By Josh Katzowitz, WCI Content Director

My parents always had time for everything. They had time to commute to and from work, they had time for their eight-hour work day, they had time to take me to baseball practice and tennis matches, they had time to take my brother to soccer games, they had time to make dinner, they had time to wash their cars, they had time to feed and play with the dog, they had time to go to the gym, they had time to conduct their business at the bank, and they had time to mow the lawn.

I never have time for anything.

OK, neither of those preceding paragraphs is completely true. I’m sure my parents didn’t have time for everything, and I’m not going hard 100% every second I’m awake. But like most other parents you either are or know, much of my life is sucked up by working, chauffeuring my children around to their extracurriculars, feeding and playing with the dog, and never-actually-completely the never-ending chore list that it takes to run a house. And I don’t even have to commute to work.

But I’m not measuring up to the previous generation, and I clearly remember the first time I felt like that. I mowed the lawn for the first couple of years we lived in our current house, but with the kids growing up quickly and with their schedule (meaning my schedule) getting busier, I had to outsource the lawn care to somebody else. The first time he showed up, revved the motor on his lawnmower, and began cutting the grass, I felt like such a bougie househusband. It probably didn’t help that I was vegging out on the couch at that moment. Not even turning up the volume on my TV to drown out the sounds of his motor could help me feel better.

These days, I outsource many of my chores. Much of the time, I still don’t feel great about it. I still feel a little bougie—and a little emasculated. I wanted to explore why.

 

Outsourcing Your Chores

First, let me say this. I’m privileged to feel crappy about paying somebody else to complete my work. The fact that we have the ability to throw money at chores I either can't, don’t want, or don’t have the time to complete is a privilege. I don’t take that for granted.

But when a toilet is on the fritz or our light fixture is flickering or the water heater starts running exclusively cold, I get so annoyed when I have to call in help. Unlike my dad, I’m not handy. My dad can fix just about anything. Even if I can diagnose the problem and repair the issue, it takes me twice as long as it should, and I’m probably going to mess it up the first time or two that I try.

That’s OK. I've come to accept my limitations. I try my best to be handy—and I think I have improved—but when my wife tells me to call for outside help, it’s tough for me to concede that something is beyond what little handyman talent I possess.

I’m not the only one who feels this way.

“I definitely had a hard time outsourcing in the beginning,” Dr. Santi Tanikella, a pediatrician and empowerment coach who runs the I Am Well MD website and podcast, told me. “A lot of it came from the scarcity mindset from my past. In the first few years of our marriage, we were DIYing everything: curtain rods, fixing random things around the house. My husband prefers to outsource everything. I couldn’t depend on him to DIY everything just because I wanted to DIY everything. For me, DIYing was not just about saving money; it was also about being resourceful enough that if there was ever a time or an incident where I needed to step up and complete the task, I would have that experience. It was the experiential, not just the financial.”

The same goes for me. I had little victories here and there (putting together my kids’ furniture, replacing all the doorknobs in the house, fixing the toilet handle), but handyman chores were mostly an exercise in frustration with little stings of incompetence.

That doesn’t only extend to installing ceiling fans or cutting lumber with my non-existent table saw. It also involves paying taxes. Though I’d done my own taxes for several years before and just after I got married, we had hired accountants for probably the last 15 years to get them done quickly and, knock on wood, correctly. But in March 2024, I decided to try it again (I blame WCI columnist Margaret Curtis).

I struggled with TurboTax, especially with figuring out how to input my Backdoor Roth IRA and trying to determine how much we could contribute to our solo 401(k)s. After spending six hours of frustration while completing 95% of my return, I gave up and sadly sent my forms to my accountant.

Another example: every year or two, a local landscaping company delivers six yards of black-dyed mulch and dumps it in my driveway. It would probably take me three days to spread it across my entire yard (plus, I’d need to borrow a wheelbarrow from somebody). I hired a pair of local guys, and they knocked out the task in about five hours and charged me $1,400. The next day, it took me close to two hours to weed just one of my flower beds.

Is outsourcing all of that a good use of my time? A good use of my money? Some would say yes. Some would look down their noses. As one person told me at WCICON24, “My mom always said to never pay someone to do something you could do yourself.”

I fear those words will haunt me forever.

More information here:

What’s the Value of Our Time, Anyway?

What We Can Learn About Work-Life Balance and Retirement from the French

 

Can I Be OK with Outsourcing?

I once asked my father how he, with everything going on in our family’s life, found time to mow the lawn. He said he couldn’t remember. While that wasn’t a particularly helpful answer, it also made me wonder if all my childhood reminiscing was completely accurate. Maybe I wasn’t looking at myself in the right way, either. Maybe I wasn't remembering correctly how my parents apparently had time for everything.

A few months ago, I tracked down Dr. Seema Desai, a dentist-turned-success coach who presented at WCICON25 and who will speak again at WCICON26, to ask her about my feelings.

Why, she asked, did it bother me that I wasn’t as handy as I wanted to be, that I really didn’t like the idea of outsourcing the chores that I’m pretty sure my parents managed to manage?

“I feel like I’m not a man—that whole thing,” I told her. “I’m a man; I should be able to fix this thing. My dad is a man. He can do all that stuff. But I can’t.”

“Interesting,” she said. “It’s an identity of what this should mean. What are you making this mean? It sounds like you made this decision to outsource not based on gender but on time. And yet your brain wants to kick you while you’re down. How true is it? That you’re not a man?”

“It’s probably not true at all,” I said. “Or maybe 5% true, I don’t know.”

Desai countered: “How would you even define that? A man provides for his family, cares for the community, cares for his kids, cares for his wife, is resourceful enough to get it done. Like, Steve Jobs or anybody else who's really wealthy, were they fixing their toilets? Probably not. Are they all not men?”

Every choice, she said, comes with a cost. Just because we don’t remember the trauma and stress from decades ago doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. That might have been true for my parents.

“They might have been losing sleep, they might not have been caring for themselves,” Desai said. “I’m just saying, in very broad strokes, there was probably a lot of stress that could have cost them their health. If we’re just constantly grinding it out, it’s possible to always have that stress.

“Every choice is you saying yes to something and no to something else.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt true burnout, but it’s something I think about constantly. I go out of my way not to spend eight straight hours at my computer during the workday. I hit the gym at lunchtime or I smack the tennis ball around with my kids or I volunteer on behalf of my community just to get into the sunlight and to get away from the daily stressors. Sometimes, I feel selfish about that, especially when the toilet is still running or the grass is getting taller as I start my car and drive away to do something fun.

That’s when I try to convince myself that struggling through a TurboTax session is for the short term; preserving myself for my family and for my own happiness is the long-term play.

“Where do you value your time being spent?” Tanikella said. “I know when I’m 70 and I look back at all the dishes that I washed, I’m not going to feel any sort of way about it. But if I look back and think about all the times I got to spend with my kids–those extra 15 minutes–that means something to me. They’re going to remember that they were more important than the dishes.”

More information here:

I Spent 6 Hours with a Bunch of Taylor Swift-Obsessed Doctors; Here’s What I Learned

What We Learned Financially from Our Parents and How We’re Passing It on to the Next Generation

 

The Bottom Line

During the pandemic, we canceled our monthly maid service. It was a good way to save money and to keep ourselves healthy. But without the help, we’d spend hours every weekend cleaning the house, the guest bathroom and bedroom (that nobody was even using!), the kitchen, all the other toilets, etc. It was miserable enough that I dreaded the weekends and looked forward to the work week.

When COVID restrictions eased, we had no problem outsourcing those chores again. It simply wasn’t worth being miserable on the days that were supposed to rejuvenate us.

As Dr. Jim Dahle said on the WCI Podcast earlier this year, “It’s OK to hire some help with your household stuff. It might involve a little more expense or tax paperwork, but it’s probably worth it to make your life better. Remember, the biggest risk in your life is burnout. If you come home from a 12-hour day and find out you have four more hours of work waiting for you, [outsourcing your chores] is a type of burnout insurance.”

Maybe my parents thought about that. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they had time for everything, but they probably didn’t.

Yet, here’s one thing I know: when I turned 13 years old, my father outsourced the lawncare. That’s when he sat down on the couch, and I started mowing the lawn.

 

Money Song of the Week

I love Broadway musicals, but I’d be lying if I said I was a big fan of Barbra Streisand. It’s nothing to do with her talent and her outstanding voice, but she’s from a couple of earlier generations before I cared about show tunes. And I found that many of those musicals from the 1950s-1970s don’t strike me in the way that Phantom of the Opera or Rent does. The jokes from that classic era of Broadway are a little eye-roll-y, and some of the plots are a little cringe-y by today’s standards.

But then, you go out of your way to listen to Streisand sing, and her talent and charisma smack you in the nose.

Take, for instance, a song I’d never heard before just now called Value from a 1961 Broadway show I’d never heard of before just now called Another Evening with Harry Stoones. The musical lasted just 10 performances before closing, so I won’t blame you if not a single WCI reader had ever heard of this week’s money song. I mean, the 9-year-old YouTube video, which you’ll watch below, only has 3,700 views on a channel that boasts more than 600,000 subscribers.

The tune is rather delightful, as Streisand, playing the role of Nancy for this tune, sings about how she’s in love with Harold Mengert even though it has nothing to do with him owning a car and coming from a wealthy family.

As Streisand, who reportedly earned a whopping $37.50 per week (about $400 in today’s money) for the show, sang:

“Call me what you will/But nonetheless I'm still/In love with Harold Mengert/And it's not because he has a wealthy family/Arnie Fleischer has a wealthy family/But money isn't everything/And if Harold didn't have a dime to his name/I know I'd love him just the same.”

The song, though, turns on the bridge, and the full joke is revealed in the outro.

In the case of Nancy, money can’t buy her love . . . but it can make her fall in love twice.

More information here:

Every Money Song of the Week Ever Published

 

Facebook Post of the Week

Look, I love Corey Feldman as much as the next guy (I grew up on Stand By Me, License to Drive, and The Lost Boys), but does this seem a little high for a movie star whose biggest moments were like 40 years ago? Photo via Rock N Roll Experience.

For what it’s worth, you can buy an autographed photo of Feldman on eBay for between $60-$260, so that $160 charge for a non-personalized autograph actually isn’t all that outlandish.

Do you have a difficult time outsourcing your chores? If not, what’s your secret? If so, from where do you think that reluctance stems?

[EDITOR'S NOTE: For comments, complaints, suggestions, or plaudits, email Josh Katzowitz at [email protected].]