I grew up the second of seven siblings. There was always work to be done at our house. And my recollection is that we all pitched in to get things done. Saturday mornings the family was up early and we were presented with the list of chores to be done before we could play. There was no sleeping in for any of us.
Work inside or work outside, the choice was mine, but everyone was to work. With seven of us there was always someone who opted for the inside work. My older sister opted for the controlled environment of the inside because she liked the familiar, the certainty of the routine of folding laundry, ironing, cooking, and cleaning windows. I always went for the outside work; mowing, trimming, pulling weeds, cleaning the bar-b-que grill, changing the oil in the car, pouring concrete for the new deck, cleaning out the gutters, whatever the project was for the weekend. It didn't matter so much to me what the job was as long as I could be outside, doing something different each weekend, and working along side my dad.
I loved working with dad. I always felt confident with dad, like I could do anything I put my mind to. I felt determined and tenacious. It was never an issue of whether it was a man's job or a woman's work with dad. It was simply about finding a way to get it done. In the winter the weather took us inside more often than I would have liked. The household tasks were shared by everyone. I watched my dad fold laundry, vacuum, cook and clean right along with the rest of us. He makes the best onion parmesan bread! There were little if any specific gender roles defined between my parents. Us kids, sons and daughters alike, were taught to cook and mow, we were taught to hammer and sew. And I assumed this was how everyone else was raised.
I am trying to raise my children the same way. My daughters are taught how to change their own tires and my sons are taught to sew on a button. They all know how to cook, although some are better than others. Taking out the trash is everyone's responsibilty, and not reserved for just the guys, and same with the yard work. And they all know how to do their own laundry.
For the four months that my husband and I lived in separate states he did his own laundry. He is very competent. He even went to a laundry-mat to do this. And when we bought our new home, he purchased a wonderful new set of energy efficient washer and dryer to go in the new laundry room. When we all moved and joined him, he taught us how the new appliances worked. I was excited he would be sharing in the household chores with the rest of us. Or so I thought.
It is more evident to me now that although I grew up in a home with very blurred gender roles, my husband didn't. Not only would his father not do his own laundry, his mother would never allow her husband to do the laundry. And it would seem that the way we are raised, the nurture part of our person is very difficult to change.
So I had better stop here and go put my husbands clothes in the dryer.
