Laundry: thirty loads down the rabbit trail

"Do you really do 30 loads a week? I think we do 11-12. I have more kids..... lol."

Absolutely.  4 loads a day most days with a 5th load a couple of times per week- easy. To make sure I wasn't exaggerating, I conferred with both my father-in-love and my mother-in-love.  (They live in a grandy flat attached to The Shoe.)  It took fingers and toes, but we agreed that 30 loads/week was a reasonable estimate.

Still, it started me thinking, "Thirty loads?  Where does all that laundry come from?" My brain is tired of crunching numbers for taxes and would like a diversion, so I am going to follow this rabbit trail for the sheer pointlessness pleasure it may bring.

Each bedroom has 1 hamper per person.  Ideally, that hamper would hold a week's worth of laundry for its owner. 

Ideally.  

In a perfect world.  

In another universe, but most definitely not here.  Oh, it works for the mommy, the mid-sized children and, occasionally, for the tall ones who don't stain things, but the daddy, the stain-prone and the littlest ones will not be constrained to one hamper per week.

A husband who works out of doors makes about 2 loads per week all by his lonesome self. (3 loads if he showers 2x per day.  The towels never have a chance to dry!) I was able to quantify this while he was in Arizona.  My laundry day was suddenly much easier.  Not so easy that I wanted him to stay in AZ but a comfort nonetheless.

Evie is a spitter, which translates to several outfits a day for her and sometimes for me.

Nolan is making extra laundry right now since he is potty training, although we are keeping that to a minimum by forbidding him the privilege of pants.  Pants take precious time that make the difference between success and failure.  Shirts and undies.  Sorry, little man.  Someday you'll be allowed to wear pants again, I promise.

There is the "I'm going to wear that again, so why put it away" laundry and the  "I changed my mind, I guess I'll hang it on the floor" laundry.  Add in the dress-up clothes, doll clothes and even GI Joe clothes that kids  throw into their hampers instead of the toy bins, and you end up at some crazy number of loads per week.  (Our laundry system is such that the big kids wash the laundry for all the people in their bedroom.  This means that I don't always see the ridiculous things that go through the wash until I see something like miniature camo pants on top of a load destined to be folded in the boys' room.  I wouldn't want anyone to think that I just throw things into the wash willy-nilly.)

The pets add to the mess by sleeping on things I would rather they didn't. If it is fabric and on the floor, our dog thinks it is his blanket and lays down on it.  Yes, even if it is only a washcloth.  If he wasn't making such a hairy mess, it might be cute to see a 100 pound chocolate lab trying to curl up on a "blanket" that is 5 inches square. The cats are no better; they manage to shed on every surface, horizontal and vertical, in the house.  White cat climbing blue curtains = laundry.  Of course, so does 'toddler sitting at window seat, using curtains in place of napkins'.

Speaking of napkins...we still use paper napkins, but don't often buy paper towels.  Microfiber cloths are used for cleaning anything that doesn't make me gag. As a veteran mother and midwife, there are few things that make me gag. Our stash of microfiber rags needs washed a couple of times per week, in small loads of their own.  (Washing them with the other towels covers them in lint and makes them less effective for cleaning.)

And so it goes. Or so it went. This week was magical.  Oh, the same family making all the same laundry still lives here, but now, NOW we have Matilda.  Suddenly, our 30ish loads have become our 18ish loads.  Bliss, I tell you, BLISS.

Dear, dear Matilda,

This week was a lovely beginning for what I can see will be a happy relationship.

Yours devotedly, 

The Mama

a laundry lamentation: death of a washing machine

The measure of household functionality at our house is laundry.  If we are "caught up" with laundry, it is usually a good sign that everything is going smoothly. You've heard the saying "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy"?  At our house, it might be said that "if mama ain't happy, the laundry ain't done". The last three weeks have seen a slow but marked decrease in laundry productivity. I am happy to report that it is because our washer is on the blink instead of Mommy.

At first, it was easy enough to compensate. The washer was occasionally stalling at the end of the wash cycle. It was inconvenient to remember to go out to the garage and advance the dial forward a couple of clicks halfway through the cycle, but not impossible.

The weekend before Christmas, we decided that, come Monday, I should call the repairman.  And I did.  As soon as I remembered- on Wednesday when we reached the multiple intervention stage. Up until this point, we were still managing to get at least 3 or 4 loads done each day.  But when each cycle started needing 3 or 4 interventions, we began falling behind sock by shirt by towel. Our trusty repairman promised to visit first thing today, Monday the 27th.  In the meantime, Mt. Washmore grew quickly.  

I don't know why I bother to call for repairs to washing machines.  Ever.  Dishwashers, refrigerators and dryers seem to be in a different category for us, but I can't remember one single time that it has been worth my time or money to call for a washing machine repair.  This morning was no exception.  The timer needs replaced, pricetag: $200.  It also "sounds like" the bearings are going out, in which case "we recommend replacement". 

There you have it: the death sentence.  I am not going to sink $200 into a dying machine.  It's not like this particular machine and I have a long, sentimental history.  We only go back 2, maybe 2.5 years at most. 

A repairman once told me that the average lifespan of a washing machine is estimated to be 7 years at 7 loads per week which comes out to 2100 loads.  If we wash approximately 30 loads per week, we have used up that allowance in roughly 70 weeks or 1 year 4 months.  If we go with ehow.com's estimation: 400 loads per year for 11 years, we are still using up our load allowance in 2 years 10 months.  Since we usually get at least 2 years and sometimes 3 years from our machines, I feel that we are getting reasonable use out of "they don't build 'em like they used to" machines.  Still, it leaves us in a laundry dilemma far too often. (I would be interested to compare washing machine morbidity and mortality rates with other large families.)

Matilda, our new washer

We've bought new.  We've bought used from dealers on craigslist.  We've bought used from private parties. Used doesn't seem to last as long as new, but since I haven't specifically tracked the usage of each machine, I won't make a definitive ruling.

Here's the approach we are trying this time.  After several hours of online research (reading reviews and comparison shopping),  I bought a scratch-and-dent, new machine plus a 5 year service plan for the cost of the same machine before its scratch-and-dent discount.  (Newsflash: our new machine also qualified for a state residential energy tax credit!) I am hoping that this route will end up being at least as cost effective as buying 2 (or 3) used washers in the same time frame but with less stress.

Since I am planning to be in a long term relationship with this particular washer, I felt she needed a name.  Don't ask me why or how...it just came to me when I was bringing her home; her name is Matilda, and our relationship is off to a great start.  For one thing, she has a "estimated time remaining" screen.  Be still my beating heart!  And her tub is 4.0 cu ft (our last machine had a 3.5 cu ft tub.)  Who knew that half a cubic foot could make such a difference?  WoW!  Even as we speak, she is finishing her first enormous load.  At this rate, we'll be caught up this week tomorrow SOON!

house of chaos and contagion

Here we are on day 2? 3? 4? of chaos and contagion.

This is the current view in our living room.

The curtains are drawn to enhance the movie theater feeling.

Madelyn holding today's accessory- the cup. The cup is a definite upgrade from yesterday's accessory- the bowl. Yesterday, I barked at any child seen without their bowl buddy.

All of my large, easy-to-hit bowls were pressed into service, starting with the mint-green tupperware barf bowl of yesteryear up to and including my nice, deep pasta pot.

Panning to the right we have Sarah, who has escaped unscathed thus far, eating breakfast.

Continuing the living room tour, Evie in her swing. She loves the swing, a fact that saved my sanity yesterday when it was just Gavin and I tending the puking hoardes.

Mason also wanted breakfast. This may be a rather optimistic move, only time will tell. He is wearing mismatched jammies because everything else he owns is stained with evidence of sickness (from one end or the other).

Gavin, the hero of yesterday, has finally succumbed. Let me tell you- I would be bald and in a straight jacket if not for his noble help yesterday. He changed nasty diapers and dealt with even nastier, sickness-covered loads of laundry. Loads and loads and loads of nastiness. Plus, he got up in the midnight hours many, many times to change Mason's bed linens and empty his bowl. This heroic deed gave his mother a few, precious hours of sanity-saving sleep.

Now that he is one of the sick, we have given him the entire couch plus control of the movie choices. It's only right.

Last stop in our living room tour- Sirena and Nolan cozied up on Sirena's mattress in the middle of the floor. Sirena decided that trying to make urgent, midnight bathroom trips from the top bunk was a hazardous proposition. So, she prudently relocated her bed to a location that allowed for easier and quicker exits. Thankfully, she is on the upswing and may even eat later today.

It all looks so peaceful and cozy, yes? I won't traumatize you by photographing our laundry. I will say that the bathroom has never been so clean.

My routine yesterday went something like this:

1. nurse the baby

2. change the baby

3. change the toddler

4. empty the bowls

5. bathe the child

6. clean the bathroom

7. transfer the laundry

8. clean the carpet/floor/chair

Repeat

Anything else accomplished was a miracle. Today, however, is a brighter day. Only one child is hugging a bowl, and he, most thankfully, has good aim.