It’s happened yet again—my home is pristine. I’ve managed to find time to organize everything, scrub every surface, and for a fleeting moment, it shines. The air carries a synthetic scent reminiscent of the rainforest. We can lounge on the couch without our clothes becoming a magnet for enough cat fur to fill a decorative pillow. Everyone goes to bed on freshly made sheets, clad in clean pajamas.
And all this comes at the steep cost of my entire day, during which I should have engaged with my children, but instead, they’ve been parked in front of the television. Not to mention the hours I pour into this task over several days, often extending into an entire weekend.
The kicker? I have two young kids, and by morning, the place is a complete disaster once more. It’s enough to make any woman retreat into a life of housecoats and incessant stress.
No one openly admits to embracing the role of a housewife anymore. I didn’t sign up to be the homemaker—my choice was to be a stay-at-home mom. The title has changed, but the expectations have only grown. My duties extend beyond maintaining a clean house; I’m responsible for preparing nutritious meals, which involve chopping endless amounts of vegetables. I must engage with my kids and treasure fleeting moments with them as they grow up so quickly, yet somehow, not quickly enough.
Housekeeping in the 1950s seemed simpler, didn’t it? Women back then weren’t burdened by the myriad of expectations we face today. Dinner was often a simple casserole, and kids entertained themselves exploring the neighborhood until it was time to return home. But that’s a topic for another time.
I am someone who thrives in a tidy environment. However, my home is often a whirlwind of chaos, and my mental state is directly linked to the level of messiness around me. By the time I finally restore order, I’m left utterly drained, barely able to relax for a few moments.
So I’m declaring it: the time has come. I should have made this decision long ago.
I’m hiring a housekeeper. Absolutely.
I want to be a mother. I want to create wholesome meals for my family. I want to carve out time for myself to exercise, so I don’t feel stiff as I age. Perhaps even take a shower without feeling guilty. Yet, all these desires are sidelined by the relentless upkeep of our home, and I’m weary of prioritizing these essential aspects of my life last—especially when some of them involve self-care.
Every two weeks, a professional will clean my home, tending to baseboards, vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing bathrooms, and washing windows. Someone else will handle the dusting and disinfecting. I’ll still manage the daily upkeep, but without the overwhelming burden of the large tasks looming over me.
I’ve contemplated this decision numerous times but always hesitated. It felt extravagant to spend money on chores I could do myself. Yet, here’s the reality: I’m not doing them. The likelihood of my habits changing anytime soon is slim. However, my day-to-day life could improve significantly if I’m relieved of the nagging guilt of chores that distract me from bonding with my children or pursuing my passions.
While we aren’t wealthy, I can adjust my budget to make this feasible. I am determined to make it work.
Women often place immense pressure on each other and themselves to be constantly productive, which inevitably leads to burnout. I refuse to let my health and happiness be sacrificed at the altar of household cleanliness.
I will harbor no guilt or shame. Instead, I will embrace the elation of having extra time in my days for pursuits that matter to me (spoiler: it won’t involve dusting).
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In summary, I’ve resolved to hire a housekeeper to alleviate the burden of household chores, allowing me to focus on what truly matters: being a present mother and taking care of myself.

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