September 10, 2019

Is this Motherhood?

I just smoked my funny bone on the door to my laundry room.

It literally took my breath away.

And had me wondering if someone was watching me, laughing, like The Truman Show.

I was cursing about the laundry. And apparently flailing my arms.

It just blows my mind how 5 people can have so much laundry.

Wet swimsuits, stinky towels, pee sheets, stained up t-shirts, gym clothes.

Clothes ranging from a 12 month onesie to an XL t-shirt.

Baseball uniforms and hockey jerseys.

Clothes piled on the floor of the laundry room. In laundry bins. Pretty much everywhere.

A clean basket of folded laundry from a week ago that now has dirty clothes piled on top of it.

It’s just amazing really.

I haven’t finished the laundry since my third baby was born. In October.

I was close once. I had one load left in the dryer.

I thought about celebrating once it was put away. I’m not joking.

I thought about putting something funny on Facebook about it.

But, I never finished. One of my kids wet the bed and as I stripped the bed I decided this was my life.

Laundry is a metaphor for my life.

Never catching up.

I was bent over the washer thinking about how this can’t be it.

I have to be on this earth to do more than laundry.

And fish socks out of leggings, turn shirts inside out, and feel around the inside of the dryer for Lego pieces.

I was trying to get a load of laundry done before work. And by before work, what I really mean is, before I frantically do 2 hours of work, and then run to my son’s school to volunteer in the lunch line.

And then run get my other son’s prescription, buy bigger diapers for the baby, in hopes that he doesn’t pee through and will maybe sleep better, and then to the post office to mail a few prizes.

Then hurry home to work some more before I bring Cooper to speech. I’m sorta dreading that part already.

Last week, he wasn’t having it. And he did a number on his therapist. It took a little bit of my soul I swear.

As I pulled the wet, clean laundry over to the dryer I thought for a brief second about running away. Like really running away.

And I thought about how I never do anything I want to do. Not ever.

Motherhood sorta paralyzes me sometimes. I feel like I am running in place, never stopping, but never getting anywhere either.

I want to read a book. And I want to sleep through the night. And I want to exercise. And I want to finally put together photo albums from the last 8 years.

I never do any of that.

And for another minute I let myself think about motherhood. And how no one told me how much work it really is.

And then I realized I was late.

But luckily, this damn laundry will be waiting for me to fold when I get home.