My Life In Laundry

There is no single more recurring topic in this blog than laundry.

 

Since they say a picture is worth 1000 words… so today, I’m providing you with 4000 words.   Or, a pictorial glimpse into “My Life Through Laundry”

 

To start, you will see a basket filled with hubby’s clean & folded laundry from almost 2 weeks ago.  Behind this basket of laundry is an un-packed suitcase from a trip we took this past weekend,  filled with – yep, you guessed it…. dirty laundry.  And, oh yeah, beside the clean basket of clothes…… well, don’t ya know it…. more dirty laundry.

 

This is a snapshot of our bed (yes, it’s un-made – Don’t judge me!)… but, more importantly, it’s a shot of hubby’s jammies from last night – aka laundry.

 

This is a quick glimpse of hubby’s dresser.  It looks just as it always does… with a pile of folded & clean laundry on top.  (Laundry winds up here because some days, I actually need the basket  – you know, the one holding the clean laundry –  to go and carry more dirty laundry to be washed in the basement.  When I need the basket, I place the clean laundry on top of the bed… and then, it gets mysteriously moved here – to the TOP of the dresser.

 

This is a view into our bathroom…. Or perhaps more accurately, more dirty laundry.  This laundry usually consists of what hubby wore yesterday.  It’s ever-present.  Perhaps not for more than 1 day – and hubby would have you believe that this laundry is, in fact, a gift to me.  In-so-much-as, if he comes to bed after me, he takes his clothes off in the bathroom so he won’t disturb me (there he is – my genuinely loving guy… always looking out for me).  Until of course you realize that Every-Day there’s the previous day’s outfit on the floor of the bathroom (and quite possibly – assorted other bonus items – do I see more jammies??!!)

 

 

I will also have you know that I literally just snapped these shots… each picture is not from a different day.  They are all from TODAY.  From 10 minutes ago.  I can take the same pictures tomorrow and then again on Friday.  This is my life.    The life I have chosen.   And…. You all wonder why I blog so much about laundry??

 

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When You’re Right….. You’re Right? (Unless You’re Inside Out?)

In the almost 5 years I’ve been blogging there is one recurring topic that I can’t quite seem to stay away from.    In case you’re a new reader I’ll share just a few posts with you (HERE, HERE , HERE & HERE)

 

Most people dislike 4 letter words but me, nope, I like a lot of 4 letter words. … words like Love, Food, Hugs & Beer (and probably too often, just about all of those 4 letter words that are incredibly inappropriate in mixed company – yep, I have a mouth like a sailor!).  It’s generally the 6 letter words that I hate.. words like, crumbs, chores, toilet,  but there is one word that can top them all….the ever-so-dreaded 7 letter word that I quite simply, just despise – LAUNDRY.

 

I hate every aspect of it.

I hate the piles of dirty laundry in the closet.  The piles of dirty laundry in the bathroom.  The piles of dirty laundry next to the bed.

I hate the sorting.

I hate the process of carrying 6 baskets of dirty laundry to the basement.

I hate dirty towels.

I hate dirty sheets.

(I hate that I’m the only one who recognizes that linens actually need laundering….)

I hate remembering that I have clothes in the dryer before they become a crumbled mess.

I hate the absurd missing sock conundrum (which has apparently extended to actual toddler clothes – since I never seem to get out what I put in)

I hate the countless hours on any given weekend where laundry looms just underneath the surface and permeates just about anything we do.

I hate the weight of the laundry as it pushes down on my shoulders if I should opt to focus on any other activity (besides laundry) during a weekend.

I hate, Hate, HATE folding all the clean laundry.

And, I hate putting all the clean laundry away.  (or leaving it to be put away on the bed only to find that hubby has moved piles of it to the dresser and will live like this for the next 2 weeks – but that’s an entirely different blog post)

 

But the one thing that I don’t HATE (or at least not in the way I hate everything noted above) is the need to flip inside out laundry to be right side out.  I know this is the nemesis of Mom’s around the world.  And I know that many a woman has instilled a laundry rule… that you get back laundry exactly-the-way you put your laundry into the basket (assuming it makes it into a basket).  And, perhaps, when my toddler becomes a teen, I will be instituting this exact same rule (ok – it’s likely I probably will) BUT, for now.. this has never been a huge deal to me.   If I take a moment to self-analyze I think it’s because I hate the laundry folding process so much already, that there’s virtually no way to make it worse for me.  Inside out – Or right-side-out  folding… they both pretty much suck!  So, while I may grumble under my breath as I flip t-shirts to be right-side-out… I’m grumbling because I’m folding laundry… not because 50% of the load is inside out.

 

Which makes where I’m headed below highly humorous to me.

 

2 weeks ago hubby did a load of laundry.  WHAT??  You may be saying……  So, I’ll say it again.  Hubby did a load of laundry.   Trust me when I tell you, I’m more surprised than you are.  It probably only happened because he ran out of underwear.  And, after an interesting recent conversation, about the under-wearing habits of most men… he was probably guilted into doing a load.

 

Anyhow… after he folded his basket of laundry he decides to take a dig at me.. or, perhaps from his point of view, he decides to “point something out to me”.

 

Hubby: “Hey hon, do you know that a ton of your shirts were inside out”

Me:  “Uhhh… hmmmm..”

Hubby:  “I just wanted to let you know….”

Me:  “You did….. Huh?”

Hubby:  “Yes.  You know, it makes this task even worse when I have to right-side-out every t-shirt”

Me:  “It does, does it?”  trying to wrack my brain for the last time he did any laundry

Hubby:  “Yes.  Maybe you could take them off right-side-out before you put them into the basket?”

Me:  wondering the last time he even put clothes ‘in the basket’ “You know, most of your t-shirts are usually inside out”

Hubby:  “No they’re not”

Me:   “Hon, I hate to break this to you but you’re mistaken… almost all of your shirts are inside out”

Hubby:  “I’m positive that you’re wrong.   I’ve always been good at taking them off right-side-out.. because my Mom had a rule growing up that if you didn’t she would fold them inside out”

Me:  “ Really…. All your life you’ve been good at making sure they’re not inside out.”

Hubby: “Yep.”

 

And I just let this conversation die… in the midst of the inaccuracies in which it was becoming increasingly buried.

 

Last weekend things were “back to normal” and I did laundry.

 

As I folded the laundry, I counted the total # of hubby’s shirts…. There were 17 in total.

 

Hubby came inside from doing some yard work.

 

Me:  “Hey babe… I would never normally do this but……”

Hubby:  “Yeah?”

Me:  “Remember last week when you so graciously pointed out that I didn’t right-side-out my t-shirts?”

Hubby:  “Yes?”

Me: “Remember how you so matter-of-factly told me that you never put inside out t-shirts into the hamper?”

Hubby:  “Yep!”

Me:  “Well, I did laundry today”

Hubby “Ok….”

Me:  “And again, I would never be pointing this out if you hadn’t opened the door to this conversation……”

Hubby:  blank stare

Me:  “Well, I counted your t-shirts… there were 17 of them.”

Hubby:  “Ok”

Me:  “Do you want to know how many were inside out?”

Hubby: “I’m not sure….. Do I?”

Me: “You do.  It was TWELVE of them”

Hubby:  silence………………………..

Me: “I just feel the need to remind you again….. I have done 16,928 loads of your laundry (give or take).  And, I’ve never complained about having to right-side-out your shirts”

Hubby:  more silence……………

Hubby: “ I’m sorry.  I will try to be better”

Me:  “I honestly don’t care…. But I’m sure your Mom would be very disappointed in you.”

Hubby:  “Hmmmmmm”

 

And there you have it my dear readers……………….I will let you know how the next load of laundry goes!

 

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Signs Your Husband Is Growing Up!

I hate to admit this to you all but I watched an episode of Celebrity Wife Swap this week.  Now, the mere use of the word “celebrity” is probably a stretch given who appears on that show.  And, this probably helps solidify hubby’s position that reality tv is rotting my brain but.. either way, the damage is done.  I watched it.  I cannot undo it.  I lost an hour of my life into a dark abyss of mind-numbing morons.  And, I’m no better… and quite possibly more stupid for having done it.  But oh well…..we all do things we regret!

 

Anyhow, this particular episode featured the Speidi couple.  Spencer Pratt and Heidi what’s her name… from that show that whatchamacallit show, that many people watched but I have no interest or knowledge of (pretty sure it’s called The Hills).  Needless to say, I’m unsure how these nobody’s could be known as “celebrities” because of this show.  But, I suppose it if can happen to somebody named Snookie… this isn’t a far stretch.

 

What struck me as absurd, was this bozo Spencer’s inability to behave like an adult.  Now, I’ve often referred to my own dear hubby as a child.. but this Spencer moron takes it to a whole new level.  His equally vapid wife desperately wants to have children and I got the impression he wouldn’t give up his self-indulgent, extra hour of sleep to tend to his wife’s severed limb much less a crying infant.    If I had ever married this kid (which I wouldn’t) I’d have to smother him during his blissful nap on the lounge chair.

 

So, it got me thinking about men taking that giant leap into adulthood.  Some men go willingly and welcome adult responsibilities – they hum happy songs as they mow the lawn, they make their own “honey do” lists with household projects, they learn all the settings on both the dishwasher and clothes washer. Some men get dragged (or rather nudged) along, kicking and screaming the entire way as they are pushed out of Mommy’s house into their own place so she can finally have an empty nest.. but they return home every weekend with a bag of laundry, they open mom’s cupboards and fridge and pack to-go bags of food, and they even cling desperately to a life with no commitments.  But, the vast majority of men, step into adulthood very slowly, by dipping one toe into the water with a solo trip to the grocery store… then, if all goes well, they may try to vacuum, perhaps an attempt at a pasta dinner, followed possibly by a made bed (WITH all the extra pillows!) and then maybe, just maybe – if they are feeling extra confident… a load of gentle cycle laundry (this one takes a lot of trust ladies!).

 

Before you know it… your husband has become an adult.  Ok wait… I took it too far.  Your husband is on his way to becoming an adult.  We all know that this is a long term project!

 

So… here are just a few ways you know your husband is “growing up”

 

• He not only takes a trip to the grocery store but he actually looks around the house and in the fridge to create a shopping list. Not long ago hubby wouldn’t have even considered bringing a list to the store but after 10 years of marital training he did just that this past week…. I’m such a proud wife!

• He returns from his Saturday morning outdoor chores and stands in the house admiring his own lawn. While the lawn itself may not dictate when it needs to be mowed (even though a normal person might disagree)… hubby does , in fact, set aside an official “lawn mowing day” each week and he (generally) sticks to this schedule for the entire summer. A scheduled, recurring, chore is a BIG step towards adulthood!

• He runs out of undies and decides to do a load of laundry (all on his own!).  I’ll admit this one is still a work in progress… since only recently did I realize the underlying male struggle with understanding the need to wear clean undershorts each and every day. Hubby has, albeit on the rarest of occasions, popped in a load of laundry because he’s run out of something.

• He, unprompted, puts sunscreen AND a sun hat on your baby/toddler. I know this goes against every fiber of his being to somehow be this domesticated.. but, he recognizes the importance and takes action to protect someone incredibly dear to him!

• He actually hears the baby crying when it’s “HIS” night, without needing you to nudge him. This is likely never going to apply when it’s YOUR night (and he is obviously deaf).. but always remember this foray into adulthood comes in the form of baby steps……. And this is a BIG step – a BIG kid, taking care of a little kid!

• He actually notices AND stops to pick up something dropped on your kitchen floor. Once your hubby is able to direct his Selective Vision towards things that actually need attention you’ll know he’s growing up!

 

 

I’m sure there are others and your list may indeed be longer than mine!  Some of the indicators I mentioned above may not actually be perfected in our home.    But as I mentioned before, it’s a long term project.  It’s a marathon, not a sprint.  And, it’s the path I have chosen… each day, my hubby grows up a teeny, tiny, bit.  Someday, hopefully before my son starts catching up to him, he will firmly step into adulthood and then we can begin to hone some of the skills he’s acquired to start coaching our son –so his wife-to-be will not have nearly as much work as I did!!

 

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“Multi-Purpose” Spaces?

Did you ever wonder how one area of your home slowly gets taken over by so much stuff that it eventually assumes the responsibility for the new stuff more than the old stuff?

 

And then one day, you realize that you don’t know what has happened to your house.  And you wonder how your sewing room became the exercise room, or your exercise room became the laundry/ironing room.  Or perhaps you had a great den where you used to snuggle up and watch movies and now it’s become the kid’s playroom and is constantly littered with toys.  I’m sure many of you can relate.  And, you probably think that this post is about to outline all the ways our house has been overcome by baby crap (which it has) or that my family room no longer resembles an adult space (which it doesn’t) or that my office has become the staging area for baby baths… and the permanent home of a bath tub (why wouldn’t you keep a bath tub in your office??).  Anyhow, this post is about none of those things.  And, it’s NOT about how the baby has impacted our space.  It’s all about how hubby likes to “re-locate” items to places where they don’t belong and leave them there so long that they adopt the new-found space as their permanent (inappropriate) home.

 

You may recall THIS POST where I first started talking about this phenomenon and how it impacts every-day life and the relocation of items around my kitchen .. over .. and over… and over… and over…  That post is worth a read if for no other reason than to commiserate, if you find yourself constantly wishing that items would be Put Away at your home.

 

Well, be careful what you wish for… because sometimes, Put Away, doesn’t necessarily solve the problem.

 

I present to you Exhibit A:

This is one of our closets.  In all honesty, it would probably be defined a “catch all” closet.  Hubby keeps some suits in here.  I keep extra purses, some hats, some of our travel items and other misc stuff.   It’s a closet filled with things we don’t really use regularly……………………including, apparently, a good deal of our “regular-use” tools.

 

Hmmmmm, you may be thinking……  Screwdrivers and drills in your suit closet……. Interesting use of space.

Ahhhhhhh, you may say…… easy access tools upstairs for quick repairs……. Smart storage.

Oooohhh, you may utter…. That’s a mighty nice vest hubby has…… He’s quite stylish.

Yikes, you may be judging…. They REALLY need some professional closest storage help…. That’s quite a disaster.

 

And to pretty much all of these…. I would say you are correct…………… well, sort of.

 

Until you think deeper about it.  And realize.. we have a full basement at our house.  We have a 2 car garage at the house.  Read this as:  MANY other, BETTER, permanent home locations for all the tools.  But alas, they are living happily in my upstairs closet.  I suppose there’s a part of me that’s happy they are not sitting in the hallway (which is likely where they started) … They were probably relocated to the closet when I forced hubby to pre-clean for the cleaning ladies, or maybe when we were having house guests, or quite possibly after I tripped over them with the baby so many times that I BEGGED him to move them out of a regular walking path.  To be totally honest, I don’t actually remember how they wound up in this closet…. Because it’s been THAT LONG that they’ve been living there.

 

Out of sight, out of mind for hubby…. So I’m pretty sure these items could stay in this closet until the baby leaves for college or until hubby needs his drill for something.  At which time, he will undoubtedly scour the house for tools that he cannot locate only to declare that he’s “looked everywhere” and they must be “gone” and he now needs to go buy everything new.   And, then of course, as we wives always do… I will ask him to re-confirm that he has indeed looked “everywhere” and then I will promptly go to this closet, pull them all out and remind him that the reason he cannot find anything, EVER, is because he never puts things back in their proper place…………   and the cycle will continues, as it always does………….

 

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Who The Heck Are You?

Well,  as you may have noticed, I’m not doing all that well managing my life AND my new baby.  This blog was like a distant memory of my past life, beckoning to me from a land far, far away.   I’ve missed you dear blog readers and now that I am getting the tiniest bit of sleep, I’m going to try to get back into the swing of things…..  Good Golly, it’s been 7 weeks!

 

Anywho… it’s been an insane 7 weeks that included 3 trips back to the hospital with our little one…. Very emotionally grueling but I won’t bore you with these details.

 

Today instead,  I’d like to introduce you to someone new in my life……….NO, it’s not my new little bundle of joy like you might expect, it’s a larger version of my baby.  Someone who many of you have come to know and love.  Someone who I share stories about, who makes us laugh, roll our eyes, and oftentimes, makes us wonder what the heck is wrong with an entire species (MEN!).

 

Yes….this person is my hubby.

 

And, I no longer know who the heck he is.  You see, during these past weeks I have a learned a few things:

 

1. Hubby does indeed know where the laundry room is.  As evidenced by the multiple loads of laundry he’s done to help me out (YES!  I did say MULTIPLE!)  AND…. He’s folded said laundry too!
2. He can, in fact, pick up after himself
3. Hubby does actually know how to empty AND load the dishwasher!
4. Hubby even knows how to fold washed bedding/sheets (well, minus the fitted sheet – but this is still mind-blowing!)
5. He can even do some low-grade cleaning!!

 

Heck, hubby has stepped up in so many ways since the baby arrived I couldn’t begin to write them all out into a list.  Normally I write about how silly he can be (he still is).  Or, how annoying he can be (he still is).  Or, how frustrated I can be with him.  BUT, he’s honestly become a different person to help out while I recovered from the physical and emotional toll the pregnancy and new baby have taken on me.

 

Now, you’d think I’d be over the moon that he’s been so great, and while at the surface, this is definitely the case.  I ask you one simple question….. where the heck has this guy been for the last nine years?!

 

In addition to learning that hubby can indeed do all these things I think I learned a far greater lesson:  Apparently I don’t know hubby at all…..

Or perhaps he’s just mastered the art of “training” me to not expect too much from him (sly guy that he is!)  Well, guess what hubby….. I’m onto you now!

 

Either that, or I maybe I should have had a baby 9 years ago!!  (ahhhhh……hindsight…………..)

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A Mini-Hubby (somebody please help me!)

Well, I’m 1/2 way to having a mini hubby around the house… we have confirmed our new baby will be a boy (Lord help me!).  And, as you can probably imagine, my actual hubby is thrilled to have a young impressionable little boy to mold into a 2nd version of himself.  I’ve mentioned before that I’m already surrounded by alternate versions of my hubby with both his father (here’s an example) and his brother (here & here are examples).. each seem to exhibit many of the same qualities.  And yes, his mother and I do our share of commiserating!

 

So here I am wondering how I can stop the madness and ensure my cute, innocent, little munchkin learns to put things away and to help with chores and to… well… uhmmm… just not be hubby (or at least the annoying version of hubby… he can totally be the part of hubby that I love…)  I have long term visions, WAY down the road, of commiserating with my own poor daughter-in-law about my son’s inability to wipe up crumbs and toss his dirty clothes into the appropriate basket… long into adulthood.

 

So what’s a gal to do?

 
Well, I’ve started by vetoing just about every insane baby idea hubby comes up with like:

 

Making the NURSERY into an outer space room with aliens –  yes, this is a REAL idea.

I’ve tried to explain to hubby that the baby comes out as an INFANT, not a little boy (I’m not completely sure he understands this). And that a black ceiling with glowing stars and alien spaceships doesn’t really feel very baby-like.  And, could quite simply ensure that the little boy is scared of his own room and moves permanently into our bed.  I’ve told him that by age 5 or 6 he can discuss this idea with our son and if he chooses to have an alien outer space room, we can redecorate.

 

Buying a bigger dog crate that can fit both our dog AND our baby….. so “the dog can babysit”

Ok, hopefully this isn’t a real idea, but with hubby….. how can anybody know for sure??

 

Having the whole family live on baby food (since he doesn’t want to cook)

There will undoubtedly be days when I have to work late or entertain clients, where hubby will need to be the care giver for dinner.  So, he’s basically already declared that he, himself would happily eat baby food with our new child rather than (god forbid) cook something.

 

Starting poker training early… let’s say at 5 years old (No, I didn’t mean “potty training”… POKER training, as in a full house beats a straight…..)

Since we have a poker man cave, hubby has already said it will be important for our son to “be adept at playing at an early age… so he can beat all his friends in a poker game” (That’s ever-so-important at elementary school).   Yeah, just what I need, a note home from the 2nd grade teacher:  “We caught mini-hubby in a heated poker game at recess today.  He had accumulated a couple of PS3 games, 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a little girls hair band before we stumbled on him.  Please address this ASAP”

 

As you can see….. I’m probably in over my head.

 

I can only hope that our little one has some of my qualities too and that maybe some day, he can start The Daddy Diaries and you can hear all about hubby from his point of view!!!!!

 

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