Success

Today, for some reason, I feel like I've "arrived."  I'm here.  I did the decadent luxury of all luxuries, dreamed of by little girls and housewives everywhere - I hired help.  Yes, that's right, I hired someone to clean my house.  I can't even explain the delight I faced when entering into my home, that was meticulous before we moved in four years ago, and hasn't been ever since.  I am not a house-cleaner.  I hear it skips every two generations, since my grandma and my mom are both the most immaculate people I've ever known.  The house is brighter, the windows are clean; she left the blinds wide open so the sunlight is pouring through the usually-dark living room, making me realize the many things that made me fall in love with this house four years ago.

Along with the feeling that my house is clean (before my mother-in-law comes to visit next week!), I have this immense sense of relief.  Staunch feminist that I am, I gave up years ago nagging husbands to help with housework.  The ones I've chosen are not wired for it, and I've chosen to stop fighting.  My husband now, however, has many great qualities that warrant me not nagging to help with housework.

Now the other side of the feminist perspective that I will address is this - how could I hire someone to seemingly repress them into the things that I don't want to do?  Is this another form of slavery?  I argue that it's not.  And here's why.  I hired a woman who runs a business and helps other women with gainful, dignified employment.  We all have talents, and cleaning houses should not be dismissed as anything less than vitally important.  And helping women succeed in business makes me feel good.  I think it's good for everyone involved.  I can continue to work at a job that I make more complex, and chip away at my PhD degree with the comfort that my house is clean, and I'm supporting independent women.  I couldn't be more at peace tonight as I bake a decadent chocolate cake for a dinner party tomorrow with fabulous friends.