Five Years Later, I Did the Laundry

My 5th blogiversary. What I did five years later at

I officially missed my fifth blogiversary.

Some bloggers host parties and giveaways to celebrate the anniversary of the day they started blogging, but I’m pretty sure that will never happen around here. I started blogging the day my second child went to kindergarten. That means the first day of school (or somewhere around there) always marks the milestone for me.

I can’t see myself ever getting a big celebration organized in the last few weeks of summer.

I didn’t have a party, but I did do the laundry.

Because the first day of school was a Monday, and Monday is Laundry Day.

Even though last week, Laundry Day didn’t happen until Wednesday (or maybe Thursday).

And that right there is the biggest change that has happened to me in the past five years of blogging my deslobification process.

Pre-blog, one of two things would happen (again and again):

1. I’d “conquer” laundry and then sit back to enjoy being finished. Two weeks later, my feelings were hurt and my brain was fuzzy because I couldn’t figure out why laundry was more out of control than ever.

2. I’d “manage” the laundry by throwing in a load whenever I remembered or we needed something. Do I really have to explain why this wasn’t a good method??

What’s different now?

Routine exists. Laundry has a day. Monday is that day. When Monday happens (as it does every single week), my brain (usually) remembers that it’s time to do laundry.

So when Monday happened, even though I didn’t have a full week’s worth of laundry to do, I knew that getting back on the ROUTINE was more important than any logical argument I could have had with myself about how it would make more sense to wait until later.

I did the laundry. It was less laundry than usual, but it’s now caught up. Now=Thursday.

Right. Monday was crazy because one of my kids broke his arm. But when I got back from visiting various doctors, laundry was already sorted and even though I was mentally and physically “done” for the day, it made sense to my brain to change over a load since I was in the middle of Laundry Day.

It also made sense to my brain to keep (over the next two days) doing loads until I was finished with the piles on the floor outside my laundry room.

And my brain likes knowing that I’m done. And that the piles growing bigger in bedrooms and bathrooms aren’t taunting me, they’re NEXT week’s laundry. Next week’s only-a-week’s-worth-of-laundry.  For this week, I’m done.

I like love being done.

And that’s what these past five years of my deslobification process have been all about: Finding ways to keep my house under control that make sense to my brain. That actually work. In my house. For my family.

Go me.


I linked to it up there, but I’ll link one more time here. If you are completely confused about my Laundry Day Logic, be assured that it was a long process for me to figure out what works for us. You can see the process here: My Laundry Metamorphosis.


But Where Will We Pile Our Clothes?

This is my loveseat today.

But Where Will We Pile Our Laundry at

This was my loveseat before last night.

Clean, Piled, Seating-Space-Stealing Laundry at

Now in my (lame) defense, that was not a current before picture. That was a day-after-Christmas before picture.

We had come home on the afternoon of Christmas Eve after spending two days with my family. We baked cookies (and more), opened our family gifts, awakened on Christmas morning to find what Santa brought, and left by 11 a.m. to spend Christmas Day and evening with the in-laws.

I’m pretty sure this picture was taken AFTER the two-hour nap we took when we got home.

The point of the picture is the laundry pile. And how it was there the day after Christmas and was still there last night. Last night, we finally had a lovely Family Folding Time and cleared it off.

Wait. Haven’t I shared/bragged about how I don’t make Clean Laundry Piles anymore? How my world has been rocked by the Put It Away Immediately Out of the Dryer method?

Well, yes. I have.

It’s just that my family hasn’t quite caught on to that life-changing concept yet.

And when things get crazy and Hubby offers to run a few loads of laundry so we’ll have non-stinky clothes to wear to Grandma’s house, I’m not going to complain that he doesn’t do things exactly how I do them.

I might have had to bite my tongue a little, but I didn’t complain.

I saved my self-righteous speech-giving for later.

At the furniture store.

See, I’ve been noticing lately how our family is growing. Not in numbers, but in size. I have one who will be a teenager in LESS than a year (yikes!) and another close behind that. Even with the loveseat generally sit-on-able, our lounge space doesn’t really fit the family. So I’ve decided I want to get two small recliners to replace the loveseat.

As we shopped over Christmas break, my daughter exclaimed in alarm . . . “But where will we put the clean laundry?” 

(Breathe from the diaphragm. This allows for long and passionate sentences.)

“Well. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed that we almost never have clean laundry on the loveseat anymore. I don’t put it there anymore. Nope. I fold it straight out of the dryer and put it away immediately.”

I was surprised they hadn’t noticed and they were surprised to hear of this thing they hadn’t noticed.



I extended the e-book sale through today, January 6th!


Rhyme AND Reason – Laundry Day

Is “without rhyme or reason” a Texas saying or an everywhere saying?


I would like to announce to the world that EVEN THOUGH I traveled an hour to a speaking engagement yesterday, shopped for uniform pants for the boy who woke up on our first cold morning having outgrown all warm clothing, and didn’t even have time to write a blog post . . . Laundry Day . . . . happened.

That’s right.

It’s Tuesday morning, and there is one measly load of white towels waiting to go into the washing machine.

Socks? Undies?

Uniform shirts and shorts and skirts?

They’re clean and in drawers or closets.

I’m not saying the clothes currently drying or waiting to dry are guaranteed to make it smoothly into their drawers (declaring what I’m “gonna” do rarely works well for me), but even if we lived out of the dryer and re-washed the jeans/dark-towels that are currently in the washing machine next Monday . . . no one would be naked for a whole ‘nother seven days of our existence.

I know.

I’m bragging unashamedly about things normal people take for granted. But it’s days like this when I see how important the concept of Laundry Day is for my brain.

There’s rhyme. Rhythm. A flow to things. I wash, fold, and put away clothes on Monday. All of them.

We wear clothes every single day (really) and by the next Monday I need to wash them again.

There’s reason. We like clean clothes. (Actually, my kids don’t care, but I pretend they will someday.) If I can get it all done on Monday(ish), I get to completely ignore my Laundry Room for the next six (or five) days.

I know. I’m blathering. And I didn’t even write a post yesterday so it’s kind of horrible to open the week like this.

But it’s true. I know for a fact that a week like this one (speaking on Monday, MIL-sitting on Wednesday, school fundraiser volunteering on Friday) would have once had us digging through the Donate Box for highwater pants that might button if we rigged them with a rubber band.

Instead, I begrudgingly matched socks and put school shirts on hangers in between school pick-up and dinner and Duck Dynasty.

It wasn’t fun, but it was Monday. And now, on Tuesday . . . I’m so glad.





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