So here is my first effort, with pictures! Just think of all the shit I'm not doing to make time to take pictures, and upload and embed them!! I'm also not cooking dinner, and I'm pretty sure one of my lovely charges has pooped since I started this post!
The laundry, Part 1.
With three kids, two of whom are not toileted, everything in our house has been peed on (or worse) at some stage or other. It makes for a LOT of washing. One load a day does not cut it, and barely keeps the various piles from gaining grimy consciousness and taking over the joint, bent on plans of stinky pee-soaked world domination. I mean, we own 6 single mattress protectors, three brolly sheets (one for a queen bed), four chair pads (and here), and several bedspreads and rugs whose sole remaining purpose is the prevent the soaking of wee into our couches and other important seating areas. Snail gets about, when not in her chair, by bumsliding, and need I point out that this is NOT conducive to saving ones nappies from leaking out the sides, with tragic if predictable effect, often up to four times a day! Keeping people round here in clean pants is like my main job these days. TMI? Not nearly enough "I" in my opinion! If I have to clean it up, you can at the very least read about it :p
So yeah, a lot of washing.
Here is the laundry after we did, I shit you not, 4 full loads (teenager) on Sunday, and 3 loads (yours truly) yesterday. And it still looks like this!
And I couldn't even get the laundry sink with the pee soaked pants soaking in Milton in the shot, but they're there. Behind the blue basket on top of the washing machine.
And yes, I do use the dryer most of the time. Come live here before judging me!
I swear that I can only count the number of times I've been able to see the bottom of every basket in there on one hand. Possibly only one finger. It's like some kind of fundamental law of physics that not all our laundry can be clean at one time. Our house may collapse into some alternative, and clean, space-time continuum. Or something.
The laundry, Part 2.
I don't mind washing and drying. I am quite violently opposed to putting away. Hence our clean laundry sits in sorted baskets in the spare room, waiting for the Mt Foldmore fairy to call.
|Sorting people's clothes into individual baskets counts, right?|
He clearly has lost our address. This makes it hard to maintain my dignity when nagging Smash to put his washing away. At least I don't store our clean stuff on the floor, generously mixed with the dirty stuff. Come on, that means I win, right???
The Spare Room.
|The Spare Room (with Capitals).|
This is THAT room in our house. Most people have 'em. Even our cupboard under the stairs (a la Harry Potter) is tidy and organised. But the Spare Room is that spot where all our unused stuff goes to wait for death or recycling to other families. The piano only I can play (but never do), held in limbo while we wait to see if Lolly has an interest. The walking machine (that's all I'm going to say about that). The sewing area crammed in as an afterthought, coz Goddess forbid I could set up my stuff in a NICE spot where it was pleasant and easy to get to, and had all my thing in it! The aforementioned laundry and innumerable baskets. The toys and kid stuff that no one is the right age for yet/anymore but that we can't get rid of for some spurious reason. The spare bookcase that I Have Plans For. Storage baskets. DinnerDads bike gear. The fan, when it's not hot. The heater, when it is. You know, that stuff. You know you've got some too, in your version of our Spare Room. The Things You've Let Slide.