Tag Archives: housework

Laundry Pile

My house has more than one.

Dirty clothes:

  • There’s the main dirty clothes hamper in the laundry area.
  • But there’s probably a messy pile of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor as I write this. Even though I scooped them all up once already today.
  • There’s also a dirty clothes hamper in Jacks room and his Grammys room.

In-between clothes:

  • These are the coats and sweaters gathered on a chair or two in the kitchen.
  • Also, the many used kitchen towels on the counter near the sink.
  • Oh, and some stray items on the patio chairs out back, hats, sweaters, blankets etc.

Clean Clothes:

  • The central collection of clean laundry consists of every piece of laundry I resent the most. I keep this pile hidden in my bedroom.
  • Then there are Jacks clean clothes which live in the laundry basket on top of his dresser.

All of these piles get dealt with eventually just never at the same time.

Clothes get washed daily, but I loathe the putting away of laundry.

It runs in my family; my parents had laundry piles. Three kids and a dirty laundry pile that covered the entire floor of the laundry room.

We used to chuck dirty clothes on the messy pile and wait for them to end up on the neat heap.

It’s a cycle of laziness indeed; I am not blind to the obvious. But I can hardly bring myself to care. It’s just so damn tedious washing, sorting, folding, hanging, all in their proper places. It’s a never-ending nightmare.

Why hasn’t a machine been invented to accompany a washer and dryer that eliminates the need to fold and hang clothes manually?
(Actually, I think one has been invented…)

The bottom line is I’d rather wash all the dishes because I fucking hate laundry.

And no, my husband takes no initiative in the laundry department ok. I recall my leaving the house for lunch with the girls once last year, and I got a phone call from him because he didn’t have a clean towel because all the towels were dirty. Part of me felt like a failure, the other part of me slapped the shit out of that part and told her to tell him to “WASH SOME FUCKING TOWELS THEN!”



I confess…

Since I’ve been working and going to school for over a year now, I have noticed myself feeling judgmental or resentful toward Jeremy as a stay at home dad. Not a lot, but on occasion, like, when the house is a wreck and Jack has done nothing but eat chips and rampage all day.

 In those moments when I judge my husband for not taking care of the laundry and dishes in addition to taking care of Jack, that I have to remember that I had days like that too. Days where I kept Jack alive and fortified with chips and crackers, and relatively entertained by a third party (YouTube and Netflix)  In fact, I still have days like that.

It’s important for me to remind myself now and again, that being a parent does not require perfection at all times. Some days spent at home with a small child, much like some days spent at work, are entirely shit house. At least I can clock out from work, but I won’t clock out from being a parent, and the same goes for Jeremy.

In other words, It’s okay if we drop the ball sometimes. Not every moment of Jack’s childhood is going to be sunshine and arts and crafts. I can not hold my husband to an unfair double standard as a stay at home dad. If it was ok for me to have a fuck all day, then it’s ok for Jeremy.

Our house may not look perfect and Instagram-worthy all of the time and the dishes in the dishwasher are not always going to be clean and if you come over to visit, you may crunch a cheerio under your foot while striding across our kitchen floor, because two year olds. 


To my husband, I love you and I appreciate you no matter how little or how much you accomplish in a day. (Although I have to admit, nothing turns me on quite like the sound of dishes being washed.)

And as for dad’s go, you’ve already got both of ours beat. You’re a wonderful husband and father and Jack and I both love you dearly, and unconditionally.

Thank you.