...my child sold your honor student the answers to the test...

Friday, January 7, 2011

Laundry Lament

I hate doing laundry. Loathe it. Detest it. (Insert any verb in here that best represents your most passionate negative feeling here) it.

I never used to feel this way. I've never been an avid fanboi of any type of chore ever, but BC laundry would only get a "meh" out of me. But now I launder for a family of 5..... and I have a toddler to boot. And that makes all the difference in the world, changing a mundane chore into an agonizing endeavor each and every time I must participate in this task.

When dealing with a family of 5, you are dealing with the average of 7 sets of clothing (toddlers get extra sets because they are notoriously messy eaters and throw their socks in the trash can when you are not looking) a day. That equals out to

  • 49 shirts
  • 49 pants
  • 98 socks
  • 31 pairs of underwear (I add in extra because Ashe still has accidents)
  • 15 bibs ( I don't even know why I bother since they only catch 1/5 of the food and the other 4/5 end up on shirts, pants, and floor)

a week. A WEEK! And that's not even including any towels or bedding, and sometimes bedding needs to be done mid week.

And if you're stupid enough (like me sometimes) to hold off on doing laundry once a week, it becomes a chore that makes any parent tremble in fear. Washing and drying the laundry itself is not that big of a deal.. You dump the clothes in the washer, throw in some detergent, come back in 30 minutes, toss it into the dryer, throw the next load into the washer. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's the sorting part that sucks. Because sorting clothes for a family of 5, many of said items of clothing hand me downs from one brother to the next, takes a long time. And it takes even longer when your kids think the mountain of laundry is the same as a pile of raked leaves, and they are free to jump in, hide under, and throw the clothes all over the living room as you desperately try to sort them into separate piles. Or, if you have a toddler, they think it's an absolute riot to take one of the piles you have created and toss it all back into the main pile.          

I spent 4, yes 4, hours the other day trying to get my laundry sorted and put away. 4 hours of sitting there, looking at tags for sizes, trying to determine who would best fit the Spiderman shirt or underoos, while Soren and Ashe had a field day. They laughed openly when I growled at them to stop trying to ring toss underwear on my head. The moment I placed clothes in one pile and turned away, Soren was right there grabbing it and trying to surreptitiously place it on another pile, giggling the whole time.  As I placed all socks in one pile to be sorted later, sock missiles would come flying over my shoulder into the main pile. When I tried to distract them with other fun things it was useless. No, laundry sorting is a child's fantasy come true. It's even better than a trip to Chuck E Cheese.

But it's a parents hell. I was dreaming of a bottle of Merlot all to myself and it wasn't even 11 AM yet.

I don't even bother folding. I used to try but I gave it up as a hopeless cause many months ago after refolding the same pair of jeans only to have them bounce off my head as one child would grab it and try to play catch with me. Besides, when the boys (J included) pick clothes out of their drawers, they pull out everything and place it on the floor until they find the clothing they want. J at least puts his clothes back.

So give me a vacuum. Give me a mop. I'll scrub a toilet with minimal complaint. But nothing makes me cringe in fear more than laundry for 5.

Except doing dishes