If I had to sum up my life with kids, I think it would be divided into two categories: laundry and chauffeuring.
Years ago, one of my neighbors whose kids were a bit older would say she was “making circles” around the neighborhood for two hours each day. I didn’t understand what she meant.
Ah, the good ol’ days.
The years are a blur of piles of laundry in the mudroom, and me stumbling over them on my many trips to the garage for the next “circle.” Three kids, six sports—you do the math.
That was my vicious cycle, literally and figuratively, until about a month ago, when the new washing machine suddenly stopped working.
Yep, one month. If you have kids, you may be wondering what this could possibly look like.
Before you feel bad for me, before you wonder how I have survived this, let me set the record straight.
Best. Month. Of. My. Life.
No more running the washing machine daily. No more “Let me put this on for 10 minutes and now it is dirty” items in the basket. And no more laundry piles in the mudroom for me to trip over as I run back to the third practice of the afternoon.
Laundry has become a weekend-only activity, done at my neighbor’s house. When the weekend’s over, buh-bye laundry, see you next weekend.
Who has been keeping this approach a secret and why? How was this not in the mom’s manual for keeping your sanity while raising kids?
My friend has titled her as-yet-to-be-written autobiography, My Life in Laundry: The Drowsy Chaperone. Sad but true. I am here to say that we moms need to stick together and get together a new book list. Bring. It. On.
Here are a few prospective titles, and their respective genres, that I’d eagerly snap up:
Gender Studies: Manhandling the Laundry, A Woman’s Viewpoint
Self Help: Laundry: Back Off; You Don’t Own Me
Social Philosophy: If You Like Laundry Twice as Much As I Do, You Still Don’t Like It
Business: Who Moved My Laundry Basket?
Graphic Novel: L for Laundry
Religion and Spirituality: What Would Jesus Say [About My Laundry]?
Memoir: Eat. Pray. Launder.
Romance: The Fault in Our Laundry
Who wouldn’t devour these titles, eagerly searching for a solution?
We can do this. We can reinvent the laundry on our own terms.
Not every (wo)man for himself—but a collective effort to own it. A movement, like a wave making its way through a baseball stadium. A baseball stadium that has its laundry done only on weekends.
Next on my list—a non-working dishwasher. Anyone know how to break one? Message me, now.
