Hearthkeeping more than just dusting

I sit in a frigid waiting room, waiting for that rather unappealing of medical screenings, a mammogram. A woman hands me some forms on a clipboard.

I sit down, peek around at the other women awaiting this fate and unsnap my purse in search of a pen. There's my wallet, checkbook, cell phone, a plastic Burger King toy, children's sunscreen, gum wrappers, a pack of tissues, hand sanitizer, Target receipts, a small notebook.

No pen.

Two years ago, I left my post as a feature writer for this newspaper to stay home with my two young children. Now where is the journalist who would never, ever have left home without pen and paper?

I am sure she is still here if only I can find her.

Like a man asking for directions, I return to the woman behind the window. Does she have a pen to spare?

She hands one over. I slink back to my chair.

When my husband and I decided that I should leave work for a while, I called one of my favorite people in Charleston, Bert Keller, the pastor of Circular Congregational Church and a recent empty nester.

Over coffee, he recalled when he and his wife, Lucille, made this same decision.

She became not so much a homemaker, he said, but a hearthkeeper.

A hearthkeeper. I liked that.

A hearth, literally, is the fireplace floor. But it's also a place of warmth and energy at the center of a home.

And so, as Bert put it, the hearthkeeper "is the living center of the home."

Besides, stay-at-home mom sounds like someone who sits around at home all day, resting or something that any real life stay-at-home mom knows in fact never, ever happens.

Over these two years, I have had time to take my 4-year-old son to the playground, not just around Wal-Mart in a shopping cart. We go to the library, not just the grocery store. I run my errands before my 9-year-old gets off the bus. I have time to take her to dance classes. Most days, I cook dinner myself (though some might prefer I not).

I volunteer in my daughter's school library. I bake cupcakes for school parties. I man the book fair. I am a room mom.

Some nights, I even can keep my eyes open after getting the kids in bed long enough to have an uninterrupted chat with my husband.

But to quote "The Cat in the Hat:"

That is not all!

Oh, no.

That is not all ...

Like other hearthkeepers (including those with jobs that pay actual money), I also vacuum, mop, wash clothes, fold clothes, hang clothes, shop for groceries, clean toilets, dust, pick up toys, feed pets, cook, chauffeur and oversee homework.

So on this morning — after getting the kids fed, dressed and off to school — I stare at the kitchen and sigh. I open the dishwasher. The dishes are clean. The sink is full.

I walk to my bedroom and see the laundry basket. Overflowing again.

Upstairs, my 4-year-old son and a buddy have spread a half-million marbles and tiny Star Wars figures around his room in an epic battle to secure the Force. My daughter and her friends have taken every Webkinz she owns and suspended them from her belts with little scraps of paper taped to each.

I'm sure that a better mother than me would see the beauty of kids developing their creativity or some such thing in this mess before me.

But my hearth goes cold.

Where is the reward of cleaning a house that looks like this just hours later? The downside to being home with kids more is that I am home with kids more, and kids make messes.

Nobody around here appreciates a freshly mopped floor. Nobody notices the clean underwear in the drawers. Nobody says thank you for the fridge stocked with groceries.

Where is the glory? The accolades? The appreciation?

Deep down, I know the hearthkeeper's rewards.

But I admit to forgetting at least once a week.

My husband works a lot and does his fair share around the house. So instead, I resolve to write a very, very long list of chores for the kids. It's time for them to step it up.

Now, if I can just find a pen around here.

Contact Jennifer Berry Hawes at 937-5743, jhawes@postandcourier.com or at Features Department, The Post and Courier, 134 Columbus St., Charleston, SC 29403.

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