As the "baby of the family," I was actually pretty spoiled without many expectations other than to do my best in school. On the other hand, I was a pretty quiet child who didn't particularly like messes, so I didn't create many. My bedroom was generally well organized because I liked having things in their proper places.
As I got older, my mother did teach me how to help with some household chores. I loved running the vacuum, but probably didn't do a very good job of it. I believe I only ran it in the open spaces. I still remember the day she taught me to dust. I was in kindergarten. She taught me to aim the Pledge at whatever I was going to dust, push the button on top of the can and then wipe it with the dust cloth. What she DIDN'T teach me was to make sure the hole where the spray came out was pointed at the object I was dusting. (Cans didn't have the safety caps they do now to direct the spray.) As you've probably guessed, I sprayed the Pledge directly in my eyes! I don't think I finished dusting that day...but I learned to be much more cautious the next time!
When we moved to the farm in Wisconsin, I joined 4H. Not being too enthused about raising animals to take to the fair, I took the homemaking route and learned the "proper" way to do dishes: glasses first, silverware second, then plates and bowls and finally cookware (with the greasiest/messiest pans last). I still get twitches if I see someone wash glasses after the messy plates!
I also began to learn to sew under the direction of my aunt, Miem. I got better at sewing after 1-1/2 years of sewing classes in Jr. High and began to make a lot of my own clothes. I suppose that was a financial contribution to the family as it was pretty cheap to sew your own clothes. I even made myself a coat in high school!
On occasion, I would try to help in the barn at milking time. I would try to carry the milk pails from a cow to pour into the milk can, but unless the cow was a poor milker, the pails were generally too heavy for me to carry and then lift to pour into the can. My dad taught me how to scrape the manure off the barn floor into the trough that cleaned the manure out of the barn, but I think I purposely didn't do a very good job of it so he wouldn't ask me to do that anymore. I mean, I loved being close to my dad and feeling like I was helping, but let's face it. Manure STINKS and I did NOT want to scrape and shovel manure on a regular basis. So, the best way I learned to help at milking time was feeding the cows. We had a rolling bin that had ground feed in it. Each cow received a specific amount of feed and I had to know which cows got 1, 1-1/2 or 2 scoops. I had some good conversations with the cows as I walked to each one and they said "thank you" with their beautiful, big brown eyes. Maybe that's when I fell in love with brown eyes....
Long about 6th grade, when I actually started to worry about what my hair looked like and I learned how to wash and "set" it, I also started to do my mom's hair for her between visits to the beauty parlor for a perm.She had thin, really straight hair and when the perms faded, it could be quite the challenge to make it look good. When I would try to curl my daughter, Sami's hair when she was little, I was always reminded of doing my mom's hair. That same thin, straight hair was best just put into a ponytail!
My real family contributions came later than that though, when I was around 14 and my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn't realize she was doing it at the time, but my mother began to train me to take over for her. She taught me how to keep the books for my father's construction jobs, how to pay the bills and how to balance the checkbook. She taught me how to do the laundry and clean the bathroom. She taught me how to babysit my niece and nephew (Dan & Gail) who lived downstairs, which really taught me how to be a mom. She taught me about responsibility for my Grandpa and aunt, DeeDee who lived three blocks away. As she got sicker, I learned patient care as I had to help her to the bathroom or change the bandages covering the holes in her breast that burned through to her back from the radiation therapy.
By the time Mom passed away, 8 days before my 16th birthday, I was effectively running the house and when I got my driver's license a few short months later, I was also doing all the banking, weekly grocery shopping and other household errands after school and on the weekends. As I mentioned responsibility for Grandpa and Dee, I also made sure DeeDee got to the grocery store, her bank and doctor appointments. (Grandpa passed away three months before Mom did.)
It's funny. Writing all this makes it sound like I did a lot; like I had a lot of responsibility and contributed a lot. It never really felt like that though. It was my home. It was my family. I can't imagine NOT doing those things that I did, especially after my mom got sick. But, now as I look at my grandchildren, I can't imagine them DOING all the things that I accepted as a part of life. Comparing ages with my granddaughters, I can't imagine Abigail scraping manure in the barn or feeding the cows. I can't imagine Soni doing Sami's hair. And I can't imagine Andi, Cari or Sarai being responsible for running the household or maintaining the family budget. I have no doubt that they could, I'm just thankful none of them have to...
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