It costs our family ten dollars to do laundry each week, not including detergents, fabric softeners, effort, or any unforeseen catastrophes that warrant an emergency load (potty accident anyone?) Nor does it include folding, hanging, or putting away of said laundry. As my very quotable sister-in-law once said, "laundry is a thankless job." I knew I would miss having my own washer and dryer, but it is happening sooner than I planned. My advice to anyone pondering to embark on the journey we are on: begin said journey in the spring or summertime. Because inevitably things will go wrong immediately and most of these occurrences require outdoor work, and the winter is not the time to be outside learning to fix the sewage line or remove a tire. Or, as it were, to lug full laundry baskets with children in tow up a hill to the laundromat and back down again. I am still set firm in my belief that any number under forty should not be allowed to be called a temperature.
The four-year-old wandered into my room last night around one am and told me his head hurt and he had to go potty. So I got job one squared away, felt his head, and immediately groaned. His dad had indeed shared whatever fevery-coughy-shivery-sickness he had with his son. I medicated said child, tucked him into "mommy's bed" and stood my post to sleep little and make sure he got some rest. The difficult part of this scenario is not that the child is sick, nor is it the lack of good rest, it is trying to keep the three year old away from the sick four year old so that he does not contract whatever wonderful little holiday yuck his brother has partaken of. When you have less than 40 feet of distance/length to work with, there aren't a whole lot of places to run to when escaping germs- no matter how often you wash and sanitize. If I gaze deep into my crystal ball I can foresee a sick three year old mid-week of Christmas to occur either simultaneously with mommy contracting said illness or that mommy's will occur on the tail end of everyone. It's a gift.
On a happier note, we finished 90% of Christmas shopping this fine day. TJ winced as we went store to store and he was the financier of this operation, followed by a groan of "you know this is killing me." See, he missed out last year because of his Afghan deployment and I do believe the Grinch (as we call him this time of year) would rather have been in the dirt playing war than here "celebrating." Just a thought. And now, it's that great time to trek up the hill and finish up the laundering. Clothes, not money, that is.....
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