I walk down our creaky, red, wooden stairs with my laundry basket promptly on my hip. I load the soap and clothes into the wash, press the button, and viola. My clothes are washed for me. What a beautiful convenience. I unload the damp towels, socks, pajamas into the dryer. Check the lint trap, all good to go. 60 minutes on the clock. Start button here I come. I push the magic circle.
Chug, chug, whirrrrrrrr.
Then nothing.
I try again.
Chug, whir, womp.
Then nothing.
Again.
Oh appliance fairies please come and fix this somehow. The snow is coming and bringing the drying rack outside will not help in this situation.
Both my husband and father in law attempted a quick fix.
Negatory captain.
We have failure.
Alrighty then. No need to panic. Moving on to maps and seeing where the closest laundromat is. Not too far.
4 minutes driving, 2$ in change, and a book just in case.
It’s not so bad having to go somewhere and do the laundry. It beats hand washing like they did a century ago!
Now that the dryer ordeal is temporarily solved. We need make some chicken noodle soup because my husband has a sniffle.
Thank goodness I did because the next morning both my children woke up rowing in the same snot boat.
And now, thank you husband, I have it.
What can you do?
Usually, I don’t get sick even when everyone in my house is coughing mucus and sneezing food onto me.
God just knows that I’m needed by my wild boys, so he typically spares me that hardship.
However, there are those times, like now, when my entire body aches with the weight of flu virus. My head is pressurized like a weighted canner. Inside that pressure canner head of mine is a brain that refuses to function and figure out what’s going on, let alone what’s for dinner that night.
Because yes, in the morning I’m already thinking about dinner. That’s a necessary mindset when you home cook all your meals and feed a family of four. Occasionally, five, if my father in law decides to join.
Homemaking on the hard days
Homemaking isn’t easy. It’s not something you just master after a year of practice. It is ever changing because your family is growing and shifting. Your convictions change, your schedule, your picky toddler decides he likes carrots suddenly. The baby has teeth so now he can eat more and wants more. It’s non stop.
Obviously, I’ve gotten better at homemaking over time. But it has taken countless days of “i have no idea what I am going to do” to finally begin to figure it out.
I’ve found what works and what doesn’t. What my family likes and dislikes.
And yet, with all those days of victory, the failures still feel so big.
Monumentally huge.
Because my husband had to buy his lunch at a gas station.
My kids ate the same thing twice in a day.
The dogs didn’t eat.
I haven’t eaten.
The dryer is broken and everyone’s sick. The tumbleweeds of dog hair are floating around my floor.
Not all days are winners. Some are real stinkers.
Like my toddler didn’t turn on the fan in the bathroom while pooping stinkers.
What the heck do I do about it?
I don’t do anything.
I do the BARE MINIMUM.
Feed hungry mouths and take care of the sickness at hand.
I’ll get to the dishes. I’ll get to those tufts.
I know they aren’t going anywhere.
They can wait patiently unlike my young littles who simply cannot.
No playgroup or groceries. I’ll work with what I have. Even if that’s hard boiled eggs and bananas.
People are fed. Healing is in progress.
The dryer will get fixed. The laundry tower will subside.
The joyful homemaking continues even in the midst of turmoil.
Let us go in gratitude for all the blessings we have my friends,
Tayler
