HOUSEKEEPER CRISIS
PART 1:
I’m not an expert in many areas, but trust me on the subject of domestic help. Since my first child was born – the moment I went from barely keeping it together to losing it altogether – I’ve had a steady string of helpers. I’ve lost count, but my kids tell me we’ve had 13, from Horrible Hilda to Amazing Amanda. Some lasted three days, some three years. Lupe, who left two months ago, hung in for five years, before realizing how short life is and how shallow sanity.
Now I need help – again. Unlike the people I live with, I can’t function in a messy house. To me, a clean home is the foundation of a beautiful home. What’s the point of having a nicely furnished house if it looks as if the Union Cavalry went through it on horseback with paintball guns?
Lupe was a house angel compared with some doozies we’ve had. There was Josephine the typhoid carrier. Andrea, for whom we served as a domestic violence shelter. We became a taxi service for Martina, whose husband lost his license after a DUI conviction. The short-lived Mareilla liked to take home (and return) my nicer lingerie (creepy). Some had odd medical theories: Urine from a nursing baby is good for your skin. This explains why Elba wiped my daughter’s wet diapers on her face. We unwittingly got involved in every brand of man trouble, including polygamy, children out of wedlock and probation.
That aside, paid help remains my vice. As any mother knows, when a baby arrives, something else goes: career, home-cooked meals, decent-looking hair, sleep, nights out, the housework, or all the above. When I hit my child-triggered melting point, I chose to work, but less. Thus, like nearly three-fourths of U.S. mothers (64 percent with kids under 6; 78 percent of those with kids 6-17), I work for pay. Granted, my home office lets me have flexible hours, but when I’m not writing a story I want to be with my kids, not scrubbing the toilet. So I pay someone to clean the house. I know there are women better than I who can do it all and still be a woman their husband wants to come home to, but my husband didn’t marry one.
Whenever he complains about the cost of domestic help, or the fact that a woman he barely knows is turning his underwear right side out, I remind him that housekeepers are cheaper than therapy and a lot cheaper than divorce. Still, he likes to point out that his perfect mother raised five kids with no paid help. Yeah, but what she remembers about her kids’ early years was pressing her nose against the front door to look out the peephole for her husband to come home. When he did, she turned the kids over to him and sat on the curb with a glass of wine. With all due respect, that’s no way to go through life. I have a (Stanford-Ph.D.-in-psychology) friend who’s a marriage counselor. When couples with kids aren’t getting along, she prescribes housekeeper therapy. Miraculously, the couples argue less and women have more energy for, um, other stuff.
“What gets me,” she says, “is when their marriages get better, they let go of the help!”
Since Lupe moved on, I’m looking for someone to clean weekly. Fortunately, I’m an expert:
When looking for domestic help, ask friends for recommendations, then check references. This is no guarantee. What works in someone else’s house may not work in yours.
The most important quality a housekeeper brings is good chemistry. Chemistry is when you’re behaving like an idiot and your housekeeper acts as if you’re perfectly normal.
Know what you want. A weekly cleaning lady? Someone to help with the kids part time or full time? A nanny/ housekeeper combined? Will this person live in or live out? (Live out costs more.) Speak English? Drive?
Define your priorities. I had a friend who rethought her plan the day she found herself washing a sinkful of dishes, while her help played with her kids in the yard.
Explain all you expect up front. Adding to the task list after the person starts working either raises resentment or the price or both.
Know you can’t teach standards. If you like your sheets tucked in with hospital corners and the help doesn’t tuck at all, lower your standards, make the bed yourself, or hire someone else. As when choosing a mate, don’t pick a fixer. Housekeepers don’t improve over time.
Join me next week to see how the kids react to the new domestic policy.
Marni Jameson is a nationally syndicated columnist who lives in the Denver area. You may reach her at marnij@comcast.net.
