Am I mean mommy? I hope so. I remember dusting and having to wipe down the legs of tables and chairs and the piano for my mom. My sister, Anne, and I would pull chairs up and wash, rinse, dry and put away the dishes after dinner. My mom would have us help her pull weeds in her rock garden and my dad would have us help him pull weeds in his vegetable garden. When we turned 10 we were entrusted with mowing our yard. By 12 we were babysitting our brothers.
Paul and I went on a missions trip with the youth at our church one year to Bogota, Colombia. One of the things we did to help a church was "mow" the property where their new church was going to be built. And by mow, I mean take scythes and cut long grass then bag it up in very hot weather. Another couple that was with us paid one teen, Kyle Brabaw, my brother Will and me probably the best compliment. They told us we weren't afraid of hard work. Our parents trained us well. We didn't whine, we didn't take unnecessary breaks, and we didn't quit. We worked through the heat, though the sweat, and we worked hard together.
I don't think we do our kids any favors when we do all the chores so they can go play. I know it's hard to let the 6 year old mop the floor but if the kid wants to mop, give him the mop! I have to encourage Travis even when I know it's not getting done to my standards. I have to let Peyton whine and throw himself on the ground and still make him pick up the toys before we can go for a walk to the park. It's definitely faster to put the Barbie doll away yourself but Paul had to teach Isabel that she can't choose to not obey. It took over 5 timeouts and rivers of tears for that little girl to realize she could put the Barbie in the bin. Then, if you can imagine, she was all smiles and high fives cause she got the job done.
All I'm trying to say today is: Work is not a dirty four letter word. No matter what your kids say.