Out of Towels...Again

Notice:

************
(To all household members,
but particularly the 11 year old boy who likes to shower several times a day)


Using a clean towel to dry off your clean body, does not make that towel dirty.

Balling it up and throwing it in the dirty clothes hamper to mildew, does.

Stop it.

Thank you.

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If you could tell your family one thing about the laundry, what would it be?

Sick

Sincere apologies for the following.

The sound is unmistakable - your kid throwing up in the middle of the night. And when it's far away - as in down the hall and in his bedroom, not close by in the bathroom - you just know it's going to be a long night.

There will be laundry. Lots and lots of laundry.

Over the weekend Cam was battling a stomach bug and at 2 am he lost the battle. There was no warning, he insisted, he simply woke up and threw up.

By the time I got to his room, he was standing up on his bed, horrified (and still half asleep), and looking down at the mess that had just come out of him. Cam likes lots of pillows and blankets - he creates a nest of sorts every night - so the damage was pretty big.

There were three pillows and three pillow cases, a blanket and a thick comforter, a fitted sheet, and Cam's boxers, all needing to be washed. That was at least four loads. The mattress needed scrubbing and Cam needed a bath and his hair washed. I wanted a shower too.

But the one who got it the worst, by far, was Oliver. He's been sleeping in Cam's nest for a while now, right up by his head, and trust me when I say that that was the worst place to be at 2 am on Sunday morning. Oliver. Was. Drenched. From head to tail, he was covered!

Now Troy has never been able to handle the cleaning and caring of a vomiting child. He has a sympathy reflex that makes him fairly useless, but that night, he was just going to have to suck it up and help with this. Troy's job was to bathe Oliver and to keep him from cleaning himself. I could hear Troy's faux retching while I tackled the bed and the mattress.

I wiped the bedding, stripped the bed, the washing machine got started, the mattress was scrubbed and sprayed (Febreeze, I love you), and Aaron moved to my bed to escape the smell. After Oliver got his bath (Thanks, Troy...I knew you could do it), Cam got in the tub and cleaned up, and then laid down on the floor on the pallet of blankets that I'd made for him.

I've been doing this whole parenting thing long enough to know the number one rule: Do NOT put a vomiting child into your bed after his bed has been ruined. You will end up with another ruined bed, and this time, it will be yours. Vomiting children sleep on the floor...or even better, in the bathtub.

I started another load of laundry.

We gave Cam some chewable Pepto Bismol, which he promptly threw up - made it to the bathroom this time. Oliver still smelled funky and Cam was crying over his stomach pain. Troy gave Oliver another bath and I headed to Walmart for the good stuff - liquid Pepto. It was close to 3 am.

Now Walmart at 3 am is...interesting. I didn't see any other shoppers, but the place was packed with people stocking the shelves. And anything that's said over the intercom (calling team meetings, etc.) is done in Spanish.

I got the Sick Kid Trifecta: Pepto Bismol, Sprite and Saltines and went through the one open checkout.

"How are you tonight?" asked the checker.

"Well, I'm on a Pepto run at 3 am - I've had better nights."

"Debit? Here's your receipt. Enjoy the rest of your night."

She recited her script, oblivious to my meager attempt at humor. Buenos Noches.

Home again, Cameron swallowed and kept down the medicine. He drank some Sprite and fell asleep, a large bowl by his head. I switched the laundry and started another load. Troy had opened a window in the boys' room to air it out and we so moved Aaron back to his bed.

Oliver slept in our bed, leery of being by Cameron again. Can you imagine the horror of his night? First, being awakened like he was, then two baths. Poor puppy. He needs a breath mint.

And definitely another bath.

Tagged Again

My friend and frequent commenter on Movie Quote Monday, Pinklady, tagged me last week. So just in case there's anything else I haven't already told you...


Ten years ago I was: 29. Cameron had just turned one and I was happily immersing myself in Mommyhood. Seriously, I was having the time of my life with him. I worked at the sign company (part owners) just 2-3 days a week and my sister, Kelly watched him for us. I was Young Women's president in our ward. We were finishing all the paperwork to adopt another baby, and I was getting excited to open up our adoption with Cameron's birthmom. I was happy with my weight (this is significant only because I can pretty much tell you my weight and pants size at every age, also what diet I was following. There have been fluctuations.) and I was doing a step class 3x a week. I was trying my hand at scrapbooking.

5 things on my to-do list:
1. I need to clean out our storage room. This will still be on my list a year from now, just wait.

2. Make a dentist appointment for Troy. He says something's brewing in his mouth, and that's not good. I think I'm still paying on his last dental bill.

3. Continue building up my food storage. The boys call it the grocery store in the basement.

4. Catch up on my tivo. I'm waiting for Troy to be home so we can watch American Idol and Lost together.

5. You know there's some laundry to fold. That is the absolute first thing on my list today. Okay, after I'm done blogging. And after I get back from Sam's Club. And after I do some dishes. Maybe I'll get to it.

3 bad habits:
1. I'm too critical of myself.

2. I let the waiting-to-be-folded laundry pile up. Oh, you probably already know that, so that doesn't count.

2. I spend what we earn in a paycheck to paycheck kind of way. Getting better on that one.

3. I correct Troy's grammar. I can't help myself. He replaces the word loan with borrow, as in "Will you borrow me your nail gun?", and it's like fingernails on a chalkboard until I blurt out the correct phrase. I think he's just doing it to bug me.



If I suddenly became a billionaire: I'd be debt free, with awesome savings and retirement accounts. My family would be debt free. Missions and college would be paid for. That doesn't even touch it, does it? I need to start dreaming bigger.

Things I like to snack on: Well, is it a healthy day or an I don't care kind of a day? If it's a healthy snack, I like blueberries, edamame, and Baked Tostitos Scoops with Walmart brand Peach Pineapple Chipotle Salsa (don't knock it till you've tried it). But I can eat an entire bag of those chips and a whole bottle of that salsa at one time, so that kind of crosses it off the healthy side. If I'm throwing all calories to the wind, I love ice cream, chocolate, chips and dip or salsa, and Flamin' Hot Cheetos. I have no portion control and I need to balance the sweet with the salty.

Places I've lived: Speedway, Indiana - you could hear the racecars going around the track; Salt Lake City, Utah, then on to Sacramento and San Jose, California, and then back to Utah.

Things people don't know about me: I've never had my nails done. I still have a baby tooth that never fell out. That's it...I think I've told everything about me. If there's anything you want to know, go ahead and ask.

I tag Mrs.J and Nora.

Clean Out Your Pockets!

Question for you.

If a child (And really, he's not a child so much anymore. The boy is almost eleven.) puts something in his pants pocket to use throughout the day, shouldn't he also be able to remove that something from the pocket before tossing the pants into the dirty clothes? Hmmmm?

Yeah, I thought so too.

The cold, windy weather has descended on us and Cameron, being the lip licker that he is, has some chapped lips. He put some lip stuff in his pocket and then never took it out.

This is what I pulled out of the washer -- the lid is gone and so is all the stuff inside.

I presume that the stuff is melted and distributed nicely throughout the entire load of laundry.

If you see greasy looking marks on our clothing, this is why. It's not french fries, it's lip stuff.

So I'm all,

"Dude! You didn't take your lip stuff out of your pants!"

And he's all,

"You're supposed to check all the pockets before you wash anything."

And then I'm all,

"Oh no you di'n't just say that!"

I think some fire shot out of my eyes. Arms definitely flailed in exasperation and indignation.

So he's all,

"Sorry..."

Finding dollar bills in the wash is great. I've also gathered rocks, Hot Wheels, a pocket knife, and many coins. Crud, maybe it is my job. But lip stuff? Greasy, stainy lip stuff?

Please!

What's the worst thing you've pulled out of the laundry?

April Fresh Piles

Sure, it starts off with just one little load of whites. That I don't fold right away.

But then the boy who only has three pairs of pants (because he can't wear anything besides these Old Navy, elastic waist, nylon mesh, silky soft pants. And there were only three colors.) mentioned that he doesn't have anything to wear.

So I threw in a load of kid's clothes.

Can't fold right now... Dancing With The Stars is on.

And then the man came home with dirty laundry in his duffel bag.

Towels were next. (They are clean when they dry off - why can't they use the same towel more than once?)

Might as well wash my clothes too. Still haven't folded anything.

What have you been neglecting lately?

Experiencing Difficulties

Nearly 30 years ago, my family moved from California to Utah, and into a lovely rambler home that was newly built and ready for us to move into. Well, almost ready. There was a problem in the kitchen, an inconvenience really. The stove and oven didn't work. Or they weren't there yet...I don't remember the exact circumstances, just that for a few weeks, we (meaning my Mom) didn't have them to cook with.

This was before microwaves and outdoor gas grills and the option of eating out was unheard of. My Mom cooked everything for every meal in an electric skillet, plugged into the wall and sitting on the counter. The skillet was on the counter, Mom was standing. She probably used the crock pot too.

She made grilled cheese sandwiches and one dish meals, pairing them with cut up apples and salads. I even remember her making those chocolate-oatmeal no bake cookies, boiling and stirring them in the skillet, and dropping them onto waxed paper to cool. Now that's resourcefulness - no oven to bake cookies...no problem, Mom had a recipe for boiled cookies.

If I were to have to go without my stove top and oven for a week or so, it probably wouldn't seem like that much of a big deal. I have my trusty microwave, my crock pot, the grill, the griddle, the value-menu at every drive-thru. We would be just fine. I wouldn't be making no-bake cookies to keep my family's spirits up - I'm not even sure if the family would notice if the oven went out. I'm into crock pot cooking lately.

Last week, however, we did have an appliance stop working - and we all knew about it. And have suffered.

How long can you go without one?


Of course it happened while Troy was gone. And being the delicate flower of a woman that I am, I don't like messing with things that look like this:

Or this:

The water heater wasn't cracked or leaking. It seemed to just be a problem with the pilot light staying lit. Which sounds a whole lot cheaper than having to replace the thing.



Re-lighting the pilot light. How hard could it be? I sat down to read the warnings and instructions, reading and reading, and reading again. I did NOT want to be an article in the newspaper. But I also wasn't too keen on taking a cold shower in the morning. How would it sound to miss work because you don't have any hot water?


I followed the instructions precisely, and no flame. Cold shower it was. Well, not exactly a shower - I knelt by the side of the tub and ducked my head under the faucet. The rest of me got a sponge bath and I called it good enough. Troy would be home in the morning and it would all magically become his problem.


Troy always hates it when he's gone and things aren't working right. So he sent his brother over to mess with it. Say hi to Kendall.

He's a handy sort of guy to have around.

He gave it his all.

But no luck. Thanks for trying, Kendall.


I called a place that knew about water heaters and they said they could send a guy over on Friday afternoon, between 2 and 4. That was fine - I don't work on Fridays and don't need to wash my hair. Or take a sponge bath.



Now the problem was this:

And this.

Also

And

Funny how the laundry multiplies so fast.


Yes, I know I could have boiled water and done dishes by hand. Cameron said that if I did that, I should dress up like a pioneer. Instead, I emptied the dishwasher and just got them off the counter and out of the sink. Immediate problem solved.

At 5:30 on Friday, the boy who knows about water heaters showed up. (How could he really know what to do? He didn't even know that his pants are supposed to be be pulled up over his buttocks and covering his underwear.) He got down on the floor, and without reading any of the instructions or warning labels, started punching reset buttons and automatic ignition switches. I know for a fact that you are only supposed to push on the ignition thingy up to four times in a row before stopping and returning to step two, which involves rereading the instructions, waiting ten minutes, eating a piece of chocolate, and then trying again. The boy must have punched that thing 50 times while I waited for the whole thing to blow up.

It would have looked like this:

But it lit. And stayed lit. Nice boy, even with his low hanging jeans - didn't charge us for this house call to light the pilot light.

I did the dishes and all of the laundry, we all took showers, and then it went out. Now it's the middle of the weekend. Troy was able to relight the thing and keep us in hot water for about a day and a half, before it went out again - permanently. More icy hair washing would be taking place.

I called Whirlpool to talk about my warranty (6 years. And the water heater is only two years old! Yeah, Baby!), and wound up talking to Rosa in India. She was sympathetic, in a scripted sort of way, and kept assuring me that she was "sorry I was experiencing these difficulties," and that she would "be able to send me the thermonuclear trans-whirligig right away and that after we installed it, we would no longer be experiencing those difficulties".

"How long will it take it get here?" I asked, imagining myself and the boys showering at the gym.

"It will take seven to ten working business days before it will arrive and you will no longer be experiencing difficulties."

"I can't wait that long - I don't have any HOT WATER! Isn't there a place locally that has this thing?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm sorry. It is the new and improved thingamacurrybop and we have to ship it to you. I can overnight it to you, but you will have to pay for it. I guarantee that it will stop your difficulties tomorrow."

My voice became a little bit shrill, and I used words like "insane" and "outrageous". There would be no charming of computerized-response Rosa to get out of this. So I paid her overnight shipping charge, and listened to her assure me again of my soon-to-end difficulties. I think "difficulties" was the word of the day at Whirlpool, India Division. I bet she said it a dozen times.

It did not escape me that I was complaining about my lack of running, instant, hot water to someone who lived in India. Like I said, I'm just a delicate flower of a woman. She's got her problems, I've got mine.

Okay, fine...in the broader scope of life difficulties, hers are bigger.

A box from Tennessee arrived this morning with the new and improved, gas-o-matic flux capacitor. Troy was in town long enough to install it (perfect timing, Babe), and, true to Rosa's word, I am not experiencing those difficulties any longer.

Dishes are done, laundry is in the works, and I'm looking forward to a HOT shower in the morning. Aaaaah, hot water, running from the faucets.

What appliance could you just not do without?

Okay, I'll do one already

So here goes. My blog has officially started. And the crowd cheers. Or not. Basically, I've been toying with the idea of a blog for several months, spending way too much time browsing other blogs, when, as my title suggests, I could certainly be catching up on my dishes and laundry. So with a lot of encouragement from Troy and a few other friends and family (especially my blogging-savvy sister, Rachel), I'm gonna give it a try.

I'm feeling overwhelmed by the basic decisions of starting this - deciding on a name, template, whether or not to use my children's names. Others have come up with such witty or meaningful names, and honestly, I would have done this weeks ago, but I've been trying to come up with a decent name. And tonight it hit me when I ran up from the basement to change some laundry over to the dryer and had to decide whether I should start another load of laundry or do the dishes. I can't run them both at the same time - one of them would surely run out of hot water. Dishes or laundry...dishes or laundry...and there it was - the title of my blog. So instead of doing either, I plopped right down in front of my computer and now here I am.

So Dishes and Laundry it is - two aspects of my life that always seem out of control. I think I'm caught up, but one snack later or Troy coming home from a trip with a bag full of laundry, and there it is all over again. And my family isn't even very big! I should probably make it more of a priority, but there are so many other pressing things going on. (Use of the word "pressing" not to be construed as an ironing/laundry pun. I don't iron. Toss it in the dryer with a wet towel is what I've always done and I'm raising my boys that way.) We also seem to have a lot of clothes, at least the boys do, so I allow myself to fall behind and they still have clean clothes. I always have good intentions - I unload the dryer and put the clean clothes on my bed to fold and put away. This is where it all goes awry. Too many nights I stumble to my room, going to bed later than I should, only to discover that I never got the folding done. So I gather the clothes and put them in a pile on the floor. Next morning, they go back on the bed, and I'm sure to get to it, right? Nope, I'll confess that I have moved the same load from the bed to the floor, to the floor to the bed, and back to the floor, and then back to the bed before I get around to folding and putting away. And you know that I'm washing and drying and adding to the pile, so it just grows and grows. My mother would be so proud.

I do need order in the kitchen, before I can start my day, so polishing up in there is usually the first order of business. Unfortunately, I can end my day just fine without the kitchen being clean. I start winding down about 5pm - not much housework will get done after that, but I'm a ball of energy most mornings. That's just me. And that's how two basic household tasks can get the better of me, yet still end up as the title characters in my blog.

I wondered as well, if I would have enough things to write about. But I've found that since I knew I'd eventually start a blog, I've been piecing together paragraphs in my mind, stories and observations that I know you've all been waiting to hear. A lot of my mental composing happens in the shower - don't know why, it just does. I also practice giving my Young Women's lessons and have practice conversations with people while in the shower. The people aren't there, I just compose my words for the talking that we will be doing later in the day. So now you know - if I start up a conversation with you, chances are, I've already been practicing my side.

So I have a few things to write about, and I know that more will come along. As for the dishes and laundry? Tomorrow morning's looking pretty good.