I am incapable of staying on top of the laundry.
Yesterday, I told my dad that when he came over to watch the kids and had to step over a pile of dirty clothes and several piles of clean, folded clothes on the laundry room/pantry floor to access the juice boxes.
"I'm just not capable of keeping up with it, so I'm just going to do the best I can and if everyone has enough clothes to wear at any given time, then I'm doing fine, right?"
He sort of laughed and we talked about something else for a while and then I went to work. To my gloriously clean office where the pens stay in the drawer day after day and people wear one outfit per day.
But this morning, when I was back at home, where all four people wear more than one outfit per day, and some of us, three or four depending on how quickly I can strip them when they run out the back door. And where some of us manage to do disgusting things to their beds that necessitate near daily linen changes on a frustratingly regular basis (Thanks for NOTHING Target Pull Ups, you assholes). And despite doing what feels like ten loads of laundry every day, I couldn't find one measly pair of socks for myself. Anywhere.
And then Ryan was treated to a very becoming tantrum that rivaled the one Wes was having about not getting more milk after feeding his to Rossby. There were lots of whispered swear words. Classy.
On the way to take Charlie to school I ran into Labmama and we commiserated about the laundry situation. She is familiar, but I get the sense, since I've never once impaled myself after tripping over a pile of size four underpants at her house, that she is doing a better job than me.
So when I got home I sucked it up and folded everything I could find and started two new loads (one that was full of Charlie's bedding. forehead vein, throbbing). Then I made some snickerdoodles and mopped the kitchen floor.
So it is better, mostly because of the snickerdoodles, but I still have to put everything away and I still have no socks. And I haven't done the adult laundry, yet. And the only time I can put away clothes is when kids are sleeping which means during Wes's naptime I can put Charlie's away, but Wes's usually live in a laundry basket in the hall outside his door. Facepalm of exasperation.
Someone tell me the secret, please!