Raised in a strange house?

A recent post by Angela about the stresses of parenting brought to mind a number of memories from childhood.

When I talk to other folks, outside the fire service family, they are surprised to learn that I do a majority of the cooking in our house. When they ask why I simply state that I can and enjoy cooking and it helps my wife who is often busy throughout the day. Growing up it was not uncommon for Dad to cook so I simply learned that Dads cook.
We were taught, indirectly, that every member of the house chips in to keep the home running smoothly. Although I can't recall ever seeing my father hunched over a pile of laundry, I don't have that memory of my mother either. Many of the chores that kept the house going were done when we were gone at school or later, done by us.

Allowance was never an automatic thing, it was earned. Laundry folding and doing dishes was a given but extra tasks in the household, such as yardcare, was where the allowance was earned.

I recall that Angela and I would rotate dish duty on odd and even days later in school life and often fought about who had a night off recently and who's turn it really was. Vacuuming upstairs versus downstairs, dusting, cleaning toys, books, etc from around the house was all alternated. Back then I thought it was just to keep us busy, but it was teaching us to appreciate what we had and how to keep it well maintained.

When Dad would come home from work to chores unfinished he would be angry. He may had only been upset, but it always came across as angry. On days he was at work I would make excuses not to do my chores and then dread walking home from school and seeing his truck in front of the house, knowing my afternoon would include mowing the lawn and housework. From that experience I learned that procrastination may give you a day off today, but tomorrow will be bad. Spread out your duties and each task alone is simple. Although walking home to find Dad was working an overtime was like a dream come true.

I recall these events simply because being raised in a fire service family meant things ran differently than other guys' homes. I saw my dad throughout the week, during the day. He couldn't coach my soccer teams because of his schedule, but who wants their dad to be the coach anyway? Too much pressure.

When Mom started transcription, I remember she had a late shift and we would be awakened from bed and Dad would drive to pick mom up at the hospital. I hated it. I hated it a lot. But it was that sacrifice that allowed her to succeed and work from home that allowed us so much more in the years following. Without those few weeks (It may have been less or more, I was sleepy) the rest of our school days would have been filled with keys on necklaces and an empty house after school.

My parents were a confusing pair to say the least, I only ever saw them fight once and it was only a verbal altercation at that. I heard from friends that their parents fought all the time. Mine said they'd talk upstairs, later and that was that. They solved their problems in private so Angela and I didn't have to deal with it. Confusing at the time, genius now.

Without going on in greater detail, I'll sum up. Parenting is tough already, despite the challenges ahead. Keeping house is difficult as well, without the headaches family adds. Put on top of that the responsibilities of a job, business, trade and it gets ridiculous. I believe in sharing the load, everyone doing what they can, when they can to keep the home on a balance of some kind. I think it is this spirit that led me to a wife who thinks the same way. Sure she won't mow the lawn, but I won't be breast feeding. I may not always vacuum, but I will be doing the repairs around the house.

We're a strange lot, but I wouldn't have it any other way.