Dishes: my arch nemesis

Like just about every other human on the planet, I despise doing the dishes. It's the one chore that no matter how well you keep up on them, they always multiply and come back. Having small kids makes them multiply faster because kids seem to think that using a new cup for EVERY single different beverage, a bowl for each chip and a plate for every pancake is okay.

I also am married to a man who grew up in a house where his mother did EVERYTHING and the kids did nothing in regards to cleaning. So he will leave a plate, unrinsed next to the sink so the melted cheese, and whatever sauce was on it gets crusted and hard to get off, and sees nothing wrong with it because he's not the one who has to wash them (I'll get into the fact that he believes that a SAHP should do everything and never ask the working spouse for any type of help at all, in another blog).

All of that aside, I don't mind picking up the messes that happen in the living room or the kids' rooms because, well that's just not as hard to me as dishes. Even if their rooms are trashed, I would rather do that than wash four plates in the sink.  I'm weird in the fact that I enjoy doing laundry and vacuuming. I've always liked these two chores. Vacuuming up crumbs is just entertaining! The popping sounds always make me feel like I'm actually doing something and seeing an awesome result.

Having a clean kitchen means that I'm more willing to cook and bake. I may not know very much about cooking/baking, but everything I make is pretty damn good. Old family recipes and my willingness to try new things mean that my kids almost never eat processed food. The few times that they do end up eating crap is when my kitchen looks like this:

I always feel embarrassed that it gets to this point, but truthfully this is only two days of me not doing the dishes. I blame depression and the fact that I have a spouse who doesn't care about this partner's mental issues. But it's also my own laziness and inability to get past my own crap. I expect my husband to see this mountain of dishes and think "Jen probably needs help, I'll do these dishes and give her a break." because that's what I would think if the roles were reversed. But he doesn't think about me like that. And I need to stop expecting him to. So despite  depression, the wonderfulness of being a woman, and having a list of other things I need to do, I'm going to go do the dishes and stop waiting for someone to help me. Because clearly that help is never going to come.