I give up. I’m conceding defeat.
After months of waging war against my laundry, I am finally ready to throw in the towel. Literally.
I feel like the dirty clothes in this house dominate my life. They stack up in piles. They beg to be washed. In fact, they stink.
I used to have somewhat of a grip on the laundry around here. Back when the kids were in preschool, I would set aside one day a week to do nothing but laundry. No playdates. No errands. Just laundry.
But as our family grew, it was no longer possible to do all of our laundry in one day. It wasn’t physically possible for our washer and dryer to complete all of the loads in a 12-hour time period. And I wasn’t willing to stay up all night.
So, I switched to the one-load-a-day method. Every day, I would wash, dry, fold and put away one load of laundry. The only problem was when I would miss one day. I would start to feel behind. I would skip another day. Soon, I was so buried in being behind, I would start to feel hopeless. Then, I would have to go back to Plan A.
That’s when we went to the system of giving each person in the house one day a week to do his or her laundry. The oldest child was on Monday. The second on Tuesday. The third born on Wednesday. Then, the baby on Thursday (me), Me on Friday (me), my husband on Saturday and the towels on Sunday (me). I can’t even remember what happened to this system. I think I just got tired of trying to remind people whose day it was and trying to nag everyone to get their load done to make room for someone else.
Over the summer, I simple gave up on the laundry. I watched it grow in tall piles and topple over the tops of the brown baskets that indicate the laundry is dirty. Children begged to be able to wear clean underwear. The boys’ socks got so smelly I had to throw them away.
My husband tried to intervene even though I have fired him from laundry dozens of times. He CLAIMED that clean laundry — even when it’s in the wrong drawers and not folded up to my folding specifications — is better than dirty laundry. Oh, he’s always got some clever argument and practical reasoning. I still wasn’t buying it.
I kept telling him he was fired. He would smile. And then the minute I left the house for more than two hours, I would come home to find him folding laundry.
As summer turned to fall, our laundry woes have only grown. I have tried to do a load here and there. But between home schooling, chasing a toddler, working a part-time job, cooking meals, cleaning the house and driving people from place to place, I simply don’t have an extra 12 hours a day to devote to laundry. I just refused to do it. I would look the other way. Ignore it. Maybe it would go away on its own.
Well, I’m finally conceding defeat. We just can’t live anymore in a house piled up with dirty clothes. I’m completely out of laundry strategies. So, I’m just going to take it slow and steady. One load at a time.
If you don’t see me for a few days, please don’t be alarmed. I will be washing. Drying. Folding. Putting away. And as soon as I get done with all of the clothes, I know there will be plenty more waiting for me. I’m devoting my life to laundry.
I’m going to get started right now. As soon as I finish this blog post. And help the kids with their school work. And make lunch. And clean up the kitchen. And put the toddler down for her nap. Yep. I’m going to get to it right after that. Unless something else comes up.
What about you? Are you on top of your laundry? Or feeling a little defeated?