The years when the most children (twenty-one) lived at home at one time, were the most amazing in terms of laundry. My two washers and two dryers were running almost without stopping, seven days a week. This translated to up to fourteen loads per day. The washers began right after breakfast, and the dryers were just finishing when I went to bed after checking the children's schoolwork, and plans for the next day. I bought cheap, concentrated detergent in bulk, and was always cleaning lint filters. I was the queen of the laundry!
An entire small room was devoted to sorting clothes. Floor to ceiling shelves held a basket for each person in the family, plus me. That meant twenty-two baskets for clothing. One whole room was just for the storage of quilts and sheets, in a never-ending riot of coming and going.
Back in 1977, when I only had six children, I wrote this poem. I couldn't have dreamed about the army of wet sheets yet to come ... !
The reason for the extreme amount of laundry in 1989 was simple. Thirteen of my children were in diapers, because of age, physical disability, or brain damage; and three more wet the bed at night.
Sorting clothes was a very tedious chore. There were a few children who found it fun to sort with me, and put things in baskets for me as I sorted. It was a perfect time to chat with mom, when she was a captive audience! I borrowed my daughter Cherise's books on tape for the times when no one came in to talk, and I was still sorting.
Sock sorting was a theme unto itself. How well I remember the years before this time, when I was still thinking I could eventually match up all the socks if I just kept every single one, and tried again and again. The day I surrendered this goal to the wind was the day I laid out two hundred separate socks, across the living room floor, and there was not one single match. That was when I threw them all away, and began buying in bulk from a catalog. Boxes of socks arrived via the UPS man. I had discovered the most successful idea ever. I still remember, all the smallest socks for tiny toddlers were red. The next size up were blue. All older teenage boys wore white tube socks with blue stripes, younger teenage boys wore white with red stripes, etc. All were the same brand, the same style. Ah, the struggle was over! Matching them up was a breeze! There would be a pile of each color every day. Remembering who wore what size was easy. When a child moved to the next size up, it did not take much time to remember the change.
I kept this up for many years.
It was grand for me, (though hard on the machines) when I finally decided to teach my children to do laundry. Little by little, the children were taught, then assigned part of this mammoth chore. I made a rotating chart, and my time was freed to home school. Eventually, all children who were able, did their own laundry. I do not miss my years as Queen of the Laundry one little bit!
2004 Rosemary Gwaltney
