This post is dedicated to Boo Mama and her post How Do You Do The Things That You Do?
In an attempt to avoid hogging the comment’s section of her blog, I will answer at least one of the three questions she asks in her post. I may answer all three. We’ll see.
Boo Mama asks: 1) How many days a week are you completely caught up on laundry?
Well, Boo Mama, I’ll tell you. I’m caught up just about every day. That’s right. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I wash laundry EVERY DAY! If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a zillion times, I’m pretty sure I do laundry in my sleep.
It’s second nature. Since Cammie and Courtney are almost 19 and 16, they obviously help. BUT, I do most of it. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. If I’m home for the day or not. I usualy throw a load on to wash before leaving the house and check it when I return. If I’m in and out, so is the laundry—in and out. By the end of the day, I’m scooping baskets of clothes out to fold (if I haven’t already because I was home or because there weren’t many loads and they’re done). And by the way (just because I am clearly a detailed person and simply must tell you)—I really HATE folding clothes that are not fresh out of a hot dryer. But the days of me turning those clothes back on to dry for ten minutes to make them fresh are over. Are you with me? So I pull the clothes out of the dryer and either pass them off to Cammie and/or Courtney, or fold them like mad. I rotate the towels and Joe’s underwear. I know. I know. But I can’t help it. If someone else puts up the clothes and they are not rotated, I can still sleep at night. But if I put them away, the towels MUST be rotated, the rolled up wash cloths even. Gotta’ flip that basket around if necessary to ensure that the other wash cloths are picked next instead of the freshly placed wash clots.
Deep breath.
Okay. Joe’s underwear. Well, I don’t know. Guess I just want to make sure he’s not overusing one or two pairs. You know, since I wash EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
If you’re still with me, I shall share with you a prime example from today.
It was Monday and Cammie, Sophie and I were going to work at my friend, Alyssa’s, children’s re-sale shop. Well, Sophie wasn’t going to work, but she was present and can likely verify the details of this story.
After picking up a key from Alyssa’s mother, I proceeded to her store to begin processing merchandise. Her store is closed on Mondays and that’s her opportunity to organize and process merchandise. I heart organization. So I let myself in the back door and proceeded to the front of the store to punch in the alarm code, returned to the back, set down my purse, cell phone AND THE KEY, and went through the back door to let Cammie and Sophie in. And let the door shut behind me. OH! NOOOOO!
I’ll try and fastforward: we were locked out, it was hot. But we have Cammie’s car. AND her car keys. WHAT TO DO? CALL ALYSSA who has an appointment for her youngest child at 11:00. Alyssa agrees to meet me at the daycare when she drops her two oldest boys and give me her key because the only other key is with one of her employees who is OUT OF TOWN. Must kill a little time before meeting her. Stop at Sonic. Sophie takes one bite of grilled cheese and immediately rejects it. ALL OVER HER CARSEAT. In Cammie’s car. NOT my carseat. Mine is leather. THAT is precisely why I like her leather carseat. LOVE, LOVE it. What to do? What to do? Is she sick? I assess the situation and decide that it’s just a Sophie thing as she will vomit if you say vomit. Must be the grilled cheese. She NEVER gets a grilled cheese. Besides, she begged us for Cammie’s cheeseburger. It wasn’t even 10:00 a.m. I heart Sonic.
Okay. Plan: meet Alyssa; go home because Courtney is now home from volleyball practice with my car so we can switch cars and change Sophie. Because clearly it was just the grilled cheese.
Imagine our surprise when we unwrapped her grilled cheese to find only a mouse-sized nibble missing. She barely licked that thing! Hmm… But she was fine, ate fries, frosted Cheerios and a buffet of other things throughout the day.
So I get the key, go home, have Cam clean up and change Sophie and I strip Cam’s carseat from her car. SEEEEE, I’m totally going somewhere with this. I start a load of clothes including the carseat cover and Sophie’s stinky clothes. We leave the house and return to the store with another key.
Work, work, work. Drop Cammie home, catch tail end of Courtney’s volleyball game, run into Walmart WITHOUT A LIST (OH MY GOSH, the horror of it!) and manage to get only the six things running through my head. I didn’t even get Sophie gum despite her desperate attempts to manipulate me. Her attempts, did, however, work on the lady behind us who suddenly decided she was buying a pack of watermelon gum but she had never tried it and wondered if Sophie could have a piece. Well, sure. Fine. WHATEVER.
Sorry. I digress. But you knew that about me, didn’t you?
I dash home just after six. It’s Monday night. The Bachelorette will be on at 7:00. I CANNOT MISS IT! I rush in with some help unloading from Joe and bark out orders to preheat the oven for my Mexican pizza that will accompany me during The Bachelorette. I throw Sophie in the tub, scrub, scrub, scrub. Then check the laundry. YEH! Cammie or Courtney must’ve put the load in the dryer. And they didn’t dry the carseat cover. Progress. I scoop up the two washed loads (another one was washed either the night before in my sleep by myself or by Courtney. Not sure. Really) and drag them to the living room to join me for The Bachelorette. I fold like mad to try to get them done before The Bachelorette begins. I fail.
But as much as I want to stay focused on The Bachelorette and tune out every single thing going on around me, I am compelled to fold those clothes and get them ALL put away. And then put up the empty laundry basket. No leftover socks (doesn’t ALWAYS happen that way). Then I load the majority of what is left in the hamper, which happens to be darks and let them sit until tomorrow where they’ll be joined by more dirty darks. By the second commercial, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!
Now I can relax. Mexican Pizza. The Bachelorette.
And that is the story of my laundry. Sorry, no time to answer Boo’s second and third questions. I know. You’re all torn up about it.
Happy washing. And goodnight.
P.S. The Bachelorette tonight? CRAZZZZY! I totally could’ve just relaxed and folded laundry.
