Feminist Musings of a SAHM with a Steam Mop

Yesterday, we were supposed to get walloped with a huge snowstorm, "supposed to" being the operative word here. It did not happen, yet my boys were home with me for the day. It was quite lovely because I had a terrible night of sleep and got to hang out in bed for half the morning while Brent entertained Jackson. And then, as my afternoon fibro fog began to hit me, I got to take a nap. God bless my husband; he is a good man. (Note: I did manage to get our oven self-cleaned and the racks washed; that was my great achievement of the day.)

Today, my energy is still low, but better than it was yesterday. Today it was my turn to be "on" in the morning for Jackson's two hour delay. (I will say, this whole county school system VA has going is a crock...They might have gotten a few inches of snow west of us, but we had literally sunny skies and a few puddles this morning. C'mon, FCPS. You can do better than this!)

I digress. Jackson accidentally dropped a glass cup this morning, leading to a full-on attack of my kitchen floors. After removing him from the glass fragments, I swept. I vacuumed. I took him to school and then called Brent.

A dear neighbor of my allowed me to borrow her Steam Mop weeks back and I literally fell in love with it. I mean, covet city here! So, while everything was removed from the kitchen, I called Brent with my request to purchase our very own Steam Mop. I'd done my homework and found that the cheapest I could get the one that had the best reviews was at the Exchange...and that's not far from Jackson's school, right?

So, with his...permission (?)...I purchased it. The fact that I had to ask "permission" is perhaps a bit haunting in and of itself. Brent and I have always had the mindset that we both work; he just happens to do it outside the house while I'm in it. Yet, we have recently committed to each other that we would be more cautious in our spending. So, this being a larger-ticketed item, I felt like we had to have a conversation about it. Let's refer to it as a financial agreement instead of "permission" then.

Hurried home. Read the instructions. Got myself to steaming the tile flooring that I LOATHE. But with this steam mop, I could literally do it all day. The instant gratification I felt when I saw the floor cleaned without having to be on my hands and knees scrubbing for an hour was worth every single cent I spent on that beloved Steam Mop of mine.

This must have been what it was like for my grandmother to have a washer and dryer instead of having to wash clothes by hand and put them on a line, right? Or, the liberation it felt to put dirty dishes into a machine that would clean and sanitize them in an hours time...I just never thought it could make me so...simply put, happy.

This domesticated, stay-at-home Mama (whose husband still questions whether or not I'm a feminist) has a heart that is filled with joy today. Part of me feels like I'm taking a step backwards, considering most feminists would believe that I have given up that stance by being a homemaker, plain and simple. Let alone that something as domesticated as a steam mop could fill my bucket...

The feminist in me questions how an appliance could do this. It brings up all sorts of negative feelings. Part of me feels like the money could have been spent in so many other ways that would benefit my family or others. Part of me feels a bit guilty-  I am overjoyed over an item, a thing, that in another country might be worth a month's worth of meals? And still, another part of me screams This is what your life of wanting to go to graduate school for Women's Studies has become? 

But, is that what this is all about?

Honestly, I don't believe so. I think it's the simple liberation that my floors can be cleaned and I won't have to scrub them until my knuckles are raw. The fact that in my current state of body, I can spend more time focused on the things that bring simplicity to my life and allow me to focus on my family, not being such a Martha. And, that in this day and age, I have the CHOICE to stay at home, that I am not forced by society to do so...that is okay with the feminist inside of me.