The Joan Syndrome or That's What Mother's Do

Last week I was lucky enough to spend a few days up in Washington visiting our friends and seeing beautiful places. While visiting in my friend's perfectly clean homes, I tried to do a little housework, like making my own bed, washing and folding my laundry and doing a few dishes. Why? It wasn't my house. I didn't have to do anything. I was on vacation even.

I then traveled to Provo to paint Megan's dorm room and then to Ogden to visit Kelly, Lorraine and Cora. There was no sitting. Only working. Why? Why can't I just relax and visit. Because I like working. I have to feel useful. I have to feel like I have accomplished something or am working on accomplishing something. I have to feel functional and task-oriented. It is part of my self-esteem now. I like to call it "The Joan Syndrome."

Let me explain.

When I was a young mother I was often pregnant, nursing or wrangling small children, which I was happy to do but which I also felt was exhausting. Not to mention the morning sickness and the interrupted sleep and the breast infections and the teething and other assorted childhood illnesses. Needless to say, although I kept a sanitary, livable house, there was much I could have done that I simply did not, could not, accomplish in a day.

Then, about every three months, out of a clear blue sky, a living hurricane would be seen on the horizon and a strong wind would blow my mother into the house. (Any witch reference is unintentional.) Within 10 minutes of entry, the dishwasher, washer and dryer would be running, the vacuumming was done and the vacuum was already put away and she was scrubbing the bathroom with Comet and promising the kids they could play a little baseball out on the lawn.

Then, while I was taking a nap (it was exhausting just watching her) , she would run to the store and stock me up on the basics like eggs, milk, cheese, bread and chocolate chips. Before my husband could get home from work, dinner was in the oven, a batch of cookies was cooling on the counter and all laundry was folded and put away. It was a miracle. She was a miracle.

I got to help Lorraine out just a little bit last week and I had so much fun playing with Cora, who, by the way, is a-cora-ble, and straightening up just a little bit. But what my visit reminded me of is that during those years of young motherhood you never really feel 100%. You are always a little tired, or really, really tired, a little sick, a little hungry, a little overwhelmed and it's nice when someone who loves you and who is through their childbearing years can swoop in and just take over for a day or two.

Thank you Joan. And you're welcome Lorraine.