Real Life: Wading Through Laundry and Lying To Your Kids

We haven’t spent a weekend at home in four weeks. Between camping trips, a trip to Canmore and day trips with a quick overnight in there, it’s been exhausting - it’s also been a trainwreck for our house - because the weekend is when Jamie usually takes the kids out of the house for a few house and I will get that kind of semi-deep clean so our house is presentable and not disgusting, done. It’s also the time when we do laundry, well, put away all the laundry that I’ve left in the laundry room washed during the week.

Yesterday, in a hurry to get outside and get tubing after spending a morning filled with down time (and not doing laundry) I couldn’t find my only swimsuit that still worked, at 6 months+ pregnant, so I tore apart the laundry basket in the closet, the laundry room (and ultimately found it in a swimming bag in the car, where not only were Jamie’s and my swimsuit still wet, but I couldn’t even tell you the last time that we used them - disgusting).

And we left, because some things are more important than laundry.

Like dragging your husband on an adventure to a river side that is maybe close to Spruce Grove? Oh, just another thirty km past, no big deal - arriving down a dead end road (Thank you Google Maps) and missing the turn a second time - adding another ten minutes (and an hour of holy-crap-you-better-make-this-up-to-me to your husband.)

On the way home, there was no spectacular dinner. Pasta Pantry was closed and I didn’t feel like sitting with the kids in a restaurant like JOEY Sherwood even though I was craving a delicious salad. It was late, we weren’t cooking, Violet wanted watermelon so the obvious solution was to stop at Save on Foods and grab something to eat from the already made food. Violet grabbed a package of corndogs, Olivia grabbed perogies, I grabbed some lemon chicken, the watermelon and a package of those garlic stick things to cook in the oven. Canada Day, later in the evening - that’s pretty much what you’re left with - corndogs though? I don’t think the kids have had them before, so that was a win.

Getting home later on in the evening, we had naked kids searching for clean underwear to go outside and play with the giant sparklers to celebrate Canada Day because the fireworks were cancelled you just tell your kids that because you don’t want to go to the fireworks and have giant sparklers instead, the kids waded for the second time that day, through a giant pile of laundry in the foyer.

One kid found underwear, one kid did not. Naked kids in the backyard playing with giant sparklers. Don’t burn your lady-parts, dude, that would be awkward - I warned them.

A few minutes later, I was reminded that the oven needs a new element thing, and isn’t working. It was nine thirty, and I hadn’t thought of it in a couple of weeks because really, I haven’t been cooking unless it’s on the BBQ at home. Thank goodness for neighbours that ask no questions, when your half-naked kids show up on their step with a baking sheet and a box of breadsticks.

Texting with a friend that night, we talked about how incredibly amazing all the Mormon mom bloggers are, with their perfectly coordinated kids outfits, the non-naked kids, and children that probably didn’t walk downstairs stating that they ‘love this massager‘ OMG.

Seriously though, I browsed through those feeds late at night, tonight with two kids, dirty with adventure from the day laying in my bed (hoping that I don’t get peed on by the smallest one) and they are perfectly crafted, from the food to the coordinated to the kids, to the fabulous clothes, to the decor, to the perfect homes - I know it’s curated for instagram - but texting, my friend spoke of how it was excpected in real life, too - and just how horrible that pressure would be. My summer (lackthereof) homemaking skills during the summer would get me kicked out of that club real fast and the incredible amount of pressure to portray that perfection, on instagram, and real life - would be horrible, wouldn’t it?

The house was still a disaster. The laundry was still all over the entryway. The kids were dirty from the day, and they fell asleep in our bed, dirtying our sheets and arms wrapped around each other - filled up with late-night corndogs, just in time for them to not hear the fireworks that were going off on the other side of town.

We could do the laundry tomorrow - because I cleaned the toilets and didn’t let the kids drown in the river today. After all, it’s all about balance, right?