Danielle Raine - Housework Blues: A Survival Guide- How to Cope with the Mental and Emotional Challenge of Keeping a Home

How this book came to be

When I was just a little girl...

I asked my mother, What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?

But she didnt say, Que sera, sera She said, If you're planning to marry and have children, you'd better learn to like cooking and cleaning.

So I decided on the spot that, no, I would not marry or have children because I was meant for better things than the drudgery of housewifery. (Well, it was the eighties, when women could Have it all!...)

This approach went swimmingly until one day, many years later, I woke up to discover that I had indeed acquired both husband and children. But that was fine, as these were a source of great joy and happiness.

Less joyful was the role Id unwittingly landed, as House Slave.

I didn't remember that clause in the marriage vows. Nor any warning in the many motherhood manuals I devoured during pregnancy. Nobody warns you about all the sheer volume of domestic stuff.

So, its possible that this book may fill that role - serving as a gentle warning to any woman about to enter the homemaking phase of her life. Mostly, though, its for women like me who are already there - bewildered, frustrated and wondering how the hell to cope.

Housework - it does your head in!

For the majority of my married life (eleven years at the time of this writing), one phrase could sum up my attitude to housework It does my head in.

It wasnt my knees that suffered, as in days of yore, or fingers, worked to the bone. In fact, it wasnt technically my head, in the physical sense, but more accurately my mind. After much anguish, guilt and soul-searching, I discovered that my resentment of domestic strife was actually a mental issue .

For a while I pretended it was merely a time thing. I used to say, I never find the time to mop the floor. Yet there would always be time to read books (often, ironically, about housework), or watch Desperate Housewives , or sit in cafes, perusing magazines about beautiful homes. So the problem clearly wasnt a lack of hours in the day.

From there I declared it a lack of inclination Ive got better things to do than dust ornaments et cetera... Yet, deep down, I yearned for a beautiful, clean and tidy home. I envied others who seemed to manage it. I was wracked with guilt and shame, should anyone call unexpectedly, when the house was a mess (which was any day with a y in it). So, neither was it a case of indifference not only did I care, I cared deeply.

Gradually, I suspected that the problem lay in my self-image. Being a product of the Have It All generation, perhaps it was a feminist thing? When it came to housework, my feminist tendencies were roaring, Why should women do it? But on top of this, I discovered a psychological torment ( must it be done over and over and over? ) which progressed to an existential one ( must it be done at all? ).

After much pondering (housework at least gives you plenty of time to think), the solution eventually dawned on me. I realised that the only difference between me and other women - who seemed to cope with housework and stay sane - was one of attitude .

Its all in the mind

I concluded that my brain just wasnt wired to merely get on with the domestic stuff. It needed valid reasons to cope with the repetition, the injustice and the futility. And after recognising this mental aspect, it became easier to explain the emotional issues, i.e. the housework blues. After all, if your thoughts about housework are predominantly negative, theyre unlikely to lead to feelings of joy, motivation or even inclination.

So I began a quest. I sought new perspectives which would help me cope with the task at hand. Gradually, through books, chats with friends, the internet, even overheard snippets of conversation, I came across some real gems of insight. These werent complex theories. Quite often they were just an alternative way to view the problem.