The Young and the Restless
The Young & The Restless | If we can learn to read, we can learn to do anything
A weekend at home was in order as I felt the overwhelm of rapidly accumulating household chores and yard work enveloping me after the holiday season wound down and we were snapped back to reality.
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With so much rain and humidity, my lawns could have done with mowing twice a week the past few weeks. Weeds had taken over large parts of the yard, growing in places I’d never seen them before, and spiders were building webs about the area as though it had been abandoned.
School holidays mean kids are at home more often, and coincidentally, the floors get stickier quicker. When they march in from the pool, not entirely having dried themselves enough outside, they’ve usually got some of that twice-cut-in-a-week grass stuck to their damp (not-so)-little-(any more) feet.
So, as much as I wanted to take them for a little jaunt across the countryside before the school holidays expired, I chose to quash my restlessness and be boring this time.
I’ve had people say to me, “Why don’t your kids mow the lawns? They’re old enough to know?”
I agree. They’re definitely old enough, smart enough, strong enough, responsible enough and all those other things required to do my lawns, and I know they can because they’ve been taught and they have done it before.
They also offer, on occasion, to help without prompting. Sometimes, I take them up on it; sometimes, I don’t.
You see, I enjoy mowing my lawns. I get to put my headphones on, listen to music and focus on something that doesn’t require any complex thought for 90 whole minutes.
Sometimes, this newspaper column writes itself inside my head during that time (bring on thought-to-text AI, wink wink).
And at the risk of sounding like a control freak, there’s a sure way I like the lawns done and I want the task out of the way efficiently.
But more than anything, I think to myself – it’s my house, they’re my lawns, why shouldn’t I mow them?
My children are children having a childhood.
One day, they’ll have their own homes with their own lawns to mow.
I didn’t have kids so that they could mow the lawns at my house.
“Oh, but they won’t know how to do it unless you teach them.”
Oh, but I didn’t start mowing my own lawns until I was 36 years of age when my ex-husband moved out.
In a clichéd setup, he was responsible for most of the yard work, while I took care of most of the housework.
But you know what? I was shown once how to do it, and that was all it took to learn.
“How will they know how to use a washing machine?”
Well, they could read the manual that comes with theirs. It’s no doubt going to be different to mine anyway.
They could even jump on YouTube and watch a tutorial.
Or, they could call me, and I could pop over and give them a two-minute run down.
I’m sure they’ll be just fine with another smart device on top of all the smart devices they’ve grown up on.
See, I think if we can learn to read, we can learn to do anything.
The luxury of living in a First-World country and being middle class is that if we don’t want to do something ourselves, are not interested in learning how to do something ourselves or don’t trust ourselves with a certain task that might be outside our skill set; we can pay for services.
I personally am too stubborn and too stingy to pay for anything that I am capable of doing myself, which may be why I get to that point of being overwhelmed when the jobs mound up, but it is nice to know if things ever get too much, I can delegate tasks for a fee.
Now, I’m not saying my kids don’t help around the house — of course they do. But instead of giving them set routine tasks (they have plenty of routine with school, jobs and paper rounds), like assigning them a particular night to cook for everyone so that they can learn cooking skills, I’d much rather make the cake they wanted to make and teach them about the kitchen appliances, cooktops and ovens that way.
Again, they have learned how to read recipes, and I’m just a phone call away if they need help when they move out.
I remember calling my Mum for recipes and cooking tips when I first moved out of home, 250km away, onto a small vineyard.
It wasn’t just about needing help in the kitchen; it was about staying connected.
And it was lovely for both of us.
My parents could have taught me everything I needed to know about servicing and maintaining our childhood home while I lived there, so I was equipped when I moved into my own.
But when I moved to a rural area, I all of a sudden had gas from bottles and rainwater from tanks instead of town mains.
I didn’t have a letterbox, I had to drive to the nearest town’s post office, and so on.
I knew nothing of these things, but I worked them out.
We all adapt pretty quickly once we’re out on our own in our own unique situations.
So, I’ll keep juggling where I can for the next few years of my children’s fleeting childhoods before they fly the coop.
On weekends like the one just passed, I’ll stop in the afternoons when the heat gets too much and come inside and play a board game or two with them under the aircon before heading out again to do more jobs.
Then, later, we’ll all cool down in the pool when the UV rays aren’t as high before coming in to cook dinner.
And then, when it’s time to get comfy in front of the TV for a family movie night, we’ll practice some kitchen skills, putting together a movie-night platter with milkshakes and, popcorn and even homemade chocolate tops.
However, if there’s no energy left to make them and a few spare dollars in the weekend’s budget, in this day and age, we could use a smart device and pay someone else to DoorDash the real things to us directly from the cinema itself.
But of course, I’m too stubborn and too stingy to pay anyone to do anything I’m capable of doing myself.
Senior journalist