Tag Archives: Laundry

The Laundry Monster!

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Yesterday I shared that my laundry fairy has been kidnapped.  She’s still missing, and the clean laundry is still sitting there.

I went to fold it this afternoon and encountered this horror!

Wanted Dead or Alive: The Laundry Monster

 

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Our Laundry Fairy Was Kidnapped

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I hope she’s ok.  But’s she’s definitely been kidnapped.  Our laundry fairy…  She’s GONE!

How do I know she’s been kidnapped?  I have a few pieces of evidence:

1.  There are piles of clean laundry to be folded on the living room chairs.  Big piles.

2.  A load of wash was left in the washing machine for more than a day.

3.  The lint trap had lint in it.

4.  I found the boys’ socks in their beds, in between sofa cushions and on the floor.

5.  There’s dirty laundry on the bathroom floor.

I hope our laundry fairy is okay and being taken care of.  If you see her, please tell her I’ll rescue her as soon as possible.

School Age Kids and Saturday Mornings

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The last two years has been a bit of an adjustment for me.  Even outside of how my life changed marriage wise (separated, divorced and then re-married), and career wise, I didn’t expect so many other changes and adjustments.  Most specifically, I’m talking about Saturday mornings.

When I had my boys, I quickly realized that sleeping in was a thing of the past.  Six a.m. breast feeding sessions turned into 7 a.m. rattlings on the crib, and later one or both of them climbing into bed with me.  As they got older, they learned to get up and turn on the T.V. and fix themself a bowl of cereal.  With the hope of one of Dave’s all-star breakfasts, however, it’s hit-or-miss as to whether or not they will take the cereal or knock on our door until we wake up, in hopes of french toast or omelettes.  Yea, our Breakfasts with the Beatles are THAT good.

In the past year we have had the biggest change to our Saturday mornings.  This one is probably the hardest to adjust to…  Sports.  While waking up and stumbling to the kitchen to get coffee and relax on a Saturday morning is one thing, having to set the alarm to make sure we’re at the field early enough is an entirely different playing field.

Our Saturday mornings have turned into another workday morning.

Instead of asking, “Do you have your shoes, homework and lunch?” I find myself repeatedly asking, “Where are your shinguards, uniform and cleats?”  It’s exhausting!  While I appreciate the fact that our Saturdays are ours after the games are over, I know I’m not alone once we get to the field.  Sitting in our lawn chairs, we’re surrounded by parents who look beat up.  Our massive thermoses filled with coffee should have an IV into our bloodstream, and as our kids sweat it out on the field, we struggle to stay warm on the sidelines.  With our pale faces and bags under our eyes, we look like a sad group that’s been up all night drinking rather than a segment of the population that could just use a nap.  Or a vacation.

So here I am at 9:03 Saturday morning.  My coffee is next to me on the desk and the air is cold thanks to a night of rain and thunderstorms.  But the game is still on.  And I’ll be on the soccer field sidelines in less than an hour, cheering Thing 2 on and hoping for a win.  However when the game is finished, the day belongs to the parents (she says with a sinister laugh).  There’s laundry to be done, a sink full of dishes and trash to take out.  Well…  OK.  Maybe Saturday afternoons don’t belong to the parents either.  Maybe they belong to all the chores and tasks that weren’t done during the week.

Here’s hope for Sunday.

Un-Perfect Parent

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Before I start criticizing other parents, I have to share…  I’m not a perfect parent.

I…

  • Let the occasional cuss word slip in front of the boys
  • Play Monopoly with Thing 2 on my Kindle just so I don’t need to pick up the mess

Fruits and Vegetables

  • Don’t always serve fruits or vegetables with dinner
  • Will tell the boys they can play on the PS3 if they let us sleep longer
  • Have overflowing laundry baskets waiting to be taken care of

    Rated R

  • Let the boys watch rated-R and scary movies

Hide and Go Seek
  • Will play Hide-and-Go-Seek with the boys, then take a little longer to find them just for a few extra minutes of quiet
  • Am a push-over and will let them have second desserts

With all this said, however, I/we support our children in Every.Single.Way.Possible.

Thing 2 likes to ask me, “Mommy, what should I be when I grow up?”  My only response, thanks to my parents, is “Whatever you want as long as you are happy and it’s legal.”

Seriously.  How can I/we NOT support our children and their dreams and ambitions?  When it comes time for them to graduate high school (attending/graduating high school is NOT a question, unless they become a superstar before then, at which point private tutors will be hired), I can not deny that yes, I will push them in the direction of college.  However…  If college is not for them, that is their decision, not mine/ours.

Just recently I have met a really great young lady, in her very early 20’s, who is in college out West.  During the course of conversation, it came out that her parents don’t want her to go to college, so they are making it as difficult as possible for her to go.  For example, they purposely turn in the FAFSA forms late so she doesn’t qualify for aid and can’t get student loans.  Yes, I’m serious.  And because she’s not yet 23 she can’t file independently.  I want to drive 1,000 miles and smack them.

I don’t care if you have money to put your kids though college.  If any of ours were heading off to college next month they would be on their own (financially).  We could/would send them monthly allowance, but beyond that, our assistance would be co-signing on student loans.  But we would do that.  Without a doubt, we would do that.

Between Dave and I, our oldest is about to be 13.  This gives us 5 years to prepare for what she wants to do post-high school.  In the meantime, we have 8 years and 12 years before Things 1 & 2 will be old enough, and that many years to have any say in their lives.  We can control our kids’ curfew when they’re old enough to go out without us, have a say in whether or not they can drive, and try to have a say in who they date (but I only plan on having a say in that if the age difference could get either of them in trouble).  Beyond that it’s our time to support and nurture them.

In the time that has passed since I left Turtle (the name we have given the boys’ dad), I have been amazed by the progress our little family has made.  With Dave’s help, the boys have become much more responsible, respectable young men.  Rather than have to think about what we can’t do because of their bad behavior, we now look forward to what we CAN do as a family.  It’s all a matter of respect, both given and received between the four of us, and we’re a happy, healthy family unit because of it.

Family Picture

Daily Chore Avoidance

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Like our boys, I continue to struggle with my daily chores. 

  • Right now in the middle of the living room I know I have three overflowing baskets of CLEAN laundry to fold. 
  • My budget/check book is a month behind.
  • My dresser top has a stack of (my) CLEAN laundry on top to be put away
  • The bottom drawer of my desk is a mess of bills and paperwork that need to be filed
  • My bookshelf is a wreck, and I’m not even reading paper-based books!
  • My closet…  whoo…  I won’t even describe that mess…

And on top of my daily chores are all those one-time projects that if I could just get them done once, I would never have to look at them again. 

But for some reason, I avoid them.  I avoid my chores as though they were the black plague.  But avoidance is infectious.  It spreads around my brain and body, wreaking havoc on all it touches.  The guilt of not doing what I should be eats away at my gut, making me think about my chores while I am at work.  My brain sends out repetitive reminders of what I should have done last night, exhausting my mind.  By the end of the work day, I’m tired of thinking about what I need to do, and am more interested in relaxing…  Again. 

And the cycle begins again, as though I started a dose of antibiotics, but never finished it.  The plague lives on.

I think I need to break into my bookshelf and call upon my backup support.  The Flylady.  If you’ve never heard of The Flylady, and you are struggling with organization and keeping your house clean, I strongly urge you to check out this free website and program.  While I don’t agree with all aspects of the program (ex. wearing my shoes in the house), most of the other topics helped me tremendously when I did the program years ago. 

I must say, however, that despite MY struggles with organization and chores, Dave keeps our house clean and presentable.  Despite the laundry baskets in the middle of the living room, I would not be embarrassed if someone knocked on our door unexpectedly.  (Thank you, baby!)  I just don’t like my avoidance.  I want to go to sleep having done all I could for the day, including having time to relax with the boys and Dave.

Just a thought…

How much easier our work would be if we put forth as much effort trying to improve the quality of it as most of us do tryign to find excuses for not properly attending to it.”  ~George W. Ballenger

Eating the Ugly Frog First

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After Dave and I got married, I had about a week where I thought, “Wow!  It’s strange to not be planning or up to our eyebrows in preparations!”

That time has passed.

With Dave now a full-time college student (way to go, baby!) and essentially a stay-at-home dad/housekeeper, me working full-time, both of us coaching Thing 2’s junior baseball team two days a week and Thing 1 in baseball practice another two days a week, we’re stretched thin.  Very thin.  I posted on Facebook the other day (my first post in a couple of weeks), “I wish all the running around we do for kids (and ourselves) could count as exercise and burn calories, because I’m exhausted!”

I see the benefit of all these activities, however.  First, we’ve been forced to become more organized.  Dinner has to be planned, and we all have to be ready to go when we need to go or the whole day gets set back.  Second, we’ve been forced to do tackle activities we don’t necessarily want to tackle but are for our benefit.  For example, I realized I let tasks such as balancing the budget and laundry slide over the past month and a half.  Did laundry get done?  Yes.  But it was on an as-needed basis, rather than regular up-keep. 

Now, after the boys go to bed, I’m more consious of what I do with my time.  My first awareness came when I attempted to watch a movie while Dave was doing homework.  At first his head turned, then his chair turned, and eventually, he would be turned all the way around, watching TV instead of doing his work.  As much for me as for him, I realized there are activities I need to do, and I may as well do them while he is doing his work.  He can focus on his homework done (letting us get to bed earlier), and I feel better about my massive to-do list.  Coinsidently, this revelation came at about the same time as Dave read “Eat the Ugly Frog First” in one of his assignments.  What does this mean?  Simply put, do what needs to be done before doing what you want to do.  You’ll feel a sense of accomplishment, and have one more item checked off your to-do list.

The third, and probably greatest, benefit I see, is that I see the love and support the four of us all share for each other.  We are constantly there for each other, and by “we”, I truly mean ALL of us.  Things 1 and 2 (and I!) are extremely excited that their “Best Dad” is in school, Dave and I are supportive of them in school and sports, and the three of them are all supportive of whatever I do.  This family dynamic continues to amaze me, as it’s not what I (or the boys) knew only a couple of years ago.

I can never say it enough, but THANK YOU to all of you who have been there for me/us through the years.  It’s with your love, support and encouragement that we have gotten to where we are now, and for that we are EXTREMELY grateful.

XOXOXO

The Last Pair in the Drawer

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Yes, I’m talking about underwear.  And I believe the pair you put on can impact how your day goes.

For me, it’s always the same dilemma.  I’m rushing to get dressed, and while I have a basket (or two) of laundry waiting to be folded (with clean undies inside) I’m not willing to put on my robe and go downstairs to fetch them.

So I dig.

I push aside socks.

I check the back corners of the drawer where I know there’s nothing hiding.  If I weren’t so pressed for time I would probably check inside a sock or few.  I just don’t want to wear that last pair.  They are not me.  They were bought as one of those Victoria Secret “Buy _ for $___” deals, and I figured it was my chance to try a different cut. 

Yea, that cut doesn’t work.  At all.

So to my friends, family and co-workers on those days, my apologies.  If I act like I have something up my butt, I really do.  Blame in on the last pair.