Housework seemed like a stupid waste of time.

And I hated wastes of time and stupidity, so I triply hated housework.

I was torn between wanting to be a good, competent homemaker and thinking that the state of my bedroom or the kitchen just wasn’t a big deal. I could get meals on the table, keep things stocked, and complete a project just fine. But the day-in day-out routine tasks were a drag.

I’m not going to say that I love those routines now or that I totally rock them, because I don’t. But I am learning to love them.

And it all started back then, when my third born was just a baby, and I was reading novels.