Laundry Issues

I manage the laundry for a household of seven, including a cloth-diapered infant and a two-year-old potty-trainee. I don't have time to take a shower, let alone time for extra steps in washing clothes.

So, why does my clothesline look like this today?



I think we can all agree that I need some help. Do you think there are therapists that deal with laundry obsessions?

Playing {Mad} House

I must admit to swinging on the playground of emotions. Especially of late. Certain days of my life as Keeper of the Home are such fun that I feel as if I'm playing house. Other days I walk through laundry piles, tossed shoes, scattered books, smeared food and feel anxiety, exhaustion and anger overtake me. Of course, the house is usually clean (or clean in significant parts) on the good days.
So why are my emotions so closely tied to my home? This seems wrong. Shouldn't I be more even?

Happily, today is a clean-house day and we're having fun.

And then...

I took children with me to the grocery store.

Picking and Choosing.

It is a beautiful Saturday, with a clean kitchen. Our typical Big Breakfast was exchanged for a visit to the bakery. So without my usual clean-up to do, shall I craft or garden? Both tasks sound gratifying, and both promise to be oft-interrupted!

Stray Dog Powers

See these children? They thought they wanted to go to The Zoo today. Or an indoor playground, on account of the rain. They are a Zoo unto themselves, and the overcast day has not driven them indoors. All they need is Grammy's flower-filled backyard and each other.

Of course, they may have actually spent more time naming and describing their imaginary selves than actually play acting.

"My name's Elizabeth and I have the power to make someone invisible."

"My name's Fighter, cause I fight."

"My name's Lightening, because I have a lightning streak on me -- I was just born that way. I am a mix of a Golden Retriever, Great Dane and a Dalmatian. I'm all white with a lightning streak on me."

"I am a Poodle, with black on me."

"I'm a mix of a Chihuahua and a Bull Dog." (Care to guess which one that is?)

And then --

"A Human!"

"The Dog Catcher! Into the force field house!"

They really don't have to fear; the clamor they create would keep any Animal Control Personnel away. You can't bring that inside and cage it, that amount of noise is sure to cause physical damage.

They didn't know I was listening in to their imagination collaboration until I told them they couldn't play "Mating Dogs Having Puppies." I'm a Meanie Mom, I know.

Here are a few of them, wondering why Grammy (the Dog Catcher? Or a more friendly human?) won't unlock the gate to her back yard.

Are you kidding? We can't unleash that sort of force out into the neighborhood.

I asked them what they called their game. "Stray Dog Powers." I call it better than cartoons, folks. Better than cartoons.

Baby Tears

I'm extra-tired today.
That explains why I nearly cried.
I was holding Baby, and she was not crying.
Sometimes the perfectness of rounding little arms and legs, the brightness of two round eyes edged by fragile eyelashes, the cooing "O" of a mouth, the wispy hair... well, sometimes the beauty of my Baby makes me cry.
Maybe because she is so sweet. Maybe because a baby is so hopeful and pure in this ugly, evil world. Maybe because I love all five of my babies so much I hurt.

Or maybe because I am tired.

More of the Same to Come

I have several posts started, both in my mind and on the computer. But children's baseball and early summer produce is taking over my life!

Hmm...

Boredom

"I'm so bored."
This is Sammy's response to my "I love you so much, I'm glad you're my kid" statement.
I want to tell him that only boring people get bored, but he's reading over my shoulder, so maybe I don't have to. Maybe I just have to tell him to take the clothes off the line.

Happy Summer Vacation.