Join the Mommune
from the vast digital collection of public domain images from the NY Public Library
I should have seen it coming when I planned the midday birthday party for my friend last month: you sit ten women with teenage children in a circle, serve them a fizzy cocktail and some coffee cake, and the talk soon turns competitive. Over what? Not college destinations or SAT scores, please don’t insult us. We fight about who is less appreciated at home.
I had a meeting last week so I cooked the meal and left it for them – after planning and shopping for it first. Then I came home at 11 pm from my meeting and all the dishes were still on the table, and the leftovers were sitting on the countertop. I ended up cleaning up the meal I didn’t even eat.
I woke up and all the dishes were still in the dishrack from the night before. I said, ‘Why weren’t the dishes put away?’ They said, ‘Oh, was it my night to do that?’ I DON’T KNOW WHOSE NIGHT IT WAS BUT IT’S BEEN WRITTEN ON THE CALENDAR SINCE YOU WERE FIVE SO DID IT OCCUR TO YOU TO CHECK?
It’s almost like they think I’ve instructed them: whatever you do, please don’t remove the undies or socks from the pants before you throw them in the hamper, and for god’s sake never wear a garment more than once. And if I do ask them to fold the clothes, I find piles of clothes in random spots all over the house for the rest of the week.
I actually have three teenagers. One of them is my husband.
Virtually every woman in that room works at a paid job – no one has loads of extra time for housework (though we did manage to carve out time for a weekday bitch session, I’ll give you that.) Even if we did, there are basic principles of equity and respect at stake, examples of fairness we want to set for our children in the rapidly decreasing time they still have at home. None of us is married to a monster or raising them. It’s just the frustration of saying the same thing to seemingly deaf ears, over and over and over: clean up after yourself. Consider cleaning up after someone else on occasion.
I leaned over to my friend Trish and said, “What we need is a commune, for moms, where work is divided equitably. You cook the dinner, you don’t have to clean it up. You do laundry this week, you’re off the hook the next week.”
Trish said, “A Mommune!”
The room got as quiet (as is possible with ten women who’ve been drinking fizzy luncheon cocktails.) Then the brainstorming began.
Rules for the Mommune
The Golden Rule: Equitable distribution of all tasks. Upon this rule hang all the laws and the prophecies.
The second rule is like unto the first: No one is ever, ever reminded to do a task. They understand their obligations, and do them willingly, at the appropriate time. Sometimes even early.
For one hour each day, members will sit and compliment each other, citing specific details. “Your hair is so shiny!” “I love how you paired that skirt and boots!” “You’re really good at recommending books.”
Occasionally, outsiders like George Clooney can come in to provide extra compliments. (I told them about how George Clooney was raffling off an actual 45 second compliment session on Omaze.com, to benefit the ONE campaign to end AIDS. You’d sit with George, and he’d compliment you for 45 seconds straight. Pretty sure my friends and I broke the Omaze site later that afternoon and also cured AIDS. You’re welcome!)
Conversations are conducted with a full serving of eye contact. At the first hint of a conversational opening gambit, devices are lowered, screen sides down and on “do not disturb” mode, to the floor. Attention is paid to the speaker until the conversation winds down. Only then may devices be retrieved.
There will be so many dance parties.
Family visits are encouraged, if only so members can hear how doing everything themselves back at home is going, anyway. Oh, you don’t know where the laundry soap is? That’s a shame. How long have you had to wear dirty underpants? Don’t forget to check the insides of the pants on your bedroom floor if you need more.
We’re looking for a plot of land on the coast, maybe near Bolinas or at least near some hot springs. Let us know if you know of a self-maintaining giant cabin for sale.
In the meantime, what rules would you add to the Mommune?
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