paused a moment to holler out the now familiar triple command: "Flush the toilet. Close the lid. Wash your hands". And then I resumed washing the same dishes I had washed the day before and the day before that and the month before that and the year before that. The dishes have grown fewer over the years as more and more have succumbed to the hard tile kitchen floor and been reduced to shards that live on only in memory, but still I washed. 

After washing dishes, there were the same counters to wipe AGAIN, the same clothes to fold, the same floor to sweep. There were the same commands to issue, "Come pick up your shoes and put them away." "Go put your socks where they belong" "No, that is not where they belong, go put them where they belong." I have found clothes in odd places because of the lack of desire to put them away right. (A month ago, when I was frantically cleaning up my house after a neglected summer, I found PJ's in the storage area under the stairs, because obviously he couldn't have been bothered to walk that extra 20 steps to his room and the basket they belonged in.)

Some days as I repeat instructions for what feels like the millionth time, I repeat a line to myself. "Line upon line, precept upon precept"  It is through repetition that we learn. 

Telling my children one time to clean up their toys does not teach them that they need to automatically do it every day. Telling myself I need to be more intentional in mothering doesn't automatically make it happen. Repetition is what engrains it in my memory. As I sit here typing rapidly away on my computer, I am reminded very clearly of what repetition does. I am a pretty fast typist, but only because I have practiced and practiced and practiced and repeated and repeated and repeated. I didn't learn to type the first time I sat down at the computer. 

Here comes a bunny trail: I remember the first time I sat down to type. I was young, maybe 8 or 10 and had been given the exciting privilege of sitting down at my mom's typewriter. Yes, you read that write. There was no backspace or screen to see what you were writing. You pressed a key and a little finger leaped out of the typewriter and planted that letter in black on your white piece of typing paper. If it was the wrong letter, well then you got out the white-out or started over. But still, this was exciting and I proceeded to peck out letters until my mom decided that I should learn to type by holding my hands correctly and not by pecking. It was a bitter disappointment and that is where my memory stops. I have no idea if I did try to learn to type that day or if I quit. I only remember that far. 

Anyway, back to repetition. I think repetition is good; it's how things are learned, habits are developed and character is built. And let's face it, I think our mothering skills are developed through repetition. That first time you changed your firstborn's diaper probably did not go as smoothly as the last time you changed your youngest baby's diaper. You learned through repetition how to read that book from memory just before you tucked everyone in for naps. You learned from repetition that going to town when your children were going to need lunch wasn't the best time for cheerful shopping. (Of course, there's the chance you were a faster learner at that)

I suppose you're wondering about that laundry and dishes and what benefit you receive from the mindless repetition of dirty clothes and dirty dishes. I'm glad you asked because there is a definite benefit. Dirty clothes means there are people in your house who are living and breathing and making messes. I have a friend who had to wash her son's clothes for the last time and tuck them away. I would guess she would love to wash and rewash and wash again those little sleepers and jeans and shirts, but that repetition has been denied her. Give thanks for those dirty clothes you wash every.single.week.

And dishes? Well dishes mean you have food to eat. That's a privilege not everyone enjoys. And while you're doing the repetitious task of washing dishes, there is opportunity for you to pause and reflect on your blessings. It's a chance to thank God for the gift of dishes, it's an opportunity to worship God because He is good, and it's a reminder to pray for the people who are not as blessed as you. 

So the next time you want to become frustrated about repetition, remember it is in the monotony of normal life that the blessing of health and family is hidden in plain sight. Give thanks dear mothers!