I am going to admit something I am afraid will cause much controversy… something my own mother might just faint over, if she ever heard me say…

I miss my lady. Pre-pandemic, I had a lady… Okay, she was not just a LADY, she was / is our housekeeper. She is the person that kept my house from falling apart. She is the sweetest most thoughtful lady. When she saw I was behind on laundry, she did it. When she encountered rotting veggies in the crisper, she threw them out. I didn’t have to tell her what to do, she anticipated my needs and took care of things for me. I was working full time and rushing home to make dinner and finish homework’s and projects and she made sure my kids and I had a clean home to come home to. She made sure we all had nice clean beds perfectly puffed and tucked when we went to bed. She made sure no corner of my house had a spider web or speck of dust. She left nothing unturned or put back into place.

“She was more than a housekeeper, she kept ME sane and restored balance in my home (and mind) when things started to pile up or I felt were getting out hand.”

As a Latina, it is somewhat taboo to admit that we can’t do it all. Even though, in Mexico it is very common to have help daily or multiple times a week. But here, it feels like you should not admit that it is extremely difficult to work, raise kids, make freshly prepared meals, and still keep a tidy house. We should be able to do it all while tending to our families, because our mother’s did it, and their mother’s before them. Outright admission categorizes you as privileged, rich, or for lack of a better word,  “fresa” (a slang word in Spanish meaning, better than and too superficial to be concerned with the matter). I am here to admit, I can’t do it on my own. Or, rather, I could, but not as well. Not mentally, or physically really. Mentally, attempting to clean while the kids are making another mess somewhere else is exhausting. Tallying how long its been since you last scrubbed the tub added to the stress of work “to do’s” and keeping up with the kids schedules takes a mental toll. Not to mention, I am a terrible house keeper. I will straight up avoid looking at the corners, lest I run into a spider web! As I was vacuuming earlier, I found a tiny toy. My immediate response was not to take it to the playroom and place it in the bin where all the other tiny toy dinosaurs live, I immediately threw it across the room out of my way, to save that problem for another day. I sweep and mop “nomas en donde ve la suegra” (“only where a mother in law would look”), not behind or under if I can avoid it. Honestly, my refrigerator only gets cleaned about once a month. Usually AFTER trash day, never before. I’ve learned that there is a big difference between having a passion for having and maintaining a clean house and A C T U A L L Y having to clean it.

When I was in college, I remember reading an essay “I Want A Wife” by Judy Brady. If you haven’t read it, you can read it here. It’s from the 70’s and it’s fantastic, it still holds up and makes you think about our roles as wives and mothers.  Even though I wasn’t married at the time, I remember thinking… “Wow, having a wife would be so awesome…” Honestly, if you are a wife, and you haven’t read it, you should… Ill link it again HERE. Really, I insist, go read it… I’ll pause while you do…

So you see, my housekeeper was the closest thing I had to having a wife. She has been with our family since Vie was born, 11 years ago. I was suffering from bad post-partum depression. My aunt came to visit one day and upon taking one look at me, and how overwhelmed I was, she insisted my husband get me some help. I was ashamed for a long time to admit I needed help or that I had help. I especially didn’t tell my mom! I just avoided that conversation and scheduled her around her visits. Our housekeeper wouldn’t come every day, just every other week, and in the seasons where I was working full time, she would come once a week. The name “housekeeper” falls short honestly. She was more than a housekeeper, she kept ME sane and restored balance in my home (and mind) when things started to pile up or I felt were getting out hand. Once a week, or once every other week, I would come home to a house that was immaculate. I imagine that’s what it would be like to come home as a husband. Worry free, and stepping onto the lines of a freshly vacuumed carpet.

[I took this photo, in sheer appreciation, on March 9th 2020. I looked at the carpet and felt so thankful and blessed, that I had to take a picture. Not sure why or what for. I did not know that this would be the last time I would come home from work, to a perfectly clean home, pre-pandemic. ]

Since being home, I have designated every Monday as “cleaning day”. That’s the day where I rush around the house bitterly resentful at those not equally motivated and laying around not helping. As I’m vacuuming those lines in the carpet, that someone will no doubt run across in 30 seconds flat… I think about my special lady, and I send out a prayer for her. Praying for her safe return to me because, God, do I miss my wife, and I am not afraid to admit it.

Dedicated to all those special ladies straightening and tidying our crowns so that we can achieve more.

Do you have a special someone that helps keep your crown up?