Take that, Laundry Monster!

I must confess…I feel a little ridiculous posting this.  I imagine most decent mothers and homemakers have been doing this very thing since…well…forever.  But just in case anyone out there is buried under a pile of laundry with no foreseeable hope for the future…I will share the story of the new system that has completely changed the face of my battle against the laundry monster.

If this is all a re-run for you, you are welcome to use this time to throw in a load of laundry.

First…a before shot.  There is no picture.  I don’t need that kind of humiliation.  But allow me to describe the situation:

I have a laundry room.  I realize that puts me in the minority of women lucky enough to have a door to close on the whole mess when it gets out of control.  I don’t have to lug laundry to the basement; my washer and dryer aren’t out in view for the world to see.  However, it’s a small, windowless room, into which my children always thought they should just chuck their dirty laundry.  In the last several months, the small space has become even smaller due to the fact that I put a big, industrial shelving unit in there so I could store my little girls’ clothes where they can’t reach them.  (Ugh…that’s a story unto itself!)

So picture the scene:  Small room with laundry all over the floor.  Very bad.  And the worst part is that the pile was ever-replenishing:  As I would process load after load of laundry, more would show up to take its place.  Very discouraging.  This really caused problems because little things—like socks and child-sized underwear—always worked their way to the bottom of the stack, often putting me on the receiving end of an inquisition:

Mom…why I don’t have any panties!  Where are all the socks?!  I’m out of bras!

Very irritating.

Well, it’s not altogether pretty, but here’s what I did:

• I found four tall laundry hampers in the house.  None of them match.  But such is life at Stately Bennett Manor!
• I labeled them with words and pictures.  (I took pictures of some of our actual clothes rather than waste time searching through magazines or catalogs.) 
• My categories are #1) underwear, socks, towels, sheets, white clothes; #2) anything made of denim, Kuk Sool Won uniforms, and camouflage pants; #3) dark colors; #4) everything else.
• I called the kids together and gave them a brief tutorial.
• I quizzed them by handing them pieces of laundry off the mountain and asking the kids to file them correctly.
• They caught on so quickly (and actually thought it was so fun!) that, in no time, they had sorted Mt. Laundry to its very foundation!
• I located and swept the laundry room floor.

Kinda makes you want to cry, doesn't it?

Now, in truth, I subdivide my laundry a little more than that…and I regularly run into something that has been mis-sorted…but since the closet that serves as the home for our laundry system is directly across the hall from the laundry room, I don’t even have to leave the room to get the wayward article into its rightful place…and it’s improving my hook shot!  And going through the “Everything Else” hamper to separate bright colors from more muted ones is really not a big deal as far as I’m concerned…especially compared to the conditions I’ve been working under for over 20 years!

When it’s laundry time (so…every day), I assess which basket is closest to overflowing, and that’s where the day’s battle starts.

Sam, Hannah, and Mercy (who really was having fun!)

And here’s the most amazing thing:  I’ve had a clean, well-organized laundry room ever since!  The kids are sorting faithfully!  Every day, I overhear one of them ask another something along the lines of, “Is this a ‘dark’ or an ‘everything else’?”

They’re learning how this part of life works, and that will only make it easier to teach them how to take over for me as soon as they can reach the dials and knobs!

Oh, wait…maybe my next acquisition should be a step-stool!

Blessings!

Missy

 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
   for all of them are clothed in scarlet. 

Proverbs 31:21

The laundry closet serves double-duty as the school closet.  Talk about one-stop shopping!

Of March Snowfalls and Dog Biscuits

Here in Illinois, we have had a weirdly wimpy winter.  Many would disagree with me, but we have had WAY too little snow and entirely too few winter storms for my liking.  I'm sorry...I know a lot of people around here hate winter, but to me, there is just something so cozy about knowing we couldn't get out even if we wanted to.  I love snuggling up, wearing jammie pants all day, making cookies, and calling a snow day (even though, truth be told, we rarely have trouble making it to the kitchen table for school even in the worst of weather). 

Call me crazy, but I just love watching the wind blow the snow around outside when my family is nice and warm inside.

However, in typical Illinois fashion, we got a really nice snow just about the time the snow-lovers had thrown in the towel...and right about the time the snow-haters had started to gloat.  Last Sunday, on Grace's 15th birthday (which is another story entirely!) we were the recipients of just such a snowfall.  We left the church after evening services to walk across the yard to Ye Olde Parsonage, and this is what it looked like:

 

Yeah...I know it's not a great picture, but you need to understand that I took it while juggling several small children, a couple boxes of leftover pizza, and a plate of birthday cake.  It looked a little better in the morning when I stepped out onto the front porch in my socks and captured this:

Pretty, right?  I actually have a whole blog post on my mental back-burner, simmering away with my thoughts from that walk across the snow to get home from church.  That should be done cooking in a day or so--probably after I reveal the significance of that mysterious star-shaped object that lives in my bathroom cabinet!

But anyway...on Monday, I couldn't in good conscience ask the kids to do a full day of school when I knew that, sadly, this was probably going to be their last opportunity to play in the snow until next winter.  So whenever they came inside to warm up, I would make them tackle a subject, then set them free again.

About lunchtime, I told Daniel to call our dog Josie into the garage to warm up while we had lunch.  He called her and called her--and since she's a short-haired dog, I just knew that she would want to head into her warm igloo.  When she didn't gallop right into the garage, I started to get a little concerned, but then I looked out the French doors onto the deck.

Here's a shot from early in the day, while kids were still in their pj's.

Up against the house, there was a 12-inch strip of the deck that wasn't snow-covered.  Maybe it had already melted as the temperature crept up on Monday or perhaps it had been protected by the house and hadn't been covered with snow to begin with, but Josie had found a place to sit where she wasn't perched on snow, and that was good enough for her!

I stood at the window, and I watched her.  

She was at attention.  She could hear her Daniel calling for her--and she just loves her kids!

She knew that, inside the garage, it was warm and dry...there was food and water...

But between her and where she wanted to be, there was snow that had to be crossed.

I could almost hear the fight going on inside her:  

• It's Daniel!  Daniel!  Let's go!
• My feet are cold!  Let's stay put!
• The igloo!  The food!  The water!  Daniel!
• Oh...it's not so bad here.  Look...my feet are dry!
• Food!
• Oh...I'm not hungry.  Very.
• It's warm in there!
• Gee...I'm really OK here.  It's not so bad...

And I looked at her, and I thought, Oh, baby...I know just how you feel!

How many times have I backed myself into a tiny little corner of...not real comfort...but of a reduced discomfort?

How well do I know that desire to be restored to true joy and safety and warmth...but I just can't stand the thought of the transient pain that is required to get there?

How often have I stood there, considering what that step onto the snow was going to cost me?

And how sad is it that a one-year old puppy should be the best teacher at our house that day?

To her credit, Josie finally stepped onto the snow and slush and galloped off to answer the call of her Daniel...but not before she reminded me that, no matter what I have done to snow myself into a spiritual corner, I am never going to be truly content if I'm perched anywhere outside the center of God's will for me.

And the more quickly I respond to His call, the sooner I'll find myself back in the only place where the merely acceptable is replaced by true joy.  

And doggie biscuits.

Blessings!

Missy

 “The son said to [his father], 

‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 

I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

   “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! 

Bring the best robe and put it on him. 

Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  

Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate.  

For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; 

he was lost and is found.’ 

                                      So they began to celebrate.

Luke 15:21-24 

March 1st: I can't stop posting pictures!

Oh, see...now look what's happened!  I can't stop!  I see something photo-worthy about every five minutes, and I think, "Yes!  Totally a blog picture!"

Well, self-imposed assignment or not, this was just too cute not to share...

If you read yesterday's post, you know that Sweet Jimmy B went to Harrisburg, Illinois, to help with disaster relief after the devastating tornado that went through.  Last night, I did what I almost always do when My Buddy is gone:  I stayed up too late, puttering around with this and that, then watched a little mindless TV until I couldn't possibly keep my eyes open.

This morning, Mary told me that it must be kind of nice when Daddy is gone because I can sprawl over the whole bed if I want to.  (This is a seven-year old's idea of a silver lining.)  I had to break it to her that I really stay on my side, and I don't sleep very well because I keep waking up, wondering why Daddy isn't on his side of the bed.

I could see the wheels turning.  Wheels turning is Mary's usual condition, but I could tell the RPM's were increasing.  Then, sly dog that she is, she said, "There's no reason I'm asking, but how do you get to where you write a note on the computer?"

By the time I got to the computer, she had figured it out for herself.  Someone help me with this kid!

A little while later, she banned me from my own bedroom.

That's because she thought the appropriate way to cheer me up when I was missing Daddy would be to at least make my bed a pretty place:

 Here's a close-up of that note on the pillow:

We took today off from school so we could get some housekeeping done.  (We like it when Daddy comes home to a cleaner house than the one he left.)  It was nice of Mary to contribute without being asked...and she exercised her computer skills to boot!

Now I better get to work myself!

Blessings!

Missy

Don't you see that children are God's best gift?
      the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?

Psalm 127:3 (The Message)