The Laundster

In our house, due to my boys' fascination with all things "bad" (i.e. Scary this, bad that, not-a-good-show), we speak a different vernacular. I'm not saying my way is right or wrong, I'm just saying it's different. We don't say:

-stupid
-dumb
-butt
-monster
The. list. goes. on....

Mark and I's reasoning for this, is not because we want to push submission down their throats, it's that we don't want them speaking death. See, when we say something is stupid, when is that ever in a positive light? I want their little warrior hearts to still have the sensitivity to words they should, or shouldn't, say. The world will teach them things I don't want them to learn. It's my job to train them in the right direction, so they don't cuss, end up in jail, or be the abuser in a relationship. I teach them that if they punch now, they'll punch later. If they scream now, they'll scream later, and so on. 

So! Small soapbox moment, to lead to this: 

We don't say monster...

So I'd never say this word around my kiddos. But there is something that makes me want to curl up in the fetal position, in a corner, and cry 'til it's gone. 

It's called: The Laundster. Here's what it looks like:

I do not like laundry. With 6 of us (including 3 active, messy boys), laundry is CONSTANT. Like the sound of an annoying cricket outside your window at 3 in the morning, it NEVER LEAVES.

And since I can't burn it, and start over (though I can ASSURE you, I've contemplated this multiple times), I had to get proactive. 

Enter: Timer. 

My kiddos are active. Doing laundry when they sleep rarely happens, because I sit, and eat, or go to the bathroom, or do something else that I haven't done for hours.

So, I had an idea. 

I don't like using the T.V. as a babysitter. In fact, we rarely watch it, unless at my parents house. BUT! A show that they love lasts 30 minutes! 

So, as a naturally competitive person, I compete with those 30 minutes!

"I bet you can't get this load of laundry done, before Daniel Tiger sings his Goodbye song!"

And then it's on!

Race against a cartoon tiger, to defeat the Laundster, and make my OCD heart beat a little happier beat!

My prayer, dear Momma's is that you wouldn't be defeated by the Laundster. I battle this WEEKLY! I have yet to be consistent in defeating it, but I try. And that's all God asks us to do. 

I used to pile clean clothes in a sculpture resembling the Himalayas, ALL OVER my HUGE sectional couch. I'd sit on the clothes, cry when I finally started to chisel away at them, and tell my husband it's TOO HARD. 

Then, I started purging. I got the kiddos down to a handful of outfits a piece. I purged that skirt that I LOVED because it was $2 at Goodwill, but never wore. I purged all the jeans from my hubby's glory days, that were holy, and I don't mean spiritual. 


Suddenly, my load piles went from 7, to 3. Still a lot, and trust me, they're a HEFTY 3 (shout out to industrial washers and dryers), but I could start to breathe...


So hang in there, women of this world! We are too mighty, and too favored to be defeated by The Laundster. Because The Laundster starts those inner voices screaming:

"You're failing at this ."
"Your husband is going to be disappointed."
"Good grief, you can't even provide clean underwear for your family???"

And you know what? Those are words of death.

They're not allowed in my heart, and they're not allowed in yours. 

"You are an incredible woman."
"Your husband and children are blessed, to call you their's."
"You. Are. Enough."

This laundry escapade has been a battle of mine for 6 years. When all else failed, I started praying. I begged God to give me strength. I prayed He would train me to speak life, even when I felt like I was drowning.



...and He did...



You, who are reading this:

YOU. are. enough.









Now, if you'll excuse me, my three year old missed the toilet, and my 2 year old decided to "help", and pick up the brown pieces. 

Mom life. 

Wouldn't have it any other way!