Irish Washer Woman, Jr.

I am sitting here, listening to music, the washing machine and dryer. They are all competing for my attention today. The music seems to know that I am easily distracted by the lyrics of every song that plays from the speakers. Natalie Grant, Third Day, and Hillsong are keeping me from my duties as a wife and mom. Each tender word is speaking to my heart today. Each note is sweet to my ear.

But the washing machine and dryer that rattle in the next room remind me that today is the day that I need to finish every load that sits on the floor. So I do not hear her ask where her favorite Capri's are or he asks if his shorts are clean, I will venture in that room and finish washing, folding, and putting away.

It's easy on some days to be the laundress of the family. It's a mundane chore yet it has to be done. My Mom's nickname at home was "The Irish Washer Women." I chuckled at it when my Dad first called her that, not knowing what it meant. I do now. I take on the task of getting each stain out. Just tell me. "Mom, there is a spaghetti stain on my favorite hoodie." Oh, that isn't a problem I tell her with a smile on my face. It is a challenge to get that stain out. I do. She is impressed. I am the "Irish Washer Woman's" Kid, after all. I was taught by the best. I am a Jr.

I do wish that the desire to stay on task was there every time a load needed to be laundered. It isn't. It takes the right day, the right attitude, the right perspective. If I start a load and I am not in sync with the machine, there is a chance that the load stays in the tumbler. It will be wet and it will start to smell...proof that I was not ready, determined to do the load.



To my dismay, I have friends that are disciplined enough to do a load a day. Wow. Impressive. Jealous. It's not the way I do it. Mt. Saint Laundry. The Great Wall of Laundry. The Leaning Tower of Laundry. "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down that wall of laundry!!" The task is daunting but I slowly work at each load of darks, towels, jeans and the dreaded load of whites. It's my job. It's what I do.

My husband has volunteered to help me recently. I think because with his cycling hobby he sees that there are many more loads added on to the piles. He starts off slowly and tends to do it differently than I do. At first that "drove me crazy!" He sorted differently. He washed on different cycles. He dried using different settings. He finished. Grrr. I do appreciate his help but I know that I am the head of the laundry department but I do accept his blessing!

My daughter hasn't a clue how to do laundry...yet. I will pass my skills down to her when the time is right. I would hate for her to get married and start a family without the "Irish Washer Woman's" secrets. I will pass the torch or rather the detergent to her...sooner rather than later!

The cycle has ended. It is time for me to hang up the shirts that cannot be completely dried, fold what is dried and start another load. Focused for sure.