I don’t know how it happens. One minute I’m feeling caught up and the next I feel like I’m drowning in the piles of clothes that need to be washed and put away.
I’ve always hated the laundry chore. It’s just never done. Even when there isn’t a stitch of clothing to wash in any of the baskets everyone in the family is still wearing clothes which means there’s at least two loads to be done by the time they change. It’s never ending.
I have made an honest effort to do at least one load a day. But, I’m pretty sure we somehow manage to dirty more than that. I assume it has something to do with school clothes, play clothes, work clothes, dress clothes, and sports clothes. There are just too many different types of things to dress for which increases the laundry by the demand for changing clothes. Plus, once it starts piling up I get so mad I just want to ignore the stupid pile for awhile, and then it all goes to hell in a handbasket.
The other issue is that I am somehow one of the stinky people. Seriously! I just can’t wear clothes multiple times. Aside from the smell issue, I’m also a klutz. This means that I am sure to spill food, fall in the middle of the road, or have some other mishap during the day which causes the clothes to need to be washed before I can wear them again. And, joy of all joys, I’ve passed this trait on to my children.
At the urging of my mother and some friends, I’ve started the kids helping with laundry. Let’s pause here and say that the word ‘help’ is pretty thin when it is used to describe the twins participation in this chore. First, I have a large capacity washer. Trevor and Cora can’t even reach the bottom, and I have to actually climb half way inside to get the clothes out. This rocks for getting lots of clothes washed at a time, but it stinks for having the twins help by switching clothes over. Also, the twins neither seem to care if the laundry is done, put away, or even placed somewhere that it can be found. It seems that dressers and closets frighten them and so things get tossed on bedroom floors or on top of dressers or chairs or basically anywhere but where the things belong. I should take a moment to point out that my giant 14 year old son is amazing at helping with laundry, and it’s simply the desire to help that is sometimes lacking. However, in recent months he’s been doing more than his fair share and I totally appreciate it.
So, back to the laundry monster – it piles up, it tricks me by hiding some of my favorite items, and I’m sure, somewhere in the bottom is the monster that eats the socks. This Spring break has been ‘catch up’ time for the laundry. I loathe it. It annoys me. I want freedom. I want clean clothes to magically appear in my closet without any effort. Until then – I fight the monster. It’s a daily battle and I’m pretty sure I’m losing.