2.27.2011
Don't open the drawers!
I used to be excessively organized over laundry. Years ago, as a stay-at-home-mom with just one little bitty baby, I washed all her laundry separately in Dreft and ironed, hung, folded each precious outfit. I sanitized every spot and everything Madeline owned gleamed like new. I prided myself to take such care. My little laundry room had shelves and hangers and was a pristine work-area.
We had a guest bathroom, and the color scheme was gold and navy. The towels were folded and piled in opposites: gold, blue, gold, blue, gold, blue. The soap was always carefully replaced upon a little pedestal of perfectly folded washcloths. My linen closet was organized by sheet size and color.
My dresser was super organized with panties rolled up into little tubes and PJs stacked in coordinated sets. If my husband needed a sweater, I could tell you exactly how many down in the drawer it was, and on which side. "The blue and gold sweater is on the right, fourth one down." All his socks were rolled. I ironed every businessman shirt (or sent it out to be cleaned and boxed). Our walk-in closet was worthy of a photograph, with occasion, style, and color coordination.
Then came baby number two... and I held in there as best I could.
Then came baby number three... and everything went to pot.
Today the clothes are lucky to make it to the drawers at all. I do have a drawer just for undies and socks, but those items are crammed in whilly-nilly and dug through each morning. The middle drawer, which should be for incidentals like jogging pants or swimsuits, is full of PJs and the PJ drawer is full of everything else. Nothing is folded...
Correction, it's folded when it goes in, but after surviving a day in the drawer, it's a jumbled mess.
The girls put away their own laundry. In two dressers, they do manage to have dedicated drawers (undies, dance shorts, socks, a drawer just for swimsuits, leggings) but their PJs live in a large plastic blue bin in their brother's closet, and school uniforms are in my back closet next to dad's suits. Though they have dedicated space to keep things organized, I cannot account for the condition WITHIN the drawers. Again, jumbled, dug through, and willy-nilly. Half the time they don't get the danged drawers shut anyway; things are so bad in there.
At this stage, I just hate laundry. And, because I am so
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