A Thankless Job?

I'm never quite sure how to take it when I hear people refer to motherhood as a thankless job.

I mean, "thankless" is a bad thing, right?

If I worked in an office all day, or in some other professional setting setting, and someone referred to my job as "thankless", I think I'd know how to take it. Clearly, they think my job is one that no one appreciates, or if they do, they're certainly not speaking up about it.

But do they also mean that someone should be thanking you, for doing your otherwise thankless job?

Do they mean, Good luck with that thankless job. Better you than me.

Or do they mean, Wow. Thank God someone does that job in spite of the fact that you don't get nearly the thanks you deserve for doing it.

Obviously, when it comes to taking care of my children, no one is going to thank me for doing that, with the possible and sporadic exception of my husband (before you bash him, as it happens, I'm not very good about thanking him regularly for doing his job either) and maybe, if I'm very lucky, eventually, my children.

Of course, if the person making the reference means that there's nothing for anyone to thank me for, well, sometimes I do see their point.

The day to day tangible results of my work are not always visible to the naked eye. I did four loads of laundry today, but two of them have yet to be folded. I started to put the other two away, but my children decided that those piles of nicely folded clothes would be better used as something soft to land on when they jumped off their beds. Then they thought it would be fun to see if they could throw them up to the ceiling fan and make them stay there. So much for putting laundry away. I tried to look at the bright side and thought that at least the ceiling fan blades might finally get dusted.

I started to vacuum, but discovered the vacuum wasn't working. I suspect it's clogged with dog hair, but as I started to check, I was distracted by the sound of breaking glass. I then spent the next half an hour removing shards of a broken piggy bank from a child's bedroom floor, by hand. I would have just vacuumed it, but well, you know...

I started to organize N's school papers. She goes to a "green school". I thought this meant they used minimal paper. I think it actually means they use as much paper as they want, and they just keep minimal paper in the school. The rest of it comes home to the parents, so that every few weeks, when our children aren't looking, we can toss some of it and try to decide what to do with the rest. I did this today, and had neat piles of "put away", "display", and "toss" on the kitchen counter. Until B hopped up there, and decided it all looked better on the floor. Then his brother came in and decided it looked better torn into pieces on the floor. It's nice when they can work together on projects like this.

 Oh yes, this is what they mean when they talk about motherhood being a thankless job.

If I worked in an office, it would be the equivalent of going through an extensive stack of paperwork, putting it all where it belongs, and turning around to see it strewn all over the floor, day after day, after day. I would be demanding a raise. Or unionizing. Or going on strike.

If anyone walked into my house on a day like today--which, to be honest, is most days--they would think I was on strike, and wonder what I did all day.

And I would tell them.

I made sure my children were fed, and clothed, and loved. I read to them, I talked to them, and I tried, but failed to hide my frustration when they dumped clean clothes all over the floor and jumped in them before throwing them around the room. I made sure they didn't cut their feet on broken glass, and when I was reaching under the bed to make sure I got it all, I found the cut-out of my daughter's hand that she made in pre-school when she was four. I hope I've cleaned under the bed since then, but I couldn't swear to it. I thought three years was way too long not to have cleaned under the bed, until I really looked at that hand, and realized, three years is nothing.

A few minutes later, I was cleaning up scraps of paper from all over the floor, and as I noticed that even the cobwebs in the corners were growing cobwebs, I  thought,

This is definitely what they mean when they talk about motherhood being a thankless job.

And then B came over and asked me if I'd gotten a hug yet today, and gave me one. A minute later, O followed suit. I was happy to see that at least O is imitating the positive behaviors, as well as the negative ones.

As I sat on the floor, amidst scraps of paper, and crumbs I hadn't yet cleaned up from lunch (or maybe they were still from breakfast), a few random socks, and more toy trains--and cobwebs--than I knew could exist in one house, B looked at me and said,

I was really lucky to get you, mommy.

Thankless job?

I don't think so.


But I still may unionize.