Recently I found myself going a little crazy with house work. It seemed I had no free time for anything else. I was constantly cleaning or organizing or washing something and at the same time nothing was getting better in my house.
I approached my mom bewildered and out of sorts one day and explained my frustrations to her over a cup of tea and about 5 brownies.
She suggested that I make a schedule and stick to it. Pick one day of the week for a certain task and leave it to that day every week. Let me just say that it has helped considerably and I find that I have 10 times the amount of free time. Yes…my pile of laundry might get really high but at least I only have to do it on Monday.
So Monday is my laundry day and I am loving it. Despite the rain I find that I am inspired as newly clean laundry hangs just a little damp in my window and the dryer tumbles, it’s white noise keeping Clare asleep a little longer.
Today I remember when Clare was first born and how much she loved having towels and blankets and socks piled around her. I think about my nephew who will soon be born and wrapped snugly in receiving blankets only to poop on them. How much newborn laundry his mom will have to do….how she won’t mind at all because it means he is here.
Today I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Maybe it’s the extra vitamin D I received from spending most of the weekend outside. Maybe it’s that I baked a batch of cookies without eating most of the batter. Maybe it’s that I caught myself before ruining the recipe this time. Maybe it’s that the floor is dirty but I don’t have to clean it until Thursday.
Today I stand and stare at the forsythia that I cut from my garden – the first fruits. I stand and sip my coffee and wonder how nice it must be to be a flower in the Spring… that is unless you’re a flower with a terrible pollen allergy.
I think laundry Monday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week…although…I’m not sure how anything can compare with napping Sunday.