A Mountain of Laundry

As a mother of three, the ever-growing mountain of laundry never seems to let up … always calling to me whenever I manage to find a moment to rest. I have come to resent the sorting, the inside-out socks, and the wet towels that failed to dry before being thrown into the tangle of fabric.

There’s an order for laundry load management that takes special care. I start a load of darks first because Veronica wants to wear her favorite horse shirt tomorrow – she and her bestie (she calls all of her friends her “besties” lately) are planning to match. I love how exciting something as simple as matching shirts is at this age. She’s growing up so quickly. I know all parents say that about their little ones – but oh, how my heart swells with elation at seeing a new phase unfold while, at the same time, it breaks as another stage is left behind. So yes, my sweet Veronica, I will take in every moment of this bubbly phase that you are in and I will make sure that your horse shirt is clean.

Careful now, don’t add too much to the load so the machine doesn’t get off-balance, but don’t forget to throw in Caidence’s ripped jeans. You know, not the ripped jeans that have two large holes in the knees, but the ones that have the small ones on the thighs? Yes, those! Don’t be silly, mom, I can’t wear the black jeans with the blue top. She’s finding herself, finding her style, changing it often as she discovers what she likes and dislikes. Her image matters to her – how she presents herself to the world. I love that she has always been true to herself and doesn’t follow, she leads. So yes, of course Caidence, I will have those jeans ready for you to take on the world tomorrow.

Sorting through Henry’s clothes is a bittersweet task. His little spiderman shirts and dump truck pajamas that don’t fold down as small as I’d like. It seems like we just got these overalls, which tend to get pushed to the back of the drawer when choosing an outfit for the day, and now they are getting too small. But those little overalls were too big on him when I bought them just a few short months ago. I had high hopes of a cute creekside photoshoot in them, but they’ve only been worn a handful of times and it makes me a little sad when I fold them one last time before placing them in the donate pile.

I sit up late in the night, folding laundry and planning the day ahead. Making sure everyone has what they need. Taking care of my precious babies. Little piles of love folded on the kitchen table.

Hooks Party of five

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