I love the laundry. I really really do. I'm not kidding, either. I love the laundry.
Well, wait. Let me clarify that.
I love to sort the laundry. I'm using the word love about sorting laundry, yes. But you know what I mean: sheets go with sheets, towels go with towels, lights, whites and darks, and so on. Sheets and pillow cases meet up and whisper all their bedroom secrets to the blankets. Not many people know that light colors are happiest when allowed to hang together and cheer each other up. They have that rose-colored glasses positivity about them that you just can't help be brightened by yourself. And darks? Dark clothes just want to be left alone to sit and brood in one big lumpy mish-mash, doing their best to look tortured, mysterious and aloof. Oh so very dark smoky French cafe.
I love to do the laundry, too. Mainly because I'm the only one in my house who does it right. Truly though, washing my perfectly sorted loads, hanging what needs to be hung and drying what goes in the dryer? It just speaks to my organization-loving heart. Dude, clothes don't want to be washed with towels. Towels leave all their working class terry-clothy lint all over the privileged fine knits that populate the upper crust of Laundry Room Society. And what fool decided it was okay to just undress into the washer and run it when it's full? Hellooooo?!! There are whites in there with dark jeans, man. Whites with jeans! Sweet fancy Moses, that's just crazy talk!
I also really dig on folding the laundry. Again, I'm the only one who does it right. And yes! There really IS a right way and a wrong way, don't argue with me. Who else knows how every little thing in this house needs to be folded besides the one who knows how it all needs to fit in drawers and cubbies? Moi, that's who. Jonah's shirts hang, Mary-Beth's dresses hang, towels and trousers folded in thirds, shirts folded department store style, knickers lay flat or fold, depending on size. *ahem* So yeah. I love to fold the laundry.
But today I was grumbling about laundry. Not laundry, really, but having to turn yet another of Ashley's flap-jacking shirts right-side-out. Seriously, people. There's no Right-Side-Out Fairy who comes along, waves her magic clothespin over the basket and the clothes just magically turn themselves to rights. No, the momma does that. And do you know why the momma does that? Because you don't!
So anyway, I'm grumbling to myself: "If I have to turn one more of these shirts back to rights I think I might just finally go to the zoo!" when suddenly, God decides I'm in need of a little calibration.
"Do everything without grumbling..." Philippians 2:14
W-what? Pardon? First of all, where did that even come from? I haven't read that verse in ages. On purpose. Grumbling seems to be getting me through my day just fine, thank you very much. Sure, there's plenty of weeping and gnashing of teeth around here when I put my foot down, but the children do it too!
"Do everything without grumbling..."
So, does that mean NO grumbling? Like, none? Really? Even if it's the billionth shirt I've turned right-side-out? Even if it's the 5,143,786th time I've had to ask a certain someone I'm married to where he put my favorite stockpot... AGAIN!? Because it's sure not where it belongs!
Even after the 43rd change of panties in one day? How about after I turn off the 90th light in a room with no! people! in it!? Huh? Huh?! Do You even know how frustrating that is? Certainly cause for grumbling if ever there was one.
No grumbling, huh? WHY???!!! I don't think You know these people I live with, Lord.
Oh. So you say Jesus didn't grumble when He went to the cross for me? Yeah. I remember that now.
(Thinking on it for a while...)
Okay, God. "Do everything without grumbling." I'll do my best. You're right. It probably would help my all-around attitude tremendously. If I'm purposely not grumbling, but deciding to thank You for these people I live with instead of grumbling about them? Yeah. It'd probably make a huge difference. I'll give it a try.
I'll, um, let you guys know how it goes.
"Her children will rise up and call her Keeper of the Cheerios." Does crust belong on the sandwich? What exactly are the physics of keeping the peas from touching the mashed potatoes? Is there a better toy-in-the-toilet fisher-outer? Let's find out together!
Monday, April 21, 2008
So, like, NO grumbling? Like, none? Really?
Labels:
Bible,
Grumpy Spice,
keeping home,
resentment,
selfish me,
tough job,
yelling
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Hooverheads.
I had to vacuum the kids' heads today.
Please. Don't ask.
Please. Don't ask.
Elinor Dashwood? Ummmm....
You are Elinor Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility! You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.
I saw this quiz at my friend Sarah's blog and since I love all things Austen I had to take it. Elinor Dashwood? I'm flattered, I must say. I loved Sense & Sensibility, and Elinor has always been one of my favorite Austen characters. But am I like her? I do have a knack for getting things done without much fuss, I'm practical, and I'm often the voice of reason in my family. But I have to admit it's not often that I allow my head to rule. Usually it's my mouth. Yes, Elinor Dashwood is much better at keeping her opinions to herself than I am.
Anyway, I thought you'd enjoy finding out which Austen character you more closely resemble. Thank you, Sarah!
I saw this quiz at my friend Sarah's blog and since I love all things Austen I had to take it. Elinor Dashwood? I'm flattered, I must say. I loved Sense & Sensibility, and Elinor has always been one of my favorite Austen characters. But am I like her? I do have a knack for getting things done without much fuss, I'm practical, and I'm often the voice of reason in my family. But I have to admit it's not often that I allow my head to rule. Usually it's my mouth. Yes, Elinor Dashwood is much better at keeping her opinions to herself than I am.
Anyway, I thought you'd enjoy finding out which Austen character you more closely resemble. Thank you, Sarah!
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