Chores as Therapy

Theories on the role of chores can be divided into two categories: chores to teach responsibility (involve charts and names and usually some sort of reinforcement for completing the task) and chores to teach obedience (“Cale do this,” with a punisher for failing to complete the task). We were a chores for obedience family.

But they can serve a greater purpose then simply being a way to teach life lessons. Chores can also serve as a form of sensory integration therapy.

• For example, for years and years I could not stand the sound of the vacuum. I would run up the stairs and hide my head under a pillow rather than listen to the vacuum. But once my mom had me start vacuuming (first with headphones with music, then headphones with silence, then no headphones), I became accustomed to the noise. Improving on the situation was the fact that I was now in control of the noise. If I needed a break, I could turn the vacuum off for a few minutes; if I was tolerating it well I could vacuum an additional area of the house to avoid needing to do it later. The noise of the vacuum was now only being played on my terms, which helped me to adjust to the sound.

• Another example is meatloaf preparation. If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you know I have serious consistency issues. And meatloaf preparation involves the touching of sauce-covered cold ground beef. But I discovered after one encounter with the meatloaf, that I could prepare it way better than my mother. So slowly but surely I moved from ingredient fetcher to meatloaf preparer and the quality of the meatloaf improved while my aversion to it substantially decreased. I’ve now become quite fond of preparing meatloaf.

Chores can also be used to improve fine motor skills.

• Ever since I was young, I was the official mozzerella cheese cutter for chicken parmesan and lasagna. I will admit, my knife work isn’t pretty. I flunked cutting skills in kindergarten, and with good reason. But after 15 years of 3X a week cheese cutting, my slices could easily be confused with that of an experts (ok, not exactly, but still…).
• In a house with two boys who roughhouse, buttons never cling to clothes very long. A decade ago, my mom declared me the official button-sewer. Those tiny little needles with that very frayed thread made this task an intense challenge. But with plenty of practice I have prevailed.

So, as much as I hate having to stop whatever I’m doing, I’m also well aware that every guy’s crazy for a man who can cook and sew.