Defeating the Laundry Monster
In the hopes that this will make me feel better, I am writing this to vent. A good friend of mine came out with the obvious the other day, which was "You are a writer. Maybe you could write about this. Who knows, it could make you feel better to get it out anyhow." Seriously, who would have thought that perhaps a person who likes to write would actually find writing therapeutic? It was so obvious I missed it.
Without further ado, here is my latest frustration, boiled down to one sentence. My house is a freaking mess! I could precursor this with all sorts of things, including how I have two kids that have ADHD tendencies, one of which has an actual diagnosis. In other words they are little to no help in the house cleaning department. I could explain that my two youngest actually make messes worse, one by being a typical two year old, the other by being a four year old with autism. I could explain that my oldest daughter is now a teenager and sees no reason why she should do so much work, and often times refuses to help pick up the slack that her siblings leave in the chore department. I could go on to rant about my husband with sleep apnea who is always tired and does his best which isn't always what I think is needed. Yes, I could blame all these things, but they are just day to day life for me. They contribute to the problem, ever worsening it. They are NOT the cause.
As I stand looking around in most every room of this tiny place, I see clothes everywhere. These are not just clothes. I could deal with clothes. Too many clothes is a blessing. It means my children do not need to go about naked and cold. No, these clothes have another quality to them, another title that gives them life, causes them to grow and threaten my peace. That word is "laundry." Yes, that's right, they need to be washed, dried, folded and put away. In other words, they're not just a mess, they're work. I walk through my house and enter almost any room and I have work staring me in the face. Time consuming mountains loom around every corner, overwhelming me with their size and reminding me that perhaps, just maybe, things are getting out of control.
At the moment it isn't getting any better either. As people enter the house and drop book bags or coats, as the little ones play and sprinkle their toys here and there, as dishes get set next to the chair where someone was eating in front of the tv, the mess is added to. These things aren't laundry, but they are work. They involve time and effort for me, an already stressed and tired woman. I look at them and realize that leaving them there will only make things more out of control. However, picking them all up wouldn't make the house look more in control. Nothing will seem that way until the Laundry monster is finally killed.
How did things get this way? It all started with a soggy floor. There has been water on the kitchen floor before. The water is so common in fact, that it didn't raise a red flag. My eleven year old cannot do the dishes without getting copious amounts of water everywhere. I assume most people would be upset by this, but I am just grateful to have one less thing to do. Much easier to throw a towel on the floor if it means someone else is going to get all the dishes done. I happily ignore the daily water, until the day when it starts oozing up from the floor. Water is supposed to get the floor wet from the top down, not the other way around.
I rent, so I am doubly concerned. They will come and fix it just fine assuming it isn't anything we did to cause the problem and it isn't. But I fear that if I don't tell them right away and there is damage, then there could be an issue. So I do the right thing and give them a call. This begins the cycle, as someone comes out to examine where the water is coming from and confirms that indeed, it must be the washing machine, which is wedged back into the wall. Infact it is wedged so far back in there that it cannot be easily pulled forward. He tells me that he cannot fix washers anyhow, and the land lord will call someone to come out and fix it, but in the meantime don't use the washer. I sigh, and thank God that I just got all the laundry done. It'll be fixed tomorrow, no harm done.
The next day, the company sends a man out to fix my washer. The problem is that nobody communicated to the company the fact that it won't be easy to pull the thing out. The guy comes and can't get access to the washer. He does NOT want to take off the baseboards and other things needed to squeeze the washer out of its place. I can't blame him as I don't want to do it either. I don't own this place, and he just fixes washers. It is neither of our jobs to be taking apart the wood work and unscrewing the peg board from the wall. Washer doesn't really get fixed that day, but we are able to get the land lord to come out and dismantle the things needed. This increases the drama since I still can't use the washer and now it is in the middle of the kitchen floor. An added bonus is the fact that whoever installed this stuff didn't leave enough room. Instead of installing smaller cabinets, they just took the wall off the cabinet. Without the washer in place, there is a gaping hole of shelves where a cabinet wall should be. things in there fall off and behind the washer. Lovely, just what I wanted.
It has now been several days of this mess and still no washer fixed. I fail to see why I should have to go through the effort to go to the laundromat when the washer works just fine. Well, fine excepting the water leaking everywhere. I resist temptation to use the washer anyhow as I don't want to be responsible for continued water damage. Laundry begins to pile up, and this happens quickly when there are seven people worth of laundry every day.
The next day I call and ask why the washer isn't fixed. Person who answered the phone didn't know and had to call back. When she did, she told me the repair company would be giving me a call, which they did. I was told someone would be out that evening. Great! Not spending money on the laundromat paid off. Washer will be fixed. I mentally do a happy dance and go on about my day. Until the repair guys get there. They came much later in the day than I expected, looked at the washer and told me it needed a hose. The existing hose is very old and leaking everywhere. As I was trying to get over the shock of hearing that water leaked everywhere when I ran the washer (yesh that was sarcasm in its richest most raw form), I looked at them expectantly. "and..."
"we will need to get a new hose. We'll be back tomorrow. They'll call first and verify a time that is good for you."
REALLY?? SERIOUSLY?! But I didn't say anything. Maybe it was too much of me to expect them to know exactly what was wrong with the washer and have the exact parts needed to fix the damn thing. Maybe it is too much to think that the more common washer parts might be in the repair guy's vehicle somewhere. Maybe I should let them charge the hell out of the landlord for multiple visits as it is none of my business. Maybe I should have taken time out of my busy schedule, pulled apart the wall, slid out the washer/dryer unit (they're not only stacked, but connected into one) with my bad back and changed my own damn hose. Maybe I should have screamed to the heavens all my frustrations. But whatever the case, it is locked inside me. I give a meek and polite "ok" and send them on their way.
Another day of laundry pile up. The Laundry Monster is out in full force and I cannot seem to block or parry. It is now a week from the original complaint of the washer. It is also a Friday. I have many appointments and am not home. My hubby is though, and all is well, or so I think. Things go awry when he takes a shower and fails to answer the phone. He ignores the whole thing as the caller ID has an unfamiliar number in it and nobody left a voicemail. Oh WHY didn't they leave a voicemail?? Yes, it was the washer people, calling to see when they could come and replace the hose. By the time I got home and put two and two together, it was too late to call them back and now the weekend has put MORE days in the gap with no working washer.
So here I sit, chaos everywhere I look. My house is a freaking cluttered mess, and anyone who knows me will attest to how bad things have to get before a mess bothers me. I am trying not to get overwhelmed and it is taking up most if not all of my mental energy. Ten days, seven people, zero clean clothes. My battle with the laundry monster rages on. I may win this battle one day, but I've certainly lost the round. Laundry Monster 1. Frazzled Mom 0.
Without further ado, here is my latest frustration, boiled down to one sentence. My house is a freaking mess! I could precursor this with all sorts of things, including how I have two kids that have ADHD tendencies, one of which has an actual diagnosis. In other words they are little to no help in the house cleaning department. I could explain that my two youngest actually make messes worse, one by being a typical two year old, the other by being a four year old with autism. I could explain that my oldest daughter is now a teenager and sees no reason why she should do so much work, and often times refuses to help pick up the slack that her siblings leave in the chore department. I could go on to rant about my husband with sleep apnea who is always tired and does his best which isn't always what I think is needed. Yes, I could blame all these things, but they are just day to day life for me. They contribute to the problem, ever worsening it. They are NOT the cause.
As I stand looking around in most every room of this tiny place, I see clothes everywhere. These are not just clothes. I could deal with clothes. Too many clothes is a blessing. It means my children do not need to go about naked and cold. No, these clothes have another quality to them, another title that gives them life, causes them to grow and threaten my peace. That word is "laundry." Yes, that's right, they need to be washed, dried, folded and put away. In other words, they're not just a mess, they're work. I walk through my house and enter almost any room and I have work staring me in the face. Time consuming mountains loom around every corner, overwhelming me with their size and reminding me that perhaps, just maybe, things are getting out of control.
At the moment it isn't getting any better either. As people enter the house and drop book bags or coats, as the little ones play and sprinkle their toys here and there, as dishes get set next to the chair where someone was eating in front of the tv, the mess is added to. These things aren't laundry, but they are work. They involve time and effort for me, an already stressed and tired woman. I look at them and realize that leaving them there will only make things more out of control. However, picking them all up wouldn't make the house look more in control. Nothing will seem that way until the Laundry monster is finally killed.
How did things get this way? It all started with a soggy floor. There has been water on the kitchen floor before. The water is so common in fact, that it didn't raise a red flag. My eleven year old cannot do the dishes without getting copious amounts of water everywhere. I assume most people would be upset by this, but I am just grateful to have one less thing to do. Much easier to throw a towel on the floor if it means someone else is going to get all the dishes done. I happily ignore the daily water, until the day when it starts oozing up from the floor. Water is supposed to get the floor wet from the top down, not the other way around.
I rent, so I am doubly concerned. They will come and fix it just fine assuming it isn't anything we did to cause the problem and it isn't. But I fear that if I don't tell them right away and there is damage, then there could be an issue. So I do the right thing and give them a call. This begins the cycle, as someone comes out to examine where the water is coming from and confirms that indeed, it must be the washing machine, which is wedged back into the wall. Infact it is wedged so far back in there that it cannot be easily pulled forward. He tells me that he cannot fix washers anyhow, and the land lord will call someone to come out and fix it, but in the meantime don't use the washer. I sigh, and thank God that I just got all the laundry done. It'll be fixed tomorrow, no harm done.
The next day, the company sends a man out to fix my washer. The problem is that nobody communicated to the company the fact that it won't be easy to pull the thing out. The guy comes and can't get access to the washer. He does NOT want to take off the baseboards and other things needed to squeeze the washer out of its place. I can't blame him as I don't want to do it either. I don't own this place, and he just fixes washers. It is neither of our jobs to be taking apart the wood work and unscrewing the peg board from the wall. Washer doesn't really get fixed that day, but we are able to get the land lord to come out and dismantle the things needed. This increases the drama since I still can't use the washer and now it is in the middle of the kitchen floor. An added bonus is the fact that whoever installed this stuff didn't leave enough room. Instead of installing smaller cabinets, they just took the wall off the cabinet. Without the washer in place, there is a gaping hole of shelves where a cabinet wall should be. things in there fall off and behind the washer. Lovely, just what I wanted.
It has now been several days of this mess and still no washer fixed. I fail to see why I should have to go through the effort to go to the laundromat when the washer works just fine. Well, fine excepting the water leaking everywhere. I resist temptation to use the washer anyhow as I don't want to be responsible for continued water damage. Laundry begins to pile up, and this happens quickly when there are seven people worth of laundry every day.
The next day I call and ask why the washer isn't fixed. Person who answered the phone didn't know and had to call back. When she did, she told me the repair company would be giving me a call, which they did. I was told someone would be out that evening. Great! Not spending money on the laundromat paid off. Washer will be fixed. I mentally do a happy dance and go on about my day. Until the repair guys get there. They came much later in the day than I expected, looked at the washer and told me it needed a hose. The existing hose is very old and leaking everywhere. As I was trying to get over the shock of hearing that water leaked everywhere when I ran the washer (yesh that was sarcasm in its richest most raw form), I looked at them expectantly. "and..."
"we will need to get a new hose. We'll be back tomorrow. They'll call first and verify a time that is good for you."
REALLY?? SERIOUSLY?! But I didn't say anything. Maybe it was too much of me to expect them to know exactly what was wrong with the washer and have the exact parts needed to fix the damn thing. Maybe it is too much to think that the more common washer parts might be in the repair guy's vehicle somewhere. Maybe I should let them charge the hell out of the landlord for multiple visits as it is none of my business. Maybe I should have taken time out of my busy schedule, pulled apart the wall, slid out the washer/dryer unit (they're not only stacked, but connected into one) with my bad back and changed my own damn hose. Maybe I should have screamed to the heavens all my frustrations. But whatever the case, it is locked inside me. I give a meek and polite "ok" and send them on their way.
Another day of laundry pile up. The Laundry Monster is out in full force and I cannot seem to block or parry. It is now a week from the original complaint of the washer. It is also a Friday. I have many appointments and am not home. My hubby is though, and all is well, or so I think. Things go awry when he takes a shower and fails to answer the phone. He ignores the whole thing as the caller ID has an unfamiliar number in it and nobody left a voicemail. Oh WHY didn't they leave a voicemail?? Yes, it was the washer people, calling to see when they could come and replace the hose. By the time I got home and put two and two together, it was too late to call them back and now the weekend has put MORE days in the gap with no working washer.
So here I sit, chaos everywhere I look. My house is a freaking cluttered mess, and anyone who knows me will attest to how bad things have to get before a mess bothers me. I am trying not to get overwhelmed and it is taking up most if not all of my mental energy. Ten days, seven people, zero clean clothes. My battle with the laundry monster rages on. I may win this battle one day, but I've certainly lost the round. Laundry Monster 1. Frazzled Mom 0.