Dirty Laundry

I love doing laundry.

Really.

I think it may have started when our laundry room moved upstairs.  My washer and dryer used to be in the garage (not exactly a laundry ROOM).  I used to collect the clothes from the hampers upstairs and just throw the clothes over the banister to land with a *PLOP* in the entry way where I would then separate the piles.  There they would stay all day until I got through all the piles.  Not a good day to receive visitors.

{bannister, back in the day}

{present day entry way}

And don’t even get me started on getting the clean clothes (did I mention that the clothes were being washed in the GARAGE??) back up the stairs and folded, etc. etc.

It was a good day when we created an actual room INSIDE THE HOUSE where laundry could be processed in a bright and clean room, right next to where the clothes are!

It was an even better day when the hubster gave me a little tv for the laundry room on Mother’s Day one year.  Guilt free viewing.  Suddenly, everything was getting folded right away.  I can’t explain it.  Genius on his part, I think.

Anyway.  I know I may have ranted on occasion about laundry: HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE {um, I guess this is a theme for me, maybe counseling is in order}.  I really do love the whole process.  The gathering, the sorting, the spot removing, the processing, the folding, the stacking.  BUT NOT the putting away.  I don’t love that part, I don’t know why.

I love that it can all be done in a day and for a brief moment, everything can be CLEAN.  It’s a very orderly process.   And, I can immediately see progress!  At the end there is this bar graph of clothing and linen stacks.  It’s better than a crossed out “To-Do” list (which I also love, by the way).

It takes little thought to do the laundry, so it’s a great time to think and process and plan for the week (and to watch the Bachelorette without snide comments from the peanut gallery—GIVE LOVE A CHANCE!  Sheesh). 

I’ve talked about football laundry, and it is truly gross.  But today when I’m only doing laundry for Jeff and I (Bryce is in Utah with his brother), I must say I wouldn’t mind a little football laundry to do.

One time when Tyler was home from school, I gathered his laundry as usual and began washing it.  He told me, “Mom, I can do that.  You don’t have to do that for me.”  He didn’t understand that I actually wanted to do his laundry for him.  It’s an act of love for me.  I love to take care of my boys.* 

*Disclaimer:  I don’t love cleaning their pee off the toilets.  True story.