I really really strongly really dislike doing laundry. I’m fairly particular about certain things in my house- I don’t like dirty dishes in the sink, our bed is always made, the floors are (almost) always clean, and I try not to let the kitchen table become a catch-all. But if you came to my house and saw my laundry room, you’d think I was raised by wolves. It’s a disaster. We call the crazy pile “Laundry Mountain.” Every time I throw something on top I just hope and pray the whole thing doesn’t come crashing down (it used to be whoever knocked it down had to deal with it- now I just refuse).
I should post a picture here of it, but to be we worked on it all weekend so the current scene in there doesn’t do it justice.
For a while there we had it down. I would fold a load while Jackson took a bath (they’re in the same room), then switch the W to the D. In the morning I’d throw a load in the W and set the timer so it was just getting done at that night’s bath time. Sounds great, right? Only if we actually do it… So the actual system is that either Seth & I spend the entire weekend washing, drying, and folding and then arguing all week about who didn’t put their clothes away. Which is usually me. Seth will even put my clothes on hangers and put them on a bar in the closet so all I need to do it put them where they go. Not that I can complain that he does that much, but it’s a basic organizational system- first sort by seasons (tanks, T’s, long-sleeves) then by color. Which in my closet is super easy. It’s either white, black, gray, or navy. Or that one crazy green shirt I bought 6 years ago. It has it’s own home. Nobody likes to hang out with her. So for a guy who organizes evvvveeeerrryyything via Excel, you think he’d get a minor 2 level sort (love you dear).
Otherwise, it builds and builds until my mom or my MIL comes to watch the kids and is frightened by that room and does it for us. At first I was mortified when this happened, but have since embraced it and get a little excited when they babysit knowing laundry is probably in a better state than it was when we left.
Now, having said that, I am crazy particular about how laundry is done for someone who almost refuses to do it myself. Certain things can/can’t be washed together, there are specific detergents for certain loads, and the way things are folded is very important. One night my mom was over as I folded dish towels and she asked if there was a particular way I liked them folded. I laughed. Nice to meet ya mom.
There are times I hope my kids don’t get my OCD on things like this, but then I come back to reality and remember that it’s not OCD, its just the proper way of doing things.
Laundry has to be a pain for everyone, right? How do you deal with it?