Translate

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Laundry penitence for growing up...

I hate laundry.

I don't mean the usual way that people hate keeping their house together. I genuinely hate laundry with an unholy passion. There is just something about it that makes me mad.

I enjoy unloading the dishwasher. I also actually kinda enjoy mowing. Both of those things are instant gratification where I can readily and easily see the outcome of the work I have put into them. Laundry... well,  laundry notsomuch. The stains I can't get out are reminders I fail at being a true Suzy homemaker, the wrinkles are a flag that I am not always on the very tippy top of the ball that I try to balance on, but mostly there is just something about laundry that makes me wish I had a magic room in my house like when I was a little kid.

Yes, you too had a magic room in your home when you were little... Ya know the room you dropped off your dirty clothes at and the sainted woman ( or even man ) who was in charge of your care would wash, fold, and stack your nasty stinky clothes... no matter what ickiness you got yourself into. For me it's one of the most wonderful selfless loves that someone can have for another, taking care of their nasty laundry.

I love cooking for my family:  dinner, breakfast, unique variations on regular family favorites, candies, baked cookies, pies, & cakes. I love seeing my family dive in and enjoy the food I prepare for them. I get to enjoy the "ohhhh" and "awww" of cooking. I have yet to see anyone jump up and down for you handing them their clean undies. Although for the things I have witnessed being a parent, people really should. Kids do things to and in their clothes, I had no idea could even be possible until I took on the task myself. Of all the crazy advice that I received when I was pregnant about how to be a good mom,  ya know the unsolicited kind that people feel free to tell you just because you have a enormous belly, no one warned me enough about how gross and awful laundry can be.

I hate laundry: the smell, the length of time it takes, sorting, folding, hanging, sorting again, putting away, deciding the perfect cycle for the different temperaments of the clothing, hanging dry the delicates or things that will shrink to oompa loopa sizes if dryed. Truly one of the only things I like about laundry is the moment the warm and fuzzy laundry comes out of the dryer. If I had it my way, I'd crawl into my bed and pile the warm laundry on top of myself and snuggle in for a good nap... but the wrinkles would make me wash the whole pile again. Ugh.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not a fan of the weird swamp like mildew smell laundry gets when you leave it in the washing machine too long before you place it in the dryer. It makes me gag. Sigh. Too bad Ray Bradbury didn't invent a machine that did both. I can leave clean dishes in my dishwasher and my dishes don't get dirty again... but leave your already cleaned laundry in the wash...BAM! Swamp thing has been wearing your socks.

I like wearing clean clothes, hate the idea of my family smelling icky, and don't like the idea of people visually seeing how messy I can be, so I will continue to do laundry; however, let it be known, I hate laundry.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Silence not so golden...

Today I find myself with time on my hands and an empty house....

 J2 is at his dad's house as per our regular schedule.J1 is at his mom's house catching up and enjoying some time with the other side of his family.The man is at work earning a living and taking care of his responsibilities as head of the house.Which at final count in a house of 4 leaves only one. 

Yes, there are dogs, fish, and a cat. However, the emptiness of a house isn't silenced by the water tinkling of fish tanks or the fur rustling of two overly spoiled fat dogs. I am at a loss of what to do with myself. I tried social interaction of that evil devil FB... I made myself a real lunch...all left me feeling weird. I haven't been alone since I was pregnant with J2 and home resting hoping that he would get bored and make his escape;
 he didn't for another 3 weeks and only then because we all but used a cattle prod. 

So here lies my problem. Silence is supposed to be golden. And honestly, I can understand how in the middle of our day to day lives that are filled with: daycare drop offs, papers to grade, dinners to make, laundry to wash, dishes to do, animals to feed, lesson plans to think through and rethink, romance to plan to build and preserve a relationship, entertainment to think up and provide for the children... and all the little things that sneak into our lives that try to push us all apart where we think that silence is exactly what we what.
The real truth about silence is that silence isn't what we really what.  I have never daydreamed about a day I spent in silence. I have never taken photographs of a day I did nothing. I have flipped through pictures of days of absolute chaos and drama, also known as kid birthday parties or Christmas with the family. Neither of those had a moment of silence. I have reminisced about days of loud noises and laughter. 

Silence isn't golden. Silence for me is like the deepest part of the ocean... completely overwhelming, deep, dark, and pressure from each and every side. The only pressure I feel in silence is how to fill it with productivity and the guilt of not using it "good" enough.

I can't wait for the noisy beings of my family to come home... silence sucks. 

Monday, July 2, 2012

Summa time Summa time..Summ Summ Summer Timmmmeee..

I have started 2 seperate blogs before.. and numerous journals... and all have gone to the wayside.

I am attempting to blog/journal as a way of reflecting on  all the things I do right, laughing at the chaos involved with being a mom, woman, teacher ( both literally and figuretively) and being an adult. I have no idea how it is that I actually made it to adulthood, or even how it seemed to sneak up on me that I was actually an adult... and yet.. Here I am with a home, a career, an family, car payments  the whole gammit of adulthood....

So here's to the belief that it tales only 3 times of doing something to start a habit... and hopeing that this time it sticks....

May all our adventures be worth writing about or easily compared to things that are easy to write about ;)