Laundry Hell

by Samantha on March 9, 2011

I have been relegated to laundry hell for all eternity. Or at least it seems that way. Perhaps “Hell” is not the place where I find myself. Perhaps it is a Laundry Limbo of sorts; at least with this option there is hope of future salvation.

Between twin boys who have not yet learned the  advanced skill of aiming for the mouth - and succeeding; a school-aged girl who through her creative actions manages to cover most, if not all of her clothes with either mud, a rainbow of paint colours, glue and/or all of the above, and two adults who seem to effortlessly add to the burgeoning pile daily, I have my work cut out for me. Oh yes, the “adult” pile is comprised of two sets of my own clothes - work and casual - to further complicate matters (Read: “dry cleaning” and “hand-wash only” items). Did I mention that I work full-time outside the home as well?

I equate laundry with cockroaches: they both proliferate at incredibly fast speeds.
To use another analogy, like a stealth bomber, both will sneak up on you before you know it and boom - once you realize it, it is too late

The resulting effect in both instances is chaos…though with the laundry scenario, one will be experiencing the situation in something my mother always worried about: wearing dirty clothes. This is just not acceptable (as I hear her voice in my head).

And as sad as it may seem, laundry is the bane of my existence. It burdens me during the day and it haunts me at night. It is at once a familiar friend and an indomitable foe. At times I am ironically comforted by the banality of yet another load; it allows me time to daydream while cleaning out the lint drawer. Similarly, there are other moments when the burgeoning pile of clothes is so overwhelming, abhorrent and downright infuriating that I struggle to stop myself from striking a match and turning the blasted mound of clothes into a manageable pile of ashes.

Having 5,000 kids, laundry is a big part of my life.

Yet I can’t seem to get on top of it (figuratively, not literally). Despite my best intentions and no matter how hard I try, the pile gets the better of me. As a matter of fact, it does better than that. It takes over the house.

At any given time, pick a room. Any room. There’s laundry in it. Surprise!

This fact alone drives me crazy.

So…with this long-winded preamble, I’ll put it out there to you all in the hopes that there is a secret to getting on top of (again, figuratively) this pile. Help!

Are you, too, languishing in laundry hell?

How do you “get on top of” the ever-growing loads of laundry in your household?

What are your tips for “managing the mound?”

really look forward to your feedback!
Images courtesy of and
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