Maid service

The other day, I was talking to some girls about their chores at home. As we went around the circle, I heard the answers you'd expect to get from 8-year-olds. I clean my room. I make my bed. I walk the dog. I help with the dishes. I set the table. Then, we get to my daughter. Do you feel me cringing? My little angel. My firstborn. The light of my life. I sit on the couch while my mom does all the chores. Yikes. I can't believe my child actually said that. I can't blame her though. She's kind of right. I pretty much spend my life cleaning up after my kids. She learned a bad habit of leaving her dirty laundry on the floor. She'll take out a game or activity and leave it there when she's done with it. She'll forget to take her dish to the sink after a meal. And I've rarely said anything. Sure, I'll complain that her room is a pigsty, but I'll say it while I'm picking the stuff up from the floor. Cleaning up after her has just become such a habit that I do it without thinking and I guess her thought is why should she clean up after herself if she knows I'm going to do it eventually. She knows me. She'll say she's going to do something - later. She knows I can't wait until later, so I'll pick it up. I know where she learned the habit, but I'm not going to say it here because I know her dad reads my blog and might feel offended. ;-) I guess my daughter is one of those people that isn't bothered by mess. Clutter is comforting to her. Now, I'm not saying I'm the queen of clean. I'm far from it. I hate cleaning. I wish I could push a button like Jane Jetson and have it all done for me. I just think if you are finished with your glass of milk, put the glass in the sink. Or if you take off your dirty clothes, throw them in the hamper. Or if you open a package, take the wrapping and plastic and put it in the trash. I'm not asking for miracles here! But, I can't blame my kids. I've got to be more proactive. Instead of just automatically doing a chore, I've got to stop and let them know that it's their job to feed the cat/fish/turtle. It's their job to set the table, put their dishes in the sink, pick up their clothes, wipe the toothpaste off the sink, put their shoes away.....Maybe I'll put a rubber band on my wrist and every time I bend over to pick up a book or a sneaker or a doll, I'll pull the band and snap it and the pain will remind me that this is not my job. No pain, no gain, right?