It’s 2am on the night feed….
As a parent of a baby I find my patience frequently tested not only by the baby herself, but by the other, little things in life which didn’t used to be such a problem. The little things in life which now sometimes make me want to scream, shout, stamp, cry in no particular order. One clear example of this in my house is the plastic, clean laundry basket which resides (or to be precise used to reside) in our bedroom. Here is my sorry tale.
We have a plastic basket in our bedroom which I am told we need for clean laundry. Note the word clean – so, once clothes have been washed and dried, we are going to put them into a basket. We do not have a large bedroom and therefore it is reasonable in my opinion, to question why the clean laundry cannot just be put away – into the wardrobes where it belongs. I in fact do just put the majority of my clothes away. I say the majority because occasionally the odd T-shirt or bra gets tangled up in this domestic Bermuda Triangle and I may not see them for weeks on end. My issue with the basket stands on many levels. Here is the countdown for the top 8:
1 it’s on my side of the bed. (in front of my wardrobe door). This means quite simply that it gets in my way most days. I trip over it, scrape against it and kick it countless times a week. This leads to the inevitable gesturing at the basket and muttering under my breath about my partner who is the sole guardian of – the basket.
2 before we had the said basket, my partner used to take his clothes off when getting into bed and hang them off the dirty laundry basket. This used to drive me insane as they were not ‘in’ the basket, but merely hanging off it until next needed. Thus he created a ‘worn but not in need of cleaning’ laundry tree which was a permanently ugly feature of our bedroom. Now he has the basket. This means clothes that have been worn but are not in need of cleaning can now go here. I have mentioned that the room is not big – his wardrobe must be a whole 3 metres away from the basket and yet psychologically somewhere in his head it make more sense to have a pile of worn clothes to hand. And so the pile of mounting clothes, on my side of the bed and in my way is now two-fold and rising.
3 I don’t like ironing. I spent much of my latter teenage years earning money through ironing snd now I avoid it. I ensure that I hang out the washing in such a way that minimal ironing – if any at all – is required once the clothes are dry. I pride myself on what is ultimately a time and energy saving skill. This though all goes to waste when my partner collects in all of the laundry in his own formidable style – any old order, into a pile of jumble and leaves it in the sodding basket. I have asked specifically that he does not do this and yet my T shirts which just need hanging up, end up screwed up like a ball of discarded paper.
4 it is like the black hole. Items go missing for days at a time only to later turn up smothered by a ball of shirts nestled in the bottom of The Basket. It almost conspires against me, giving shelter to the only possible top you want to wear at a crucial moment. It is a clothes mountain which you must wade through in the slight possibility that somewhere in the depths is the missing item you need. And of course when you do find it, it needs ironing. In fact not just ironing as the ‘folding’ technique which has been employed has given way to such special creases that only industrial steam cleaning will get them out. When there is a fresh batch of clothes in there you have to be quick at getting yours out – you need to intercept the process downstairs if possible and avoid where you can contact between your own clothes and this fiend
5 I didn’t buy it. Most of the practical things – dirty linen basket, maiden, ironing board, loo brush are acquired by me. I didn’t buy this monstrosity because quite simply we don’t need it. Having said that it is often the case that I buy things we don’t need – eg strawberry slicer – but these things do not physically get in the way nor do they harbour your favourite pair of jeans for three weeks whilst an accumulation of worn but not dirty clothes grows on top. This reason number 5 is double edged – as I didn’t buy it, my partner did. This makes it near impossible to get rid of without agreement. He thinks we need it. For clean clothes. The ones that could be in the wardrobes.
8 the towels – they need a whole separate blog of their own.
It is worth noting that things came to a head this week after a night of very little sleep. I admitted to my partner that one of the biggest issues in my life was the “fucking basket stressing me out” (whispered viciously whilst rocking almost sleeping baby). It has been moved. Finally.
It is also worth noting that without Gareth’s culinary skills and kitchen talents, I would starve. It’s the little things.
Part two – the towels – is available now at –
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