Housekeeping

Knock, knock!

The first time I ever heard the term ‘housekeeping’ in the context of a meeting framework was at a Key Club meeting at Sneed Middle School in Florence, South Carolina, in the year 2000. I was a seventh grader, a socially awkward but physically mature nerd-girl who enjoyed listening to classical and contemporary Christian music, reading, “blading,” and shooting hoops in my dad’s church’s parking lot.

At the meeting, I remember spending the majority of the session transfixed on the term and its use. ‘Housekeeping’ was a word uttered by people who ‘had money,’ a phrase used by the grown-ups of my life to describe the rich. Why was it being used to structure a middle school club meeting?

Little did I know then that I’d use the term myself the following year and throughout high school and college to run a laundry list of student organizations—Beta Club, National Honor Society, Spanish Club, FBLA, Chemistry Club, Student Council, and so on and so forth.

Little did I know then that my mother at the age of 55 would make ‘housekeeping’ her personal business—it would no longer be just a bullet point under her old job description as a SAHM and a Preacher’s Wife.

Weekly, with her new husband, my mom cleans gigantic beach homes and spacious condos and makes a decent living—something she’d never experienced for the bulk of her life. If I close my eyes and travel back through time, I can still hear the tearful conversations she had with bill collectors over the phone. I can still remember the look on her face after walking into a church and asking for money to pay rent or keep our lights on. I can still remember the silence—the constraint—she exuded, which spoke volumes, while my father berated her on “tricking him” into buying whatever item he wanted from Walmart (usually something from the electronics department) or eating out at that restaurant when she knew “full well” that they couldn’t afford it.

She now sends my daughters big boxes of gifts for all occasions, filled to the brim with things she didn’t once have to think twice about before she purchased. I imagine her with that wide, giddy smile of hers, child-like, as she packs and sends off each crate with the same care that she wrapped and gave gifts to each of her five children for every holiday and every birthday.

We’ve come a long way—though separately—and I’m proud of us.

Housekeeping is an admirable act of service in whatever form it takes.

Sowing a wildflower garden this year was the best idea ever.

***

Now that I’ve cleared my mind of old memories and related thoughts, let’s get to some real newsletter ‘housekeeping’!

As most stay-at-home parents know, summers, with little to no childcare, can be brutal. My husband and I are fortunate enough to be able to put our girls in three weeks of camp and have already had two weeks of beach vacation this past month, but the rest of the weeks are “home weeks” for us, and I am mentally preparing for that point of the summer when you think you just cannot anymore. You cannot do another day of packing the snacks, applying the sunblock, filling the water bottles, bringing the extra set of dry clothes and towels, etc., etc.

But, of course, you do.

You call in the troops (your husband) to assist you in getting out of the door and carry out your mission to make memories that last because goddammit, we’re running out of time! You head to the closest creek or public pool or library or a friend’s house for a relieving playdate because a change of scenery does help—it keeps the anxiety and depression at bay and invites that unexpected and spontaneous magic that only summer carries.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

With that said, this newsletter will be a little loosey-goosey for the next couple of months. Here’s what you can expect:

• I’ve discontinued the Mind-Body-Soul series for good because I didn’t feel that it was doing the thing I wanted to do. Back to the drawing board I go. Stay tuned.

• I’ll continue the Human/Parents interview series and Therapist Spotlight feature series, but I’ll likely drop the structured format of specific topics every month. I’m going to attempt a random (but thoughtful) rotation of mental health and/or parenting topics and see how that goes, see how the water flows. If you’re not interested in receiving any of the series e-mails, you can unsubscribe from those sections by following these easy steps.

• I’ll also continue to publish personal essays but only when I feel called by my Muse. Full disclosure: I’m using the scholarship money that I won from

  Evelyn Skye
  to take a creative writing course online through Stanford University (Evelyn’s alma mater!), so I’m going to be busy behind the scenes, trying very hard not to throw up due to imposter syndrome and writing straight from the heart (a.k.a. the only way I know how).

One thing I’ve learned since starting this Substack publication a little over a year ago is this (and thanks to

Edward Zaydelman

for sharing!):

Action brings clarity.

Work yields enlightenment.

Consistency produces confidence.

Thank you for being here for the ride—and for your patience, as I continue to “act” as a form of figuring it all out (re: this newsletter, parenting, life).

I’ll continue to publish my work for free (and appreciate all the free returns via likes, comments, re-stacks), but, if you feel so inclined to support my work with your hard-earned dollars, I’m running a special offer from now until the end of summer for an annual subscription for $12 ($1/month)!

Click this button to receive the discount:

Believe me, I know the value of a George Washington, so I mean it when I say this: thank you for funding this nourishing and fun project that is Human/Mother! And, if you’re already a paid subscriber, thank you so much.

I appreciate all y’all!

By the way, ICYMI, here are some recent posts that have really resonated with folks:

I think that does it. Thanks again, y’all! HAGS! ❤️❤️❤️

—Katrina

Me.