Saturday, December 4, 2010

Laundry day

I want to start by saying my mom did everything right in raising me. Either it did not sink in my thick skull or I am just rebellious.

Some call it "disorganized", I say "relaxed" I call it Some may say "chaotic", I say "spontaneous". Beauty is in the eye of the beholder right? I have a lot of things I like to do in a day, none of which involve cooking, cleaning or domestic type duties. (Faithful readers you know this). But of course these things must get done, and occasionally I have to give my hubby a break...

Yesterday for example I started some laundry. There was a basket in the laundry room that I was not sure if it was clean or dirty so I just threw it in for good measure. Through out the day, as I thought of it, I would change the laundry and throw the dry stuff in a basket. When the basket got full, I just crammed it a little more (this is why I had to start out saying my mom did teach me well because she will get her laundry out of the dryer the second it buzzes, fold/iron it and put it away while it is still warm.) I cram, don't ever fold (I likely do not even put it back in a drawer). If I do put it away, I put it away the way it came to me, inside out usually.

So it was not unusual what happened last night. I awoke about 4:30 as my dog needed to go out. As she was doing her business I went to the bathroom and as I was staring at the washing machine I realized I did not switch out the last load. So I took kids clothes out of the dryer and moved the towels from the washer to the dryer (they had been there about 10 hours) threw in a dryer sheet in case they were getting musty and was about to head back to bed when I realized I needed to play tooth fairy. So I dug in my purse, found the dollar bill, found a marker and paper and wrote a note.

FInally, as I lay in bed listening to the calming hum of the dryer, I thought "my poor mother, she must think she failed me"

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I think men are better at laundry, simply because they don't have to think about it. Everything we own is cotton, from shirts to jeans to underwear. Just toss it all in one load, cold wash, tumble dry. I don't do my wife's clothes because I have to read every label to see if I'm going to ruin it. Lace, frills, and silk may look great on her, but if I wash it, it will never look the same.

Belinda said...

Timely blog, Sarah. As Jim is in Washington spending time with his dying mother, I am sitting here - snow softly falling outside - spending time reading in a type of journal she wrote in a number of years go. One of the questions in the book was "Which lessons that you have learned would you like to share with your loved ones?" Her answer was "I learned through my life that a good example is much more important than a clean house. Time spent with your children is never lost." So I think the moral of the story is - whether we take the clothes out of our dryer right away and fold and iron them or wait until 4:30 in the morning and stuff them in the clothes basket - we just need to make sure we are spending time enjoying the people we love most. As always, I very much appreciate our many differences, how we challenge each other because of them, and how much we still love each other in spite of them.

Belinda said...

Here's the poem I found pasted in the back of her journal:

To My Grown Up Sons (and Girls)

My hands were busy through the day.
I didn't have much time to play
the little games you asked me to.
I didn't have much time for you.
I'd wash your clothes,
I'd sew and cook.
But when you'd bring your picture
book
And ask me please to share your fun,
I'd say: "A little later, son."
I'd tuck you in all safe at night
And hear your prayers, turn out the light.
Then tiptoe softly to the door;
I wish I'd stayed a minute more.
For life is short, the years rush past;
A little boy grows up so fast.
No longer is he at your side,
His precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away,
There are no longer games to play,
No good-night kiss, no prayers to hear.
That all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands, once busy, now are still.
The days are long and hard to fill.
I wish I could go back and do the little things you asked me to.

Musings from Kim K. said...

Your honesty AlWAYS bring a smile to my face. I loath laundry as much as I hate packing lunches. Thanks for keeping it real.