A few weeks ago I had a meltdown in regards to laundry and announced I would be taking a hiatus. Really, it was only supposed to last a weekend and the next thing I know it’s Thursday two weeks later and I have no clean undergarments. While the husband does help around the house and dabbles in the occasional laundry, he lacks the sheer determination it takes to get through that laundry on a weekly basis. You know, the innate sense of waking up in the morning with a plan of how your laundry rotation will go? Knowing that colors will go in first, followed by whites and towels last because really, who cares about the towels? That determination.
After two weeks of me actively avoiding the piles of laundry around our house, either dirty or in baskets, unfolded I realized this hiatus has to come to an end. There are only so many weeks I can manage getting by with “ironing” my clothes for work by throwing them in the dryer. And the baby shouldn't be wearing pants that are two sizes too big just because her good ones are dirty.
And when you don’t do the laundry, it seems as if it is an open invitation to chaos in your home. Sure, you do the minimal amount to get by, but then you don’t put it away and you've got baskets of clean laundry sitting on your couch. This leads to having to tear apart the basket to find what you need, which then leads to piles of clothes throughout your house. And the piles of laundry tend to morph into toys not being picked up, colored pencils being strewn about, mail on the floor (I know, right?) and tissues everywhere. I don’t know if this is normal or happens to anyone else, but it certainly does around our house.
Which is why this weekend is dedicated to laundry doing. Mama’s back on the laundry train and come hell or high water, come Monday every sock, towel and shirt will be cleaned, folded and put in its proper place and with it, our home will return to somewhat clean, like we enjoy it. And I can’t wait.