I keep promising to be more faithful about blogging, because I always think that NEXT WEEK is going to be the week when I get my life back under control. Only then NEXT WEEK arrives, and it becomes THIS WEEK, and NOPE! It’s every bit as busy, because we are the generation that signs our children up for everything, and then complain about how we actually live in our Suburbans.
Being this busy also interferes with getting the laundry done, but listen: I’ve NEVER been very faithful to the laundry-doing. But this past Sunday and Monday, I ran my washing machine like the owner’s manual probably preaches against. I’m sure somewhere there’s a paragraph that says, “Running this appliance at the speed of light is actually discouraged, because of wear and tear and also fire hazard.” I don’t know. All I know is that the boy whined one night, “I have to have my khaki pants on Tuesday, and they’ve been dirty since I was in the 4th grade.” And that pretty much was a word of genuine truth. So, Mama knuckled down like a real grownup version of herself, and she got the laundry CAUGHT UP.
Caught up, I said.
And then Mama pulled two back-to-back, twelve-hour days (which are how my EVERY Tuesday and Wednesday goes), and the folks around here wore clothes, and now… well... we are back to square one, because apparently that part about being all caught up on the laundry doesn’t take a break for anyone. So guess what I’m apparently doing again tomorrow? That’s right… washing Spider-Man undies and jeans and every manner of THREE-SHIRTS PER DAY that Hubs and the boy are determined to wear, to ward off the chill of twenty-two degrees. (There’s not a lot of difference between Hubs and the boy and a 92-year-old woman, when it comes to staying warm. Two shirts and a cardigan sweater, with a crumpled Kleenex stuffed up the sleeve, seems to be the wardrobe choice of all of them.) (Bless.)
So yes. I did feel like an honest-to-goodness grownup on Monday, when I sat back and looked at the EMPTY LAUNDRY BASKETS, with a sense of contentment like I haven’t felt since I turned in the last final my senior year of college. And this morning, I managed to put an entire ham into the crockpot, so there I am again… being all grownup and having dinner done ahead of time.
And do you know what else?
I will not lie. I am at that exact stage in my life. When the boy was little, we kept every Lego set separated in Ziploc baggies, with the instructions, because Mama had herself some OCD and desperate need to stay organized. With Thing 2, we throw Legos wherever they land, and Mama needs to confess that the contentment a miniature plastic brick gives her, as it rattles down the vacuum cleaner hose, is ENORMOUS.
Don’t tell my kid.
Y’all have a good weekend. May it be filled with cheer and happiness and good news and great friends.