Celebrate laundry? Really? Have I completely lost it? (don't answer that.)
As I look at my day ahead, it is full. Lots to do at work, meeting a friend, rush home to cook dinner, help Pickle get caught up on homework..and then I saw it. Mt. Washmore. I mentioned it yesterday. Never was home long enough to make a dent in it yesterday. I hate when I let it pile up. Ugh. And now, when will I get to it today? I can get my normal load in, but not sure I can do more than that. That overwhelmed feeling starts to set in...cause the laundry is staring at me, telling me that it represents all the things I am behind in. I think it's mocking me.
And then I realize I have a choice. Not whether I do the laundry or not (darn). I have a choice in the way I think about it. I can choose to get down on myself for letting it pile up. I can get frustrated that I don't manage my time well enough to keep up with my housework all the time.
I can choose to be thankful for the laundry. Or at least be thankful people who have dirtied that pile of stink. I could have hardly any laundry if I didn't have a family. Each sock, each t-shirt, belongs to someone I love and get to care for. I can be thankful that my getting-old-too-fast body is physically able to bend and carry and fold. I can even be thankful for the full life I lead that keeps me from staying on top of it sometimes.
The alternatives to not having piles of laundry--I don't want to think about them.
I'm choosing to be thankful today for my laundry. And my family. And my health.
...and my washing machine!