Folded Laundry

I feel like the basket of folded laundry sitting on my baby's floor for the past 2 days is a metaphor for my life lately. People say that adding a second child doesn't double the amount of work you do, it quadruples it. I'm not sure I completely agree with that statement at all, but adding a second child definately does add work.

Monday is laundry day at our house. It's been that way for a year now. Every Monday I load up the washer with mulitple loads of laundry, wash it and dry it during the morning while I play with Anne. When she goes down for her nap, I finish up a few chores, dry the last bit of it then settle down to watch TV while I fold it. Monday's are an easy day where I get to relax and start the week slowly. When the laundry is folded-no later than Monday night usually-I put it away. Sometimes it takes til Tuesday during her nap to get it put away but then the chore is done...until I have to do it in another 5 days.

Since Jamie has been born laundry day has been a little different. I still get it all washed on Monday...mostly. Maybe throw in that final load on Tuesday morning. The laundry probably doesn't get completely dry on Monday though...that usually gets done by nap time on Tuesday...okay, if I'm honest, by the end of nap time on Tuesday. On Monday I might get a chance to fold one load...I usually wash 4-5 loads. Monday night I swear I'll fold it during John and my TV time while the kids are sleeping. I usually forget. Tuesday I wake up, eager and full of resolve to finish this chore and check it off my to-do list. By Tuesday night-after the kids are asleep, I promise myself that tomorrow the laundry will be completely folded. I promise. Wednesday comes and we run a few errands, head to a play date, or do something that takes us out of the house. We get home late, naps are late, Jamie needs extra comforting because his nap is an hour overdue...by the time everyone is settled down I have 45 minutes until it's time to get them all up again. By Thursday I'm determined to finish it. And I do. I put all other chores aside and buckle down and finish folding the laundry. Now I have nice neat piles, piled up in laundry baskets just waiting to be put away. When Jamie wakes up, I take his basket into his room, put it on the floor, intending to put it away while he plays with his baby gym. But I forgot that Anne is awake and she wants to color or go to the park. And dinner has to be started in 30 minutes and Jamie needs to be fed and changed. And so the basket sits on his floor. I still can't check it off my to-do list. So Friday comes. My only goal today is getting the laundry put away. I not only have his basket to put away but another one for John and I. Sometime during the week I managed to put away a load or two with all the spare time I have lying around (hear sarcasm in that when you read...). So I decide before his morning nap I will put it away, because I can't put it away, after all, while he is sleeping. But his nap runs late and there is no time. Okay then, when he wakes up. But I get busy with errands or crafts and I miss my second chance of the day. And then it's like "Groundhog's Day" and by the end of the day I've missed all my chances. Saturday I am more determined than ever...and I succeed. Because Daddy takes Anne on an outing and I have time to breathe and feel the space around me. I can finally mark this off my to-do list. Sigh. Accomplishment. Such pleasure derived from the tiniest of actions. And then it's Sunday and I decide to get a jump on Monday and I throw in a load before lunch...and it all starts over again...