Let’s start with the premise that I have no confidence that I have done this right. I’m guessing. I’m trying. I don’t feel like I have the right to say my methods were good yet. I definitely don’t feel like my methods or approach are fully available to everyone equally. So much of my life is shaped by access to deep privilege at this point.

Yesterday I went out sledging with Shortie. It turns out our road is now excellent for this now that the farm tractors aren’t racing up and down it prodigiously. This was great news! We had a blast. It was a truly excellent time. Then we walked to the Co-op for milk for hot cocoa. By the time we got home I had walked about 2 miles but it felt like 8. She pressured me to agree to watching one of their cartoons with the kids while we drank it.

I really struggle with cartoons as a medium. Even when I have genuine appreciation for a show (Bluey is so good.) I still struggle to focus and care about what is happening. I fall asleep. I can’t sustain attention on them. It takes oomph for me to watch one enough to satisfy them. I have frankly slept through a lot of Owl House. I couldn’t stay awake enough during Avatar to even know what the fuck was happening or who anyone was. My body literally shuts down during these kinds of “You have to watch it to be part of the group” things. I used to sleep through MST3K when my friends got together. I have dim memories of Red Dwarf. So it’s not just cartoons. My brain struggles with “You have to ingest this content in order to be one of us.” I shut down. No. I don’t want to conform.

So when I walked into the house and the dishwasher was poorly, barely filled and the counters were so full of stuff I didn’t feel like I had space to start making the hot cocoa? Oh. I had feelings. I hadn’t done breakfast clean up before I went sledging. I had an online yoga class. I had made the silly assumption the kids would do it. They didn’t. They all had feelings, too.

I could feel myself wanting to explode and get all shouty. This felt not fair. Thing is, shouting won’t help and will make everyone have a sad day. I marched (a bit more heavily than necessary but my legs were super tired and making sure I walk quietly takes effort) to tell the big kids that I could be responsible for items 1-5 on the list of tasks that were necessary before we could get to hot cocoa and cartoon watching. If they wanted us to actually have somewhere to land items 6-10 had to be done by someone other than me.

My kids responded that it sounded totally reasonable and they were very happy to pitch in to help so they could have the fun pay off. No sweat. Everything got done. No one had to do it all. I did a larger share than anyone else but that’s kind of the point, right? I’m the mother and I should do a much larger share of the work?

I struggle a lot with the line between “I am training good future housemates” and parentification. Am I expecting them to take care of me or their siblings? Well, only in small ways that I put boundaries around and then they clock out and aren’t responsible anymore? They aren’t responsible for obtaining food. They are responsible for learning how to meal plan, and prepare food, and clean a kitchen environment so that no one gets sick.

Where is it parentification and where is it teaching them how to be an adult? I don’t want them to have to figure it all out on their own when they leave home. Even more so I don’t want them expecting me to take care of them because they are incompetent if they continue to live with me. I aspire to inter-generational living. We all have the kind of genetic disabilities that mean we sometimes fall ill or injure ourselves and require a fair bit of assistance to hold on to shreds of independence.

I don’t want to be Auntie taking care of my adult children into my 70’s. Fuck no. I think I wouldn’t mind if we were all sharing the work load though. She never transitioned out of “mom does everything” and I don’t want that. I really don’t. So in my house we sit down and negotiate chores. People volunteer to do that which is least annoying to them. Anyone can ask to renegotiate at any time. No one is trapped. Everyone has the ability to say “This isn’t working for me anymore. I need to change jobs.” Cool! No problem!

The parent is the one who tracks the big picture and makes sure it is all done. The parent makes sure the supplies are brought to the house. The parent guides learning how to take over all of these processes when the parent dies. The parent should do the work as long as possible but there is a time when the parent must be replaced.

Is it so wrong to teach people how to fill these roles?

I struggle with this one a lot. I feel even more worried as I have to deal with accomplishing tasks that used to belong to Noah. I can’t physically do all of it alone. I need help. I am now literally physically smaller than two of my children. Is it evil parentification if they do things they are more physically suited to doing? I worry about this massively.

There seem to be no good paths forward. Nevertheless, I keep going.