Day after day the clothes pile up. They spill into the laundry room and cover the floor. As our family grows so do the demands of my most dreaded chore. I really have tried, may times, to keep up.
-Do all the laundry for the week on Monday – fail
-Do one load a day -fail
– Pack away most of the clothes and everybody gets ten outfits – ok, now this worked the best but still there is a floor covered in dirty clothes begging for attention – semi fail
I worry that it’s a matter of the heart. Is the lack of clean clothes telling my family that I have my priorities wrong? Yes. But at the same time I recognize who I am.
Wife to an amazing entrepreneur and football coach.
Mother to five small yet quickly growing children.
Friend and sister in Christ to many.
All these distractions pulling me in different directions. And I gladly forego the laundry. Hoping to find clean clothes in a hidden basket tomorrow. But I’ve finally found joy in laundry.
It’s extra work. It involves carrying heavy, wet clothing in a basket when I easily could have tossed it in the dryer. Pinning each and every shoulder to the line. There’s always the risk of a bird flying over, too…
But line drying rejuvenates this tired soul. The children may or may not join me. They normally help with the first shirt and then drift indoors. Which leave me alone with my thoughts. The breeze rustles the leaves. The birds chatter. I carefully hang each item. Taking note of how many of my girls have worn this shirt. How I now have little boy outfits dappled down the line. How soon will it be til I’m washing his football jersey? When will the girls stop wearing matching dresses? All too soon this line will hold only the clothes of my husband and myself.
So for now I will thank the Lord for these tiny rompers. The break from the every day to pause from the noise and remember how fleeting this season is. To appreciate these gifts, these blonde, curly haired, squeaky voiced, chubby thighed gifts.