Boy jobs, girl jobs?

Before we completed the sale on our old house we had to have identity checks to make sure we were not laundering money. They asked me questions about the mortgage. I got them wrong. I don’t know about the mortgage, Ben handles that. So I had to get my passport certified to confirm I have not yet developed a way of illegally making lots of money.

This got me wondering and a bit worrying. It seems old fashioned to be some kind of “kept” woman, but not in a good way. I certainly don’t like to think of myself that way. Images of that “boy jobs and girl jobs” interview that Theresa May gave flashed through my mind. I definitely don’t see us that way.

I’ve been reading a bit lately about mental load. This is the thing that makes doing the shopping easy but writing the shopping list really difficult. I think this is the thing that results in the over whelmed that I mentioned the other day. It’s the brain power required to have an overview of family life so that the swimming things are ready on Thursday, the meals are planned through the week and are suitable for the people who are going to be eating them. It’s remembering when the bins go out and knowing that Myrtle has a school trip on Tuesday, whilst Red’s trip was last week but he has a concert on Tuesday as well. It’s shopping around for the best utility services and managing the mortgage. And that’s why we don’t divide the work of family life along gender lines, or any other lines. We do what we can and between us everything gets done. Everything essential anyway.

I’m very aware that at least at the moment the work is not divided equally. Ben has a full time job, and does the mortgage stuff, the bills, takes the kids up to school, gets up in the night with Birch (not so much lately, yay!) and often helps with the laundry (not the money kind). I do as much as I can and flop into bed at the end of the day. But that’s what it is to be part of a family. You do the best you can, you don’t compare, everything that’s important gets done, not important stuff gets relegated until tomorrow.

My ignorance about the mortgage is not something to be ashamed about although I’ll admit to feeling both embarassed and amused. I don’t need to spend my mental energy on something Ben has got covered. I know enough that if something awful happened I could navigate it at that point. For now there’s plenty to be getting on with. And that’s life.

Hero

Sometimes people wonder if, were they to be caught up in something awful, they would be the one to leap forward and take the bullet, restrain the aggressor, save the masses. Alas not I. Not by instinct anyway.

Quite often when I’m walking home from school with Myrtle and she is zooming along on her scooter I come to a stop and have to consciously urge my legs to move. Heavy legs they are. The reason is that in my mind I have imagined that Myrtle is going to crash and my instinct is to stop dead. My halting progress must be mysterious should anyone look long enough to notice. She never does crash, or at least not in the way I’m expecting but it has led me to the conclusion that if I were caught up in a disaster my instinct would be to freeze.

There’s something similar when a job is multi faceted and seems enormous. My brain freezes and I don’t know what to do. The word for that is overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed by the enormity of a task and my instinct is to freeze.

Things have felt a bit like that this last week, getting all the things out of the old house and into two different places; things we need now to my parents’ house, things we will need later into a friend’s garage. It has been useful to understand how I respond to a big job like that. The most useful thing for me is to ask for a smaller task. Someone tell me where to begin and the ice melts and I can be useful.

I have yet to see Ben overwhelmed. We work well together. He dissects the problem, I’m pleased to do the bits I can do once I can see how to begin. Good teamwork. I think we will need to do some good teamwork on this journey. I’m glad not to be faced with a bullet.