It's Not a Commercial

So lookie here,  Blogger is back up and running. Convenient as I am no longer my hormonally induced alter-ego.  Just plain old me again.  And plain old me is currently doing laundry.  It feels as though I've been doing laundry for two days straight.  Oh wait, that's because I have.

My husband is beating his high score on Solitaire on his Blackberry.

Well that's not fair, he did some yard work this weekend; made our patio presentable for company for our four year old's birthday party.  He washed our vehicles, he coaches ball four nights a week.  I am not ragging on him.  I am just bitter about the laundry.

I hate our laundry room.  Mine is not the one of Tide/Gain/Sunlight, etc. commercials. It is not all white and gleaming and filled with windows and sunshine and me in a pair of white slacks and a crisp button down shirt.  Mine is in the basement.  Concrete. Litter box.  Storage area. 

The litter box is really the piece de resistance (I would put accents on this but am not that technically advanced).  My cat refuses to pee in the litter box.  She prefers to perch in it or on the edge and shoot urine straight out onto the floor and surrounding area.  I've seen her do it.  She's nearly 10 and has been doing this for a few years now.  The area is sealed off with plastic to try and prevent the delicate stench of cat piss from permeating our the concrete floor.  There is a puppy pad to soak up some of the overspill.  It's not a litter box.  It's a litter 'area'.

So when I'm doing laundry, there are no gentle breezes floating in from the open window ruffling my perfectly coiffed hair.  There is me, often in sweats, sports bra and over sized t-shirt, trying not to breathe through my nose.  I change loads, 'Shout' the crap out of anything my seven year old wears and then once that is done, I get to scooping poop, disinfecting the litter area and putting out a fresh puppy pad.  There is no sunshine.  There is a hose running from the water heater to the drain in an effort to clean the sediment out of it so we can again have hot water for longer than 10 minutes at a time.

So I think it's clear why I hate laundry.  Never mind there are 76 fucking steps to getting it done.  Sorting, stain treatment, washing, hanging to dry, drying, folding and putting away.  And for what?  To do it all again, usually less than a full week later.  Sometimes I long for the sort of slovenly attitude that would let me revel in filth.  That wouldn't mind if my children went to school in dirty clothes with dirty fingernails and seven days worth of scum on their teeth.  It seems like it would be easier.  They could call me "Mama" and  we could learn our alphabets together.

Instead, I prefer they and I to be clean.  I don't like wrinkled clothes, dirty fingernails or scummy teeth.  I read.  They read.  And what do we have to show for it?  A cat that runs the laundry room with her unusual bathroom habits. 

Although, I do believe, after the last two days, one could bounce a quarter off of my hind quarters given we live in a two storey house, the laundry room is in the basement and all of the bedrooms, with the exception of one, are on the second floor.  I have done roughly 40 flights of stairs since yesterday at noon.  So yes, my legs and ass are in fine condition.  It's not doing anything for my "trouble area" though.  Still required to suck in if/when awake.  This might have something to do with rewarding myself with chocolate, salt water taffy, pretzels, etc for each completed load.

Don't judge me.  You do laundry for yourself, your husband, your two teenage children (which is really just the same as doing laundry for two more adults), and a seven year old who for the life of him cannot stay on his feet-the grass and dirt call to him-he must slide, first base or not, and a four year old (no explanation necessary).  You'd reward yourself too.  Maybe with one of those goddamned bubble baths the magazines get all worked up about, but that's not for me.  My eczema will flair up and I will then be forced to acknowledge my body in all it's naked glory and haven't I been through enough?

Time to go switch loads....

Day 2

In the spirit of Resolutions and such I'm here to report.  Obviously I'm so far sticking with the blogging resolution and I'm not doing horribly with the procrastination issue either.   I'm sorry, I need to digress here for a minute to talk about how much I dislike Queen Latifah.  I attempted to watch the People's Choice awards for about thirty seconds but gave up because she's too much.  She's not funny.  Neither are the Kardashians and why is that one so much taller and bigger than the other two?

Sidetracked. 

Anyway, I did get some laundry done but this is nothing...

Okay, twenty-five minutes later and I'm back.  Where did I go?  Well in the midst of promoting a successful productive life in the day of this modern-day do it all woman, I realized I forgot to pick my daughter up from rehearsal.

Oops.

To be fair it was only five after nine and I was supposed to be there at 9 and we only live about five minutes away.  Yes, I am defensive but also had a good laugh at myself.  She found it funny too.  Eventually.

Heh heh.

Okay, so anyway, I did some laundry.  My son's.  This is because he started cleaning his room the other day and this led to mass dumping of a clothing and other articles in the laundry room.  Clothing we thought was lost for good.  Clothing that likely hasn't fit him for at least two years.  Clean clothing.  As in still folded but because he failed to put it away properly so it eventually ended up on his floor and as such, he's decided to just put it back in the laundry.  Teenage boys are a special gift.

As are teenage girls but at least they are clean.

I got a solid five hours of work done today.  Not bad in between parenting the three year old, the 14 year olds orthodontist appointment, pick ups and drop offs of the six year old and the stupid laundry and making supper.  So I forgot to pick up a kid, big deal!  In all reality, something had to give.

I had to run out to pay a bill too and stopped at the store to buy some dishwasher detergent and picked up some discount Christmas candy too so part of my multitasking included mass consumption of grocery-store brand chocolates.  So basically I'm efficient and pretty...Pretty on the couch stuffing my face full of candy but too lazy/tired to get up off the couch and go get the drink of milk I was desperately craving.

So, all in all, not a bad day.  I'm a bit rambly and scattered I know but deal with it.  This is a much more positive post than the one I was/am contemplating about the capacity of humans, especially family members, to be such complete assholes to one another, but I'll save that for another day.  But seriously, how can some people be so desperately unaware and ignorant?

Ooops.  That was a little slip into Negative Nelly land.  So sorry.

Not.