Tag Archives: laundry

Getting down and dirty

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Not that long ago, I read a housekeeping blog on how to clean your front-load washer and dryer. What do you mean? The forced and mandatory clean cycle is not enough? Say it ain’t so, Joe! It always seems that pesky reminder message appears when I am dealing with Mt. St. Laundry and (No! Thank you very much!) I do not wish to run the clean cycle right at this moment. Thankfully, there is a by-pass mode which allows me to complete five more loads before having to run the cycle to clean the washer itself.

washer

I would be lying to you if I said I had never encountered problems with my front loader before. My last set developed a distinct (Oh, shall we say used sweat sock) odor that no matter how many cycles of bleach, vinegar, or various washer-manufacturer cleaning supplies could not eradicate. A quick cursory look on the internet told me what I didn’t want to learn – mold! We had a serious mold issue in our tub which turns out is a known proclivity of front loading washers. When you have a child that is off the charts allergic to mold, this knowledge that her clothes could lead to anaphylactic shock was defeating at best. Short of replacing the tub, a costly expenditure to say the least, there was little we could do to remedy the situation.

We spoke to a technician who gave us some ideas of old fashioned remedies that helped for a while, before it became obvious we would have to replace the washer. When we bought the new set (another front loader) I did a ton of reading on how to prevent the mold build-up from happening again. Most information centered on not using commercial fabric softeners and using specific detergents for front loaders. All the forums highly recommended (as in Do not pass go and do not collect $200) never skipping the clean cycle on your front loader. Yeah, well tell that to my children who generate Mt. St. Laundry in the first place, and then need a specific shirt or uniform by dawn’s light. Where are the cleaning fairies when I need them?

After doing a little further research, I learned that just running the clean washer cycle was probably not enough and some other periodic cleaning would need to be done manually or should I say “womanually”. Hope springs eternal, and to be honest, I want to take care of the items God has chosen to bless my family. Not that many years ago, my husband washed his clothes in a bucket in the middle of a desert, when fighting for our country. A washing machine is a luxury globally, and even though the irritating reminder comes on at the least opportune time, I do want to take the best care I can of the old gal (Okay, really she is only a couple years old. I don’t want to offend her).

The process involves creating a mixture of half water and half vinegar. For the chemists among us, that would be a 1:1 ratio. Grabbing some paper towels and Q-tips is also very handy. Using the mixture you wipe down the interior tub and every available surface on and inside the washer. Then comes the part of cleaning inside the rubber seals on the tub and the tiny holes where water filters out. At first, cleaning the large areas just felt good and productive, but by the time I got to pulling back the rubber seals and digging into those tiny holes thoughts of “Well, I am sure glad I got a degree in advanced chemistry for this job” were at the forefront of my thoughts. Let me tell you people what came out on those cotton swabs was beyond disgusting. I liken it to what the cleaning lady saw after the birth of Reed when the doctors and nurses and my husband and my new baby left me lying there on the table because two of us mommas shared the same doctor in our small town hospital.   I had the luck of delivering two minutes before the other gal. Rather than finish piecing me back together, there I lay waiting for almost an hour. The poor cleaning lady thought the room was empty and just came right on in to the shock of her life. Needless to say the gunk that came out of my washing machine was equally as shocking!

I do not advise cleaning your washer with clothes inside it. But it is a snow day in Minnesota and we are getting lots done around here! These are the offensive holes.

I do not advise cleaning your washer with clothes inside it. But it is a snow day in Minnesota and we are getting lots done around here! These are the offensive holes.

The longer I worked the more my efforts resulted in more hidden disgusting gunk being revealed. My thoughts were not pleasant and a whole lot of grumbling was going on. Then I was reminded of the time my lamenting about cleaning kids, dishes, and laundry resulted in my Mama saying, “Well, bless your heart. Isn’t it terrible you have all those things to clean?” Pretty convicting words!

Sitting on my laundry room floor surrounded by more yuck than I knew was imaginable; I began to examine my heart. How many times do I harbor the gunk of life and bring that with me to the throne room of God? More often than I want to admit. I want to bring my requests and my concerns – a laundry list, if you will – without cleaning out the yucky stuff first. It was a humbling lesson. A reminder from God what place I sometimes reserve for him in my busy day. Definitely not something I would boast about. Thankfully though, my God specializes in messy people. He loves us even we forget to clean out the dirt and have it hidden in all kinds of places. Instead of grumbling like me about misplaced opportunities, God has the crimson blood of his son which scrubs every heart clean and fresh as snow.

Even though that was seriously one of the dirtiest jobs I have ever done, today I am so incredibly thankful for endless grace for messy hearts and a washing machine that still gets the job done!

The fitted sheet dilemma

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This summer, our lives have settled into a different routine than we had been dreaming about during our hygge moments of the long winter. One of the by-products of having an athlete injured is all your have-to’s and want-to’s were changed in an instant. Instead, our summer has turned into a pretty freeing one (although wrapped around doctor appointments and therapy) where each new day holds its own adventure. We wake up and decide what new and fun thing we are going to accomplish today. I just wish our carefree days were completely free of cares. But as I have alluded to before, we tackle Mt. St. Laundry each week.

Thankfully, though another by-product of being limited in choices of activities has been my children deciding there are certain chores that they prefer over others. As long as we aren’t looking like a pigsty, I don’t mind who does a job as long as the job gets done.

My knee brace-wearing girl has decided laundry is her thing. She has developed a Zen-like attitude about the whole process. She enjoys the washing and drying, but she has proven to be a true All-Star when it comes to folding. At times, she has even recruited her siblings in supporting roles, especially when needing to return folded items to their proper location. She has also learned about the thorn in my side when it comes to folding laundry. Our ninety-seven pound golden retriever thinks he is four-legged iron, laying on top of any item and pressing it flat with all his furry-ness.

At times, my basement family room appears to be a Gap store (more on that in a moment) with stacks of items arranged for a quick sale. I really should consider this a proud moment; however, more than once, I have encountered this scene in my travels up and down the basement steps.

fitted sheet

Notice the beautifully folded and stacked clothes and towels. Did you also notice the wadded up pile of bed sheets. I decided to use this as a teachable moment. What follows next is the true conversation:

Me: Do you see anything wrong with this picture? (Imagine me doing my best Vanna White interpretation gesticulating my hands over the room.)

Oldest Daughter: Not really.

Me: How many times have I shown you all how to fold sheets?

OD: Not enough, I guess.

Me: It really isn’t that hard. Let me show you.

OD: (With as much enthusiasm as if I asked her to trim my toenails) Okay. But for the record, it only bothers you.

Me: I don’t think I am going to enjoy going to your houses in the future. All your sheets will be wadded up messes.

Oldest Daughter: Well, we don’t plan on washing our sheets like you.

Me: Whatever do you mean?

OD: We will wash the sheets. Dry the sheets. And then replace the sheet sets right back on the bed; thus eliminating the need to fold them.

Me: But you have flannel and cotton sets now. How do you plan on dealing with that?

OD: Maybe our spouses will know how to fold fitted sheets or maybe you can just bring your own set when you come to visit.

Argh! I have one leaving for college a year from now, and I am probably going to have to add lack of ability to fold fitted sheets to my letter of apology to the college roommates. I have tried. I have really tried. I use the fist method of folding fitted sheets, as in each fist in a corner . Then fist over fist until the whole works is folded into a quarter of the original size. A little smoothing out, a final couple folds, and Voila! You have a nice bundle that matches your flat sheet; both of which are placed inside the pillowcase for organized (read: not a crumpled mess) storage.

How can I reframe this utter disinterest for finely folded bed linens? My solution to this perplexing dilemma is to have a tutorial. If you think I am kidding, talk to my kids. The summer before their 7th, 5th, and 3rd grade years, the big kids watched the how to “fold a t-shirt Gap style video” one afternoon, per their mother’s insistence. Then we practiced folding shirts like it was some necessary skill needed to return to school. That little tidbit came in handy in a folding contest against a football coach at a camp. Wasn’t such a big waste of time after all, was it?

So who could I turn to for assistance in my disheveled dilemma? The guru of all fine homemaking skills herself has a delightfully entertaining video on this very issue. But seriously, even I struggled with that tutorial.

This one is much more my speed. Not nearly as funny as the first one, I think we can follow Jill’s instructions in the second one. Although, I almost sprayed iced tea on the screen, the moment I saw the crumpled mess example. She gets me. . . she really gets me.

Guess we know what we will be working as we start collecting school supplies over the next few weeks. Because, I really do not want to wave the white flag sheet too soon. I still have hope that these young pupils are moldable and impressionable.

Of course, we will probably end up in as much giggles as the audience of the first video because you can never take yourself too seriously.

In all honesty, who do I think I’m kidding?  I cried the day Reed finished 6th grade because I wasn’t ready for him to grow up.  How small that worry seems today.  So even if their sheets aren’t folded, I will still visit their future homes someday, just to be with them . . . wishing for the days when we previously used the sheets to build forts instead.

Hug your kids every day and let the laundry worry about itself!

 

Newfangled Laundry Woes!

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Growing up, my brother and I once played a colossal game of Clue. By colossal, I mean our characters spent about five hours trying to figure out where poor Mr. Boddy had been done in. With 6 suspects, 6 weapons, and 9 rooms, there are 324 possible outcomes. (Have I ever mentioned I love math?)  I am certain we tried almost all of them. We were sure of the perpetrator and the weapon, but we spent hours trying to determine where in the cat hair this murder took place. Complete and utter aggravation! Eventually, frustration overtook us or perhaps it was our early bedtime. We looked into the mysterious envelope to discover the error in our logic.

It was Miss Scarlet with the knife in Colonel Mustard. He might have been a big man, but I think he would have taken umbrage with his comparison to being as big as a room. Honestly, I don’t blame him.

It was our original card choosing and not our logic at fault. Whew! We laughed for days. Looking back now, our parents should have been proud of raising persistent children.

I recently ran into another one of those moments of frustration. Since I love to cook from scratch, I create stacks of dishes. Since none of my workers, children, are particularly persuaded by mine or Madge’s promise of extremely soft hands, I am (alas!) the cheese. You know the cheese stands alone washing all the dishes and cookware which appear to multiply when we leave the room.  I envision Lumiere (of Beauty and the Beast) lighting up a rousing rendition of “Be Our Guest”, inviting all pots and pans to a luxurious hot tub soak.

Warning: Not a staged photo. These are the real dishes that accumulated between lunch and supper today.

Warning: Not a staged photo. These are the real dishes that accumulated between lunch and supper today.

When I am doing the dishes sans help, I have a system that works for me, but not necessarily for my small kitchen – the bane of my existence as a foodie. My method involves allowing the dishes to drip dry until . . . the saints come home. Since my sink-style drainer can only accommodate the silverware, three or four cups, and the plates, once upon a time I  placed dish towels all over the counters with the remaining piles of sparkling dishes on top.

I am a nothing if not a woman committed to progress. My archaic system went by the wayside like the daily sweeping of my golden retriever rugs laminate floors did before God’s greatest invention since sweet tea, the Roomba. A chance encounter with an end cap special at the Mecca of the South and Voila! Instead of piles of dish towels, my counter had a lovely, little, rapid-dry dish mat.

Although not coordinating with my décor, the colors reminded me of the beach; so why not? Do what makes you happy! At least, my super soft hands can pretend they are in the Gulf of Mexico while my eyes are stimulated by the colors of my beloved Emerald Coast. If I poured sand around my feet, then I would have the complete package. That, however, might tax my precious Rosie (my beloved Roomba). “The Jetsons” fans would totally understand my attachment to her. Seriously, I adore her.

drying mat

All was fine until my drying mat (who has no name – yet) encountered a wayward marshmallow. Really, who leaves a marshmallow, a green one nonetheless, to bake in the sun on my dish mat buddy? Oh wait! I get it now! One of my children just wanted their new little mallow friend to enjoy the illusion of Pensacola Beach like their mother does when Calgon doesn’t take her away after meals.

Wonder Twins (aka washer and dryer) to the rescue! Only that’s not what happened. Instead of a quick cleaning, I had to get an advanced degree in laundry terminology.

A cursory glance at the tag on the mat had me just about as frustrated as that Clue game of my childhood. My first thought was, “What in the mayonnaise am I supposed to do with this?” If Rosie had been more like her namesake, she mostly likely could have interpreted. She was no help  – whatsoever! I was stuck trying to decipher what to me appeared to be the Rosetta stone of laundry.

laundry tag

One not prone to waving a white flag hastily, I managed to come up with the following instructions. Add one Alka Seltzer tablet to a glass of water, use not one but two drumsticks on a percussion triangle while listening to your favorite 45 play on your record player, and whatever you do – avoid bumper cars.

While I would love to sit around and bang drums all day, I failed to see how any of that was going to clean marshmallow (he seriously should have used sunscreen) off my drying mat. Acquiescing to husband’s sage advice of “this isn’t rocket surgery”, my quest for truth, justice and the laundry way led to a resource, with a saucy little name, which enlightened my laundry knowledge.

Frankly, I think my instructions had much more pizzazz, but at least the decoded ones actually work. I am attaching them here to save another mom or dad or better yet, teenager, the agony of a deer-in-headlights feeling of not knowing what to do. http://www.textileaffairs.com/c-common.htm See what I mean by saucy: textile affairs – which leads me to wonder if they know about any trysts involving wayward socks.

Oh well!  Never take yourself too seriously, and next time, I think I will just have kids dry the dishes.

 

Laundry woes

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Two times of day, I have peaceful solitude. The first is early morning devotions, and the second is when the day is done. The house is quiet and I check in on what happened in the world. For the latter, sometimes I sneak in a conversation with one of my friends. Those small touch point chats encourage me for bonding moments where we swap stories and giggles. So it was a few days ago while talking online with a friend.  Truth be told, she and I have only met once, introduced by mutual friends. Initially, our friendship was sparked over a common life experience – losing a child – but we have since learned that we share many other interests.

During this chat, we shared more than a few laughs as we talked about our busy days. At some point, the tone of the repartee took a cathartic turn bonding over things that frustrate us– like chores that never end and lessons we are continually teaching our kids. Since we’ve only met the one time briefly, she quickly relayed that she loved her kids, lest I think otherwise.

Do not get me wrong! I realize that our “worries” are first world problems and that much of the world would love to have has many dishes to wash because that would mean there is food to eat. I also realize that the beast, also known as laundry, pales to those who don’t have adequate clothing or shoes. My world is a blessed one compared to a majority of the world.

Yet, I completely understand her thinking. My children are the world to me. PERIOD. However, they much like their mother are not perfect, and there are days that I feel like I am instilling the same lesson over and over. It is tiring, humbling, and on more than one occasion, frustrating. I have even warned my children with drafting a letter to their future college roommates sending my apologies and explaining that I did my best.

Instead of futuristic letter writing, I decided to put my years of training as a classroom teacher to good use. If nothing else, I got my frustrations out, and had a good chuckle while doing so. What is written below is the result of my overactive imagination.

Laundry Quiz

Carefully read through each question and answer to the best of your ability.

Section One: True or False

Please circle the appropriate answer.

  1. True or False.  The appropriate time to remember that you stashed dirty clothes in your closet and under your bed is when Mom has finished all the laundry for the day.
  2. True or False.  Mom’s van also serves as a closet for your stinky clothes following sleepovers, playdates, or sports practice.
  3. True or False.  The best place to store uneaten candy is in your pants pocket.
  4. True or False.  The best time of day to remember you need your jersey washed for tomorrow’s game is at 2:00 AM.
  5. True or False.  Clothes that have been worn for less than an hour and are not stained should immediately land in the dirty clothes pile.

Please go back and look over your answers in Section One. Your choices might determine whether your mother chooses to reveal herself as Emperor Palpatine later at dinner tonight.

Section Two: Multiple Choice.

6. Places where your dirty clothes should not be found

a. Mom’s van (HINT: you might want to go back and double check your answer to #2)

b. Your floor (especially if your room is next to the laundry room)

c.  The dirty clothes pile/basket

d.  The bathroom floor

e.  Both a & b

f.  Answers a, b, & d are correct.

 

7.  When walking downstairs while carrying nothing, a good use for your hands and arms might be

a.  Try to find the best location for future tattoos

b.  Flex your muscles to see how much time you need to put in at the gym

c.  Pick up dirty clothes pile and take to the laundry room

d.  Practice stiff arm placement for Irish dance lessons

 

8. When you do not put away clothes from your own assigned basket, the message you are sending your mother is

a.  Oops, I forgot! (Remember your mother wrote a song about this, and she would be happy to share it on YouTube.)

b.  Cha-ching! Extra money for college funds! Reasoning: We don’t each need a room. We would like to live hostel-style. All of our clothes can be kept in the laundry room, and we can rent out our current rooms.

c.  We don’t really like our clothes all that much, and we hate to break our mother’s heart. Feel free to donate those clothes to less fortunate children.

d.  Winter has been hard in Minnesota. We hear that they are in need of warm materials for bed linings at the Humane Society. Stay warm four legged friends!

 

9. The thing to be done with clothes hanging on the drying rod is:

a.  open a rather eclectic boutique in the basement.

b.  fold them and place in the owner’s basket.

c.  offer them as wardrobe for the next class play.

d.  hide behind them in an epic game of Hide-N-Seek.

 

10.  If you are able to read English and you are suffering from no mobility issues, you are also capable of

a.  Placing a load of dirty clothes in the washer and starting said washer.

b.  Placing a load of clean clothes in the dryer or hanging clean clothes on drying rod.

c.  Folding clean and dry clothes.

d.  Getting a job of any means to pay for having the family’s laundry sent out.

e.  All of the above are correct answers.

f.  Okay, a, b, & c are more realistic answers.

 

Any given day of the week . . . sadly

Any given day of the week . . . sadly

Meanwhile . . . back to reality.

Mothers (and fathers) of the world – JOIN ME!

Well, maybe you can . . . after you unbury yourselves from Mount St. Laundry.

Who knows, I might just start penning that letter . . . after I get the next load of laundry done.