Life Laundry

As a parent I try to celebrate every milestone, every stepping stone on the growth of my children. It can be hard to see the great successes sometimes, although there are days that I celebrate that I made it to the end with the same number of children I started out with.

Today is one of those days. Today I am celebrating the life laundry.

I found the bottom of my washbasket.

I was surprised to see it was white. I don’t know why I was surprised it was white, the washbasket is (after all) white in colour.  Maybe it was just that I’d not seen it in a few weeks months. My old friend; the bookmark for a day off washing clothes, drying clothes, folding clothes, putting away clothes.

The family did their best today not to keep my hopes up, to ensure that I wouldn’t get too excited in anticipation of clearing the washbasket.

The 14 year old kindly cleared a number of winter coats into the washbasket. It was very considerate of her, because I had a miraculous moment when I pulled them out. Once the red fog lifted I realised I could see the white, glowing from the bottom of the basket.

In the process of my epic-laundry marathon in the past week, I’ve discovered that hubby is the proud owner of enough pairs of socks to last him until April. Yes. April. That’s fantastic news. I’m delighted for him. I’m not so sure the children are as they have to match them all and put them into pairs.  In the interests of parenting, I’m calling it lifeskills, patience and fine motor training rolled into one.

We have realised that we don’t actually need all these clothes. Some don’t fit us quite as well as they should, some have holes are threadbare, then there are the clothes that don’t quite fit us. They are the ones I may have shrunk in the washing process.

Over the past few days hubby has brought many black sacks (full of clean clothes) down to the local charity shops. We’ve resolved not to buy another stitch of clothing for a while and even if we do, what goes into the house must be matched by another item of equal size leaving the house.

No photo of the bottom of my washbasket for you though. It’s imprinted on my brain for now. I’m eagerly anticipating the day I manage to see it again. Probably this time next year knowing my luck!

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