I recently wrote a post about how liberating it is to do laundry my way instead of my mom’s way. My mom was very specific about her laundry. Each family member’s laundry was done separately, darks were always separated from whites, and towels always separate from sheets which were never mixed with clothes. Even each color of towels was done separately. I started out doing our laundry this way, but pretty soon I realized I was doing about 15 small loads a week. So I started mixing colors of towels together. Then I started mixing the kids clothes with each other. And then the kids and ours. And now, laundry is pretty much a free for all. Whatever is closest to the washing machine when it is turned on is what gets washed in that cycle. And this was all working out well.
When I picked my daughter up from day care her teacher told me there was a “laundry surprise” for me in her lunchbox. My first thought (as a mom of a kid in diapers) was oh no – she pooped all over her pants. I asked if that was it and her teacher said no. My second thought was the tights I had put on under her jeans because it was so cold. Maybe they got in the way of diaper changes? No – that wasn’t it either.
What could it be?
A pair of MY underwear. My size XL, hair dye stained, Target-bought, faded, parachute (husband’s word) underwear. The static of Layla’s nap mat had held on to my underwear in the dryer on Sunday. Maybe doing separate laundry isn’t such a bad idea after all.
Hey, at least they were clean…..
The myth of gender-neutral parenting
1 week ago