A lot of mom's and wives I know, pride themselves on
keeping a nice, tidy, well ran home. I've tried this from all
different angles over the years. It just doesn't work for me.
I spend countless hours, following little people
around, picking their dirty socks up off of the floor, gathering
their dirty dishes out of the living room, jock straps off of the
table, football gear off of the stairs, tripping over baseball
cleats...Only to turn around at the end of the day and realize, it's
all right back where it started that morning.
Who's fault is this? Mine. I know, I know. Believe
me, I've seen the error of my ways. I'm just afraid it's too late to
fix this error.
Since my kids were little, I've followed them
around, picking up after them. They threw a bottle down on the
floor, I picked it up. One of them took their shoes off and kicked
one in front of the TV and put the other on the coffee table. That's
alright, mommy will get them. Somebody spilled a bowl of cereal in
the floor? “Darli, can you lick this up? Then I'll clean up the
rest. Now go play.”
So you see, I've got myself in quite a predicament.
They trash the house, and I clean up after them. They've come to
expect it. And why wouldn't they?
The
list of chores that I need
to do but don't always get to, is never ending; Laundry, dishes,
clean the bathrooms, sweep and mop all of the floors, vacuum the
carpet, clean the windows, dust the furniture, clean the mirrors, get
the cob webs down, make the beds, take the trash out, shake the rugs,
etc...Ugh! I'm tired just thinking about it!
I
didn't realize, until a friend brought it to my attention, how often
I say, “I hate doing ________ (fill in the blank). That's Curtis's
job.” Apparently anything I hate
doing,
turns into Curtis's job. Poor Curtis.
But there's one chore in particular, that I would
rather be strung up by my ankles in a dark, cold, basement,
surrounded by mice, while listening to someone pop their gum, than to
have to do.
LAUNDRY! I HATE DOING LAUNDRY!
That's the one thing I really didn't think through when
I day-dreamed about having a big family.
Curtis get's up each morning for work, puts on clean
boxers, a wife beater, a t-shirt, clean socks, a pair of jeans, if
it's extra cold, he wears long johns, (top and bottoms) a coat, and
he's ready to go.
Daymond wears, on a daily basis; two pairs of socks.
Because it looks “awesome” and it would make my job easier to
only wear one, so why would he do that? Boxers, a pair of shorts, a
cut off t-shirt, a regular t-shirt, if it's cold outside he puts
sweat pants over his shorts and a hoodie.
Devin's much more simple. He wears only one pair of
socks per day, bless his heart, boxers, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts,
a hoodie, and he's ready to go.
Dustin puts on whatever I choose for him to wear.
Usually a pair of jeans that he didn't get dirty the last time he
wore them, a t-shirt, a mis-matched pair of socks, and a hoodie.
Dani, also wears what I choose for her but never
without a fight. A pair of skinny jeans, panties, a t-shirt, NO
socks, and a coat. (No socks leads to stinky feet but we must keep
the princess happy)
Dakotah hasn't started school yet. So when she rolls
out of bed, she throws on a pair of panties and she's good for a
couple of hours. Then wonders to her room and comes back in her
Cinderella dress.
Dakotah:
“Mommy, don't I look adorable?”
Me:
“Yes you do!”
She wears the Cinderella dress until breakfast time,
spills oatmeal on it, disappears to her bedroom, and comes back in
her Hello Kitty bikini, smiling from ear to ear.
After watching Super Why and being way too involved in
solving today's “Super Story Answer” to make it to the bathroom
in time...
Dakotah:
“Mommy, I accidentally peed on Hello Kitty.”
Me:
“Uh-oh. You better go find something dry to wear.”
Dakotah:
“Okay!”
She comes back out of her bedroom wearing, a pair of
zebra print leggings, clean panties, a polka dotted shirt, rubber
boots, and a bandana on her head. Now we're ready to tackle this
day!
If I have no plans to leave the house, I usually stay
in my pajama pants or sweat pants from the night before, a t-shirt,
NO bra, (saves on laundry detergent) and a pair of socks.
So, in case you didn't keep track. That is: seven
pairs of socks, four pairs of boxers, three pairs of panties, two
pairs of shorts, two pairs of sweat pants, eight t-shirts, one wife
beater, one cut off t-shirt, three pairs of jeans, three hoodies, two
coats, a set of long johns, one pair of zebra striped leggings, one
Cinderella dress, and one Hello Kitty bikini. Whew! And it's not
even nine a.m. yet.
I've tried several different tactics to make doing
laundry easier and more enjoyable.
I bought three, large hampers and labeled them,
“Whites” “Colors” and “Jeans.” This worked out really
well until all three of the hampers were over flowing and the nice,
neat, sorted piles, turned into one big mess!
I've
always used my kitchen table as my folding station. Then made
countless trips putting clean laundry in each persons closet and
dresser. I came up with a brilliant plan. I bought small laundry
baskets, put each persons name on one, and as I folded, I put their
clothes in the corresponding basket. When the basket get's full, that person
is to take it to their room and,
neatly put
their clothes away and bring the basket back to me.
At first this was fun because it was new. It wasn't
long until I was having to hunt the baskets down, empty them myself,
and bring them back to the kitchen. It was nice while it lasted.
I've had three or four hanging racks with wheels on the
bottom. These are so nice. While I'm folding, I just put the
clothes that go on hangers on this rack in order, (Curtis, Jenny,
Daymond, Devin, Dustin, Dani, and Dakotah) and when the rack is full,
move all of the clothes into the closets. I'm a genius!
Curtis got really tired of living out of baskets and
off of a rack. And having to stumble around all of this laundry
paraphernalia every time he entered the kitchen. So that ingenious
plan was short lived.
Almost a month ago my washer quit. Curtis has made a
couple of trips to the laundry mat. I've taken load after load and
washed them at my mom and dads. But my rock bottom came one Saturday
night when I realized that none of us had clean clothes for church
and the kids were going to have to go to school naked on Monday.
So, I told everybody to gather up some of their
clothes. I filled the bath tub with hot water, dumped some liquid
laundry detergent in, added the clothes, and started scrubbing.
Let me just say, I had no idea how good I had it until
I had to do laundry, at ten o'clock on a Saturday night, on my knees,
in the bath tub. Not one of my finer moments.
Well, it's time for school to get out. Daymond will come home and change out of the shorts he
wore to school into a different pair of shorts. Devin will shed his
layers in the middle of the living room floor and put on a pair of
pajama pants for the night. Dustin will take his jeans off and
change into his clothes for basketball practice. Dani will change at
least two times between now and bed time, and there comes Dakotah,
out of the bathroom wearing one of my tank tops as a dress, a pair of
cheetah print leggings, and some of daddy’s “preacher socks.”
I don't know if God's trying to show me just how good
I've got it by letting my washer poop out on me or what. But God, if
you're listening, I get the point!
“My
theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply,
smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door,
let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?
-Erma Bombeck
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