I find this somewhat amusing because, compared to most American women, I'm June Cleaver. Who else makes homemade cards, makes dinner with a main dish and veggies every night, washes underwear by hand on a regular basis, and steams the floor once a week? I suppose the criticism works in my favor because the Italians never let the inept American do anything, so I mostly get to clear the table, set the table, and watch as they prepare everything. Not bad, eh?
Still, when my in-laws criticize how I'm cleaning or cooking, even if they tell me in a nice way, I get steamed. I never say anything but the anger lives in the pit of my belly. When my husband criticizes my housework, which he rarely does, I get hurt. Sometimes, I cry. I can't help it. I feel like when he says that I'm making a mistake because I didn't unroll the sleeves of his shirt, he is saying that I'm a bad wife. My head knows that is not the case. But my heart says otherwise. And the tears flow.
When I try to talk to my husband about it, we usually just argue because he thinks everyone, including and perhaps especially him, is simply trying to help me and that I'm overreacting. Perhaps, he's right.
Still, I can't help but feeling that he and his family and friends are judging me and saying that my way of doing things is wrong. I tire of having to conform to their way, and contemplate laundry rebellion. I miss my dryer and a world where people will look at you funny for ironing underwear and not the other way around.
Then, at some point, my husband asks me to make his favorite butternut squash soup and chicken, which only I can make for him, and I feel better. The circle of criticism ends, but somewhere along the line it will start again. For now, however, I'll enjoy the peace of feeling capable.
How do you deal with in-laws and spouses who criticize your housework?