Laundry is my bane. I truly detest it. I'm not loving dishes (although, with a dishwasher they are bearable) and cleaning bathrooms is just so-so. I actually enjoy vacuuming because it means the floor is clean enough to see.
But laundry...ick. I think it is because it takes so long. I like to start a project and finish it. The dishes I can tackle and then stand back and be proud of a job well done. But laundry...you spend ALL day doing it and then there are still piles to put away. And if you don't put them away, they either end up on the floor needing to be washed again or it's just more work for tomorrow. My children like to change outfits during the day and they will put the clothes they wore for twenty minutes in the hamper. Part of this is my fault; I stopped encouraging them to put their clothes back in their drawers after I would find macaroni stained shirts when I put the clean laundry away.
I tend to get a bit feisty now when I see them changing clothes. If they knew how much I hated laundry they would understand why I start to breathe fire when I see them in the third pair of pants for the day. My motto is: "Don't worry, it will dry" (unless it is pee—come on, I am not that heartless).
I try to stay on top of laundry, but it breeds in the corners and under the beds, and then there is the random laundry like the slip cover that needs changing every so often, and don't get me started on the beds. Sheets tend to stay on the beds longer than recommended (once again, unless the kids pee on them) because it just means MORE laundry.
Anyway, I only mention this because Tyler who doesn't do much of the laundry (I am NOT blaming here—if I could get out of it, I would too) washed load after load after load last night so I could just fold and put away today. I was folding my last batch of laundry and Daisy was getting fussy. I picked her up off the floor and cradled her in my arms while I continued to fold and then she proceeded to puke in the hamper of clean clothes.
COME ON, BABY!! CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?
It was only five items of clothing that never even reached a drawer but instead went straight back into my bane box (also known as the laundy hamper). Sadly, one of them was my blue sweater which she did the unkindly justice of spitting-up all over on the 7th (I remember, I was at Ready to Learn sitting by Deanne). It then got left in the car for over a week, finally to be retrieved and washed, only to be spit-up on again before it even got worn. Ah, the injustice.
The prophet said this last conference, "If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will—to your surprise—miss them profoundly."
Fingerprints - yes
Toys - maybe
Laundry - never!