I love seeing all of my non-parent friends posting their various Sunday shenanigans. It’s a bittersweet reminder that I am no longer a free to do as I please young adult anymore. I don’t even remember really taking part in the “Sunday Funday” phenomenon anyway so it’s okay.
A typical Sunday at our house goes like this: Wake up, make coffee, drink coffee, read PostSecret, enjoy whatever quiet time I get before the mini monster rises from her slumber.
And then the real fun begins. Prep for the week ahead.
In the almost 4 years Katelyn has been present I constantly shake my head at the laundry piles around the house. How do 3 people (and one of those being a not so big person) have so.much. laundry?
I mean, seriously.
I try to do a load in the middle of the week to cut down on the weekend madness but that generally hasn’t happened lately because everything has been so hectic. And heavy. I normally start on Saturday morning to try and get through it. Yesterday I decided to say no thank you to laundry and today I’m paying the price.
5 loads down, 2 to go. Though I suspect I may have more if I look closely.
I try to look at it with the whole glass half full perspective. At least we’re lucky to have so many nice things to wash. That only gets me so far! So I will hang and fold my afternoon away.
I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach this morning because of events that will happen tomorrow and I can at least be grateful the laundry is keeping my mind off of that.
So, Katelyn and I will dance around the living room amid piles of towels, shirts, shorts, and socks that lost their mate long ago. Sunday could be a lot worse.