Laundry and why I hate it

I know - it's a completely mundane topic, but one that's relevant to my life right now, and since it's my blog - I'm just going to bitch a little about it.  (On a side note, my cousin Nicky is continuing to improve, but it's long and slow and hard.  It's the nature of this type of injury, the damage was so severe, it's going to take time to heal.  But everyone seems optimistic - he's got sensation back, and the theory is that if there's sensation then eventually there will be motion as well).

Okay - so back to laundry.  For the longest time, laundry has been my favorite chore.  Well, that and vacuuming - because it's so EASY to see tangible results afterwards.  A freshly vacuumed floor screams productivity in a way that doing the dishes does not.  Because I've always got new dishes to do.  Always.  I'm never done.  Ever.  And laundry - laundry used to be a joy.  An empty laundry basket was delightful.  I could wash/dry/fold/put away and it was done.  

But then I had Julie.  I blame her.  Not really her exactly, but I had that third kid - and now I'm never, ever, ever caught up.  Ever.  I'm not exaggerating.  I do a load (or two, or three) a day, and the folding is never ending.  Even if I do manage to get anything folded, I'm never going to actually get it put away.  And if I ever do put it away, I've got a load waiting to fold, one in the dryer and one in the washer waiting for me.  This week was crazy - I was stressed out, worried and BUSY, trying to keep up with any new developments with Nicky.  And I didn't fold.  At all.  I washed clothes - and dried, and put them in the basket.  And washed them, dried them, and put that basket on top of the other one, until I had a mountain of clean clothes stacked up in the bathroom and was too afraid to start folding.  It seemed like a job that, once started, would consume me and I'd never ever stop.

So today, in a fit of inspiration, I dumped all the clothes out onto the floor, and lined four empty clothes baskets up.  One for me, one for Marc, one for the boy and one for the girls.  Marc jumped on his basket and immediately took it (understandably - he's afraid I'd stack them all back up and call it a day).  I then systematically went thru Sam's dresser and completely reorganized it.  We played "let's see what still fits" and I put together two big bags of clothes to donate.  Then I emptied out his basket, with everything in the right drawer.

Tomorrow - I have to do the girls.  And I'm scared.  That's a LOT of clothes, especially because I have to sort thru what still fits and what doesn't.  Julie has outgrown a lot, and Jessie just needs her wardrobe weeded thru - she's got more clothes than the rest of us combined.