Laundry

I walk into our bathroom and clothes spill out of the hamper into the floor, even though I just washed clothes 3 days ago. Different smells waft from the basket; sulfer and sweat from Dillon's hard days at work, grass and fruit punch from Luke's shirts and pants and formula spit up on the baby's burp cloths and pajamas. I load up the clothes in the basket, and try to balance them on my way to the basement where our washing machine is housed. I wash the baby's clothes first. Soft blankets, small socks and zip up sleepers. I wash hers separately to keep the dirt from our clothes off of hers. After an hour in the wash, my washing machine sings a song letting me know that they are done. It's ready to start again.

I load her soggy clothes into the dryer. Socks fly, tiny pink flowered shirt wrinkled and wet. I then load our clothes. Mud stained pants and sandy socks from Luke are shoved in. I don't usually bother to separate whites and colors, most of our clothes are dark so it all goes in together. It's an all day process up and down the stairs. Back and forth putting clothes from one area to another.

They come out of the dryer warm and comforting and they smell fresh. I carry the full basket back up the stairs and dump the clean clothes onto our bed. Luke likes to come in and jump in the clothes throwing them over his lap and head and hiding in their warmth. I scold him because he keeps undoing the folding I've already done. I sigh and fold the pants again; fold in half and then half again, placing them in the appropriate pile. We each own several piles; pajamas, pants, shirts, dresses for Charlie and me, socks (ugh, socks). Then there's the ritual of putting it away. Hanging clothes, putting them in the appropriate drawers. I've started laundry at 8:00 AM and by 7:00 PM it's put away.

I used to laugh at mine and Dillon's mom because when we were in college, they both always did our laundry when we were home on the weekends even when we lived in apartments that had their own washers and dryers. My mom would tell me to just bring my laundry home and she would do it for me. I always wondered why they wanted to do our laundry. Wouldn't it just be easier for us to do it on our own? But I understand now. There's something comforting to cleaning your children's clothing. To give them something nice to wear, to help them. You watch their clothes progress from teeny tiny onesies, to sweat pants with the knees worn out to tee shirts with their favorite bands.

I've seen several people on Facebook who are expecting babies say that baby laundry is one type of laundry they don't mind doing. I don't think that fades with time. Us mamas, we'll always want to wash our babies' clothes, it won't matter their age.

A pile of laundry after we had Luke. Add in another little human and it's even more.