Laundry

Sometimes I get so caught up in recording the EVENTS that I forget to record the everyday stuff. In the end, that is what is really important to me. Those are the things that fill my heart, recharge me on a daily basis so that I have the energy to keep going. Raising my babies is taking a very lot of energy. :) And I don't want to forget the simple things, the moments of our life that are, as Neal A. Maxwell puts it, "the molecules that make up eternity."

Laundry is a constant.

There is always, always, always laundry.

Big socks and little socks, and socks in between (those in-between ones are mine, and Steve claims he can't tell them apart from the kids' socks. Hmmph.). Everybody's underwear, and t-shirts long-sleeved and short (a high proportion of which are Star Wars specific). Jeans, skirts, leggings--both fleece-lined and regular--gym clothes and yoga pants. And pair upon pair of pajamas: zippered, footed, and 2-piece.

Whatever else may be swept, wiped, mopped, decluttered, tidied, or cleaned--there is always laundry.

It's not my nemesis, per say. Its definitely a battle. I do a load every weekday to keep on top of it:

Kids clothes Monday
Dark clothes Tuesday
Light clothes Wednesday
Catch up (sheets, bath towels, and clothes, rags, and dish towels from the downstairs hamper) on Thursday and Friday.

It's part of my morning routine. Wake up, scriptures, prayer, maybe a tiny bit of yoga (stretches for my neck and shoulders), get dressed, fix my hair and put on my face, make the bed, wipe down the master bath, and throw a load of laundry in the washer.

Later in the day I move it to the dryer.

By afternoon its ready to fold, but usually I don't fold it. I haven't figured out where that fits into my life yet. It's not a priority, you know? And the kids are accustomed to checking the dryer or the clean-baskets in the laundry room if they can't find something they need in their dressers.

But Tuesday afternoons I always fold, because that's the kids' folding day, too.

When I decided that I needed to drastically simplify in 2014, one of the changes I made was to be proactive about teaching the kids to help around the house, and enlisting them for regular household "contributions" like picking up their rooms, folding laundry, and sweeping the floors.

I have to give them a huge amount of credit for their [mostly] good attitudes about this. I think starting them young has helped with that a lot, but there are other things I do that help, too. I try to acknowledge that it's not fun, and that maybe I don't want to do it either--but that we do it to help our home stay clean and cozy. That resonates with them, and I am so grateful!

I've also learned to be patient.

They go at their own pace. It is slower than mine, but they are happy, and the work gets done.

They fold in their own way. It is different than mine (even though I taught them!) but they do good work.

Afternoons are a little rough on me. Not terrible or anything, but definitely the hardest, longest-feeling part of the day. My natural energy hits a valley around 2ish, and once we pick Gracie up from school the kids are on high-speed, high-volume. I'm an introvert, so that gets kind of overwhelming for me.

But Tuesdays, during laundry time, are nice.

We're all together, but we all have space. We talk and Charlie comes to give me lots of kisses as he tries (unsuccessfully) to avoid his folding.

I sit in the laundry room, on the floor, and fold into a plastic basket.

And look at the sunshine coming in through the window in the hall.

The sunshine through that window was my first indication that we needed to buy this house.

Oh I love it.

The kids take over the hall just outside the laundry room door, each with their own basket. They fold all their own clothes, and sometimes help with Juliette's.

And we fold and talk. And sometimes listen to music. And sit in the afternoon light.

And while I wouldn't say that I like laundry, it is kind of soothing to sit quietly(ish) and make order out of chaos, one fold, one crease, one stack at a time.

It is definitely one of our molecules.