Sleeping On The Job

Kitteh Laundress finds doing laundry even more exhausting than I do. I didn't know that was possible!

Head Lice

Oh em gee, Internet! This parenting thing is like a roller coaster ride that I can't get off. I'm either flying high or laying in the gutter getting kicked in the hemorrhoid. The hemorrhoid, I received in childbirth I might add. (Not that you have to A.W.)

"Bleh, bleh, bleh."

Yesterday, was a supreme high watching Vinny paddle into and surf waves all on his own. But last night was a supreme low.

I am laying next to Gio, when, suddenly I see him violently scratch his head.

"Ding, ding, ding!" ring my maternal instincts at the abnormal scratching.

"Oh no, he has lice!" I shout.

"Why do you see something?" asks Hubby.

"No, I just know," I say.

It was not a premonition or any sort of psychic knowing. It was simply elementary my Dear Internet. Yes, common sense based on the millions of head lice alerts we have received from Gio's kindergarten class this year. It wasn't a matter of if, but rather when.

"Da, da, da!"

Needless to say, I've been doing tons of laundry and picking nits, yes that's where nitpicking originates, out of Gio's hair ALL DAY LONG. And then some.

The nits were in endless supply. They were going the distance. they were going for speed. I was all alone. In my time of need.

Huh? Sorry, I wrote out in song.

And we now return to our regular programming.

"Honey, we should just give them buzz cuts," I say admitting Nit Defeat.

"Yeah, let's do it!" says Hubby.

Sadly, my Dear Sweet Mother gave them cute haircuts last night thinking their hair would be short enough.

"Their hair is still too long," I text my Mom.

"I don't have my clippers," texts my Mom.

"I have clippers," I text.

"I don't like yours," texts my Mom.

"For the love of lice free hair make it shorter, please!" I text.

Silence

Come to find out, my Mom doesn't like burr, that's what she calls them, cuts. And if my Mom doesn't like something she doesn't do it. Period. And now, Internet, you know where I get it from.

Anyways, with no hope of my Mom helping, Hubby was on Crew Cut Detail armed with CVC Pharmacy Special Clippers, which of course, "are no good."

"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

Apparently the thought of Hubby buzzing the boys hair was worse to my Mom, than her having to shave the boys bald herself.

Being quite resourceful, and knowing how to get stuff done she doesn't want to do herself, my Mom calls in for Special Ops Lice Out. And when she calls for backup, she don't mess around y'all.

Fortunately, my Mom's BFF is a barber, Lily The Lovely, who is a beautiful angel. Lily came to the house and buzzed all three boys. Hubby thankfully is not infested with bugs, trust me I went ape all over that shat, but thought he'd sport a buzz cut for the boys' sake.

I will post a picture of Hubby's cute new do tomorrow. In the meantime, I will be doing laundry. Loads and loads of laundry. And praying for a lice free environment.

Dirty Laundry

For years, the laundry has been talking dirty to me. Being the tolerant person I am, I've overlooked the harassment, until today.

The filthy thing started singing, "And I'm Not Going," to me, specifically the following lyrics:

There's no way I can ever, ever go,
No, no, no, no way,
No, no, no, no way I'm livin' without you.
Oh, I'm not livin' without you,
I'm not livin' without you.
I don't wanna be free.
I'm stayin',
I'm stayin',
And you, and you,
You're gonna love me

Though, I may as well face the Tide, the laundry is probably right, I'm not goin' anywhere. But I don't have to love her. Or Cheer when I have to do her.

I can still yearn for my freedom, and be Bold . Yes, I'll Shout It Out knowing full well, it's a complete and endless Downy.

And if I didn't Surf so much, I'm sure my private Mount Washmore, would be much more attainable.

Oh and by the way, I love this song. It's totally Fab, but not when the laundry is singing it to me. The Glee cast version is All that and more, y'all.

Self Help Therapy

I have this little rule I put into practice, when I remember, and let's just say I forget a lot:

Everyone is a mirror of me.

Therefore, whatever advice I give to someone, I am really giving to myself, because everyone is me. Hence the adage, "follow your own advice."

That's not difficult to follow, right? Plus, I usually give pretty good advice so I don't mind following it myself.

But what about when someone is irritating me with an annoying habit? Such as, putting clean laundry in the dirty bin. Or failing to rinse the toothpaste out of the sink, minutes after I finish scrubbing the sink.

I'm pretty sure I never do those two things. And even if I did, it doesn't count, because I'm the only one who does laundry or bothers to clean the sinks.

But, seriously, is there a point where the concept Everyone is a mirror of me, really doesn't apply, to me? Yes, I believe so.

That's when I follow my own advice.

I take a few deep breaths, right before yelling, "please, for the love of servants everywhere, stop the unnecessary messes and clean up after yourself, now!"

In conclusion, I'm very messy and often don't clean up after myself.

What is that smell?

For my birthday two years ago I got a front loading washing machine. Obviously, my first choice was a surfboard, but the old washer broke, so I took one for the team. Afterall, the team that could not live without a washing machine.

I like to take my time on purchases, especially big ticket items. I have been known to take years deciding on the right car. With the washer I had hours to make a decision, as I was already behind on the laundry. Does anyone really get caught up on laundry for four people?

I have had some ideas for limiting dirty laundry. If everyone would quit wearing clothes there wouldn't be any dirty laundry. I know this isn't a practical solution for most climates, but I would consider moving, to make this option work. And I am totally open to loin cloths and fig leaves.

A second option I have thought of is covering clothing with a layer of protective plastic, not unlike the protective plastic found on furniture and other junk. The only problem I see with this option is the sound. After all, plastic is noisy and there would be no more sneaking up on people and saying, "surprise!"

To make a long story slightly shorter, I chose the four times more expensive front loading option. I am a proponent of quality and I am willing to pay more for it. Here in lies the problem. Yes, front loaders use much less water, so I can feel good about saving the planet. But remember the saying, the road to the place no one wants to go is paved with good intentions?

So approximately 1 year and 4 months later my washer smells like a raging sewer. Although I couldn't specifically place the stink until last night.

My Mom, current theme song It Happens, does laundry at my house while she babysits. And every week all I hear is, "the laundry smells after I wash it. The washer isn't very good. I don't like it."

OK, did I mention a front loader cost 4 times more than a top loader? So these words are like fingernails scraping a chalkboard to my ears.

However, I found when I used enough fabric softener with matching laundry detergent the clothes smelled OK, I think. Call me, the Chemist. I like experimenting.

I found ways to deal with the stink. I removed the clothes immediately from the washer, thanks to the advice of the Cleaning Goddess. I also discovered if I left the washer door open between loads, the washer didn't stink, but guess what, the garage did?

We basically decided the garage smell was probably coming from a few dead mice, as the skunk smell (future blog stay tuned) had almost completely dissipated.

And here is the epiphany moment folks! (Hold on to your Socks)

The Cleaning Goddess, left me a message on my answering machine, which I got two days later because I rarely feel compelled to check my messages on this relic.(People call me on my cell phone, please. Did I mention my Mom can't understand me on my cell phone? At least that was free! And I am learning to talk slower.)

"My neighbor got a new washer and they told her the washer needs to be drained once a month," the Cleaning Goddess said with concern.

"You can drain it yourself if there is a drain plug in the front. If there isn't a drain plug you have to have the washer serviced once a month. I hope you have a drain plug," the Cleaning Goddess said with compassion that knows no bounds.

"If you don't clean it, it smells. Wendy I think that is why your clothes smell," click.

Upon hearing this alarming message, I did a little research on the Internet. Leaving the door open, turns out, is a good thing because it allows the water left in the bottom of the basin to evaporate. Yay.

The ehow article also recommended cleaning the rubber door seal, as stinky water can get trapped under the seal. I ran to the washer with baby wipes in hand.

I peeled back the rubber door seal, I saw something and it wasn't stinky water. It was dark and wet and there were two of them.

"Are those dead mice in there," I thought out loud in dismay.

Bravely, I reached under the seal with only a baby wipe between my hand and the critters.

I pulled out two socks. Two sewer entrenched socks. One was mine and I liked it.

When I thought about washing it I could hear the Cleaning Goddess's voice in my head saying, "you will never get that sewer smell out of the washer, throw the socks away, now."

I complied. I have found it is much easier to listen to this inner voice immediately than to ignore it and find out the hard way.