When I was a newly minted college graduate I headed off to my first post-grad job, and first apartment. I traveled from the cold of Northern Illinois to the plains of Texas…the Dallas area, to be specific. I was very fortunate to find an awesome apartment complex after just two days of searching.

I talked to the really nice folks at the rental office and toured the apartments. I was in Heaven. Big, brand new, apartments. Two pools on the property. Exercise facility. Covered parking. Pretty much everything on my wish list. And most importantly…a spot for a washer and dryer right in the apartment.

Yeah, as a newly minted, 20-something, male, college graduate…all I really cared about was a washer and dryer in my apartment. Oh, and a room for my computer stuff. I’ll write about my computer addiction another time, because today we’re going to delve into my life of laundry.

I rented the apartment on the spot, with move-in scheduled for that afternoon. I called the moving company and told them the address, and they told me they couldn’t deliver the rest of my furniture for another week. I was a bit disappointed, but I figured I could make do for a week. And I had shopping to do. I had a fistful of cash from my college graduation given to me by my extended family.

The the washer/dryer search began. I spent the better part of the day looking at washers & dryers. I was looking at full-sized models because I figured eventually I would have a family, and my Mom’s washer & dryer had lasted for over 30 years. This was a lifetime purchase, and I had to make a good decision. The next day I spent more time shopping and comparing. I had more salesman’s business cards than I knew what to do with. The number of options was killing me, but I finally decided that I was going to make a decision after work on Monday.

I went to my first day of orientation at my new job. I had washers & dryers on my mind, so I talked to anybody who would listen to me about the pros and cons of the various models. I actually found a couple other folks who were also looking for the same appliances and we compared notes. We even shared our experiences with various salespeople.

After work I drove over to my preferred store and went inside to purchase my selected units. Imagine my surprise when I found the two folks I’d been talking to at orientation both also buying units. The sales guy was sufficiently excited that he’d sold three pairs of units that he gave us each an additional discount. I managed to negotiate free delivery. Over the years he sold another five or six sets to people I sent his way. I pretty much considered myself an Appliance and Greek Gyros rainmaker. I guess I had bigger aspirations then…

Two days later, my new pride and joy were delivered to my apartment. A pair of shiny Kenmore appliances that would keep my clothes smelling fresh and clean for the next 20 years, 30 if I treated them right! It’s kind of stupid to think about it, but I was really excited.

So there I was, in my brand new apartment, living out of my suitcases with a sleeping bag for a bed, one pan to cook in, two computers (Apple //e and Macintosh Plus) sitting on top of packing boxes, a folding chair, and my washer & dryer. Yup, I was living the high life!

In those days, laundry was a once a week chore. Maybe even not that often during the winter. During the summer, I would work all day and then get on my bike and ride the trails that led out of Plano. I would ride for a couple hours, then relax in one of the pools at my complex. To say I didn’t generate much laundry would have been accurate. And the washer & dryer handled the infrequent small loads with aplomb.

Just over a year later, my wife and I got married. We moved from Plano to Lewisville, TX…at that time another far off suburb of Dallas. Funny to think that it was considered remote at the time! We had more laundry, but not that much more. My wife was in Medical School, and she wore scrubs during her clinical rotations. Scrubs that were laundered at the med school. Our washer & dryer managed our laundry load with ease. They still acted and sounded new. Laundry was a twice-a-week activity at the time. Not something that really took all that much time, and a chore that we could accomplish in nothing flat.

Quick and easy. Wash, dry, fold, stow. That was the cycle, and that’s all there was to it.

Three years later, our first daughter was born. Our laundry increased. Let’s face it, a newborn goes through clothes. And our oldest daughter drooled all the time. I don’t mean a drib and drab there. I mean a steady stream of spit-related products. Enough to fill buckets. To soak through everything. When we put her on the floor to play, it was always on two comforters–one atop the other–to keep the drool from soaking the carpet. A hug and kiss goodbye often culminated in a change of shirt.

And those wet clothes, sheets, comforters, etc. needed to be washed. And washed quickly. So laundry upped to three, maybe four times a week. A few more loads, but nothing that the Kenmore couple couldn’t handle. The chugged along, washing and drying like the champions that they were.

My wife graduated residency and we relocated to Wichita, KS. For two weeks we lived with her parents while we searched for new housing. The Kenmore’s hung out with all our other household gear in the big shed (think the SuperDome or Wembley Stadium of sheds) behind there house. At the end of two weeks we moved into our new home and the Kenmore’s took up residence in the basement laundry room.

Laundry was up to four, sometimes five days a week, but only one or two loads a day. Mr. & Mrs. Kenmore were happy to do the work, and they never complained about being in the basement. The basement was nicely finished, and I had an office down there, so I visited them often. I don’t think they ever felt neglected, and although they were getting a bit older, the servicemen didn’t have to visit for more than routine maintenance.

Despite the broken water pipe that led to a flood of the basement, the Kenmore’s kept steady. they did their laundry loads and carried on. The birth of our twin daughters increased their load…a lot. But the washer & dryer couple kept pushing on. Laundry was approaching a daily affair, and many days had a couple loads, but they didn’t groan too much. Mrs. Kenmore, handling the dryer duties received some new parts and a new controller card…she was like a brand new lady. Mr. Kenmore just kept keeping on. At that point they were six years old, so they were in the prime of their lives.

Our fourth daughter was born a scant 20 months later. Laundry was daily, with two to three loads a day. We decided it was time to move to a larger house, and found one. The new house had two laundry facilities. One was upstairs where the bedrooms were, and the other was on the main floor. The Kenmore’s moved into the main floor laundry, as we anticipated using that less than the upstairs laundry facilities. Plus, the upstairs washer and dryer would be housed in a closet in the bathroom…and the Kenmore’s were getting a bit old and cranky…making a bit of rumbling as they went about their laundry duties.

About six months later, the Kenmores were joined by the Whirlpools. They were a young couple, brand-spanking new, and equipped with high-efficiency capabilities that vastly outpaced the Kenmores. They were whisper quiet, and had delayed modes, meaning that the now constant process of washing laundry could be started at night, but delayed until the wee hours of the morning to take advantage of lower electricity rates.

But the Kenmores didn’t lack for work. With six in the household we generated enough laundry to keep both couples busy. Visits from the service people were a bit more frequent, but the Kenmores did their work and the Whirlpools did theirs. We did get into the habit of washing and drying clothes and then piling the on the bed in the guest bedroom. It was a queen-sized bed, and most days there were four or five loads awaiting folding. We humans tried to keep up with our mechanical counterparts, but the Kenmores and Whirlpools easily outpaced us. It eventually got to a point where we not only had clean laundry piled up in the guest room downstairs, but it was also collected in the baby’s room…mostly residing in the spare crib that we had.

Four toddlers generated a lot of laundry. So much it’s hard to describe. Suffice to say that laundry was now a 24-hour affair, seven days a week. When family came to visit they regularly asked two questions (1) What’s for dinner and (2) What laundry can I fold? I happily shared my culinary skills with anyone who would fold laundry. It practically became the form of payment in our household.

Stowing laundry was a huge affair, and even though our girls were 6, 4, and 2…they all participated in the hauling and stowing. They worked on folding too, but that was a bit difficult for them.

Our son was born about that time. It never dawned on me that a boy would produce more dirty clothes than a girl as an infant. He had this habit of unhooking his diaper and getting his clothes really soiled. The kind of soiled where you’re holding your nose, running to the washer and turning it up to the hottest setting.

Not long after he was born, the Kenmores retired and they Maytags moved in. They were high-capacity folks, designed to clean the dirtiest clothing out there. I spent months researching which model to get. I would look as spec sheets and laugh. I remember reading “…and can handle all your loads of laundry, up to seven loads a week…”. I showed that quote to my wife and we looked bewildered. What, were these units designed for newbies? People who didn’t have kids? Seven loads…a week? We could go through that in a day! In fact, we’d exceeded that when you consider that we did loads upstairs with the Whirlpool couple and downstairs with the Kenmores pretty much all day. We’d had a day with 14 loads. Admittedly, that was during the Great Stomach Flu epidemic of 1995, but really. Seven loads a week. We needed something that could withstand our usage.

So we went to meet the Maytags. We talked to a factory rep. Then another. Then the factory itself. Then the design team at Maytag. We took this seriously. Laundry was big business already…and baby number six was on the way. This was no time to cut corners. No time to risk getting a washer/dryer couple who wouldn’t work out. We were eventually offered a pre-production model of a new type of Maytag washer/dryer combo. The best part was that we would get to use it for six months, then they would take those units back and replace them with production models.

We jumped at the chance. And true to form, our fifth daughter was born at the beginning of 1996…and our laundry needs increased. In addition to having a new baby, our older girls had started competitive sports. And when they weren’t competing they we’re at swim lessons, or gymnastics, or dance. Delicates had to be washed separately. Towels needed to be industrially washed after spending weekends in swim bags. Soccer clothes started to appear and I swear they could stand on their own. Our big yard lured the children outside…and they dutifully dragged in as much dirt and mud as possible. Most of it plastered to their clothing. We learned that Whirlpool washers of the 1994 vintage didn’t far well when a pocket full of rocks went through. That escapade required a new tub and lots of other innards for Mr. Whirlpool. Then Mrs. Whirlpool took it on the chin (or on the dryer door) when another pair of rock-filled pockets escaped the washer and made it to the dryer.

To say we’re hard on our washers and dryers is an understatement. If you haven’t figured that out yet…you better start over at the beginning.

With the arrival of our second son in 1999, we moved to another new home. This one was much smaller. We downsized because my wife was going into her own Medical Practice, and frankly we needed to save money. The Whirlpools retired to my sister-in-laws house, where they enjoyed a quiet end-of-life with a measly seven or so loads of laundry a week. We had finally discovered somebody who didn’t do much laundry…

But ours was going strong. Two adults in the house, seven kids. Active kids. Really, really active kids. Our new town was much smaller and with that came so many more accessible opportunities. Soccer, swimming, tae-kwon-do, gymnastics, basketball, volleyball, track & field, cross country, and a host of other things were available. And timed such that we could shift from activity to activity without overlap. My driving schedule looked insane. One summer we hired a teenager to help us drive the kids around. By the end of the summer we had two in our employ. For the next couple years we had at least two kids helping us with the driving, and we took advantage of carpool activities.

And the laundry piled up.

Oh the laundry!

With that many kids, or virtually the same size we had to create a system to keep their clothing separate. But clothes had to be washed fairly quickly. Two or three soccer practices during the week per kid led to a couple games per kid on the weekend. I became an expert at washing not only soccer clothing, but all the gear the kids wear to play. Ever smell a pair of shinguards? A load of those killed Mr. Maytag. I think he died of the smell. Or maybe it was the fact that the velcro straps strangled him. I’m not sure the coronary knew for certain…as the smell in the appliance morgue was so intense.

Laundry became a 24x7x365 day affair. During Leap Year’s we didn’t get to take a day off. We just shifted to 24x7x366. And I’m not joking. This past year, despite our downsized Christmas gathering, we did five loads of laundry on Christmas day.

We still have piles, baskets, and laundry sorters full of clean laundry. The kids have baskets of clean, unstowed laundry in their rooms, not to mention the sorters full of dirty laundry they fail to bring to the laundry room.

Mismatched socks you say? We just threw away and entire basket of them. Not one of those wimpy little laundry baskets, but the kind that you can barely carry because it’s so heavy. And that was after a month of trying to match all the unmatched socks in the house. We’d started with four such baskets, so we felt somewhat vindicated that we were down to one basket. And that was after we donated as many of the almost pairs as we could. And used a bunch for sock snowmen that we also donated to a local nursing home.

So if you’ve gotten this far, you know way too much about the Hectic Household’s laundry. And I’m willing to bet that you’re asking two questions, (1) Why am I still reading and (2) What’s the point he’s trying to make?

Am I right?

OK, you’re still reading because you’re the kind of person who won’t let go. You just know that it’s got to get better. There has to be a point…nearly 3,500 words has to come to a point. I sincerely thank you for not being a quitter. For not quitting on me, because I really do have a point.

You see, laundry in our household is just like our life. We didn’t start off with eight kids. We didn’t start off buried in activities. We didn’t start off with laundry scattered everywhere, in sometimes-neatly, often-disorderly piles…everywhere. We used to be like the people in the laundry detergent commercials with neatly folded towels that smelled Mountain Spring Fresh. We were smiling all the time, on a sunny day, with our two to three loads of laundry a week. We sorted our bright colors from our darks from our whites from our delicates. We never overloaded the washer, because to do that we’d have to wait too long to do our laundry. We were model laundry-arians, setting the example for everybody in the neighborhood.

When our oldest daughter was born, there was a tiny uptick in our laundry, but even with her constant stream of drool, we only had a few more loads. All her onesies were stain-free after washing, her bibs neatly folded, and all her clothes were put away in their proper places. Laundry was washed, dried, folded and stowed. Right away. No delay.

Kiddos two and three came as a pair, so they helped up the ante a bit more…but nothing we couldn’t handle. There were still enough hours in the day to pose for those laundry detergent ads with the fresh-smelling, neatly folded towel stack in hand. You could almost see the photoshopped star on my teeth…

Then four, five, and six kids later. Two sets of washers and dryers working non-stop. Sports clothes piling up. Mold battling to take hold in tightly zippered swimming bags. Soccer gear standing on it’s own. Kids going through clothing like nothing, and kiddos hauling in loads of dirt and the occasional pocketful of rocks. Laundry piling up on the dirty side, only to be outstripped by the washed but unfolded mountains on every flat surface. But still, even in those days, we would get everybody rallied and we would have a folding and stowing bonanza. We would gather around the piles of laundry and fold away. Then the kids would race to see who could put their clothes away the fastest. And we would have inspections to ensure that the clothing was really put away…not just shoved somewhere convenient.

A couple more kids, a couple moves later and I think we may have lost the battle. I’d love to tell you that we’ve turned the corner. That there aren’t piles and baskets and laundry sorters full of clothes in our house. I’d love to say that there is no dirty laundry to wash…either known (in the laundry room) or unknown (mixed in with clean and cleaner clothes in the kids’ rooms). I’d love to say that I could still pose for one of those laundry detergent ads.

But I can’t. Because you see…life keeps moving onwards. Laundry keeps piling up. It’s been a long, slow process…but we’ve got so much laundry that I don’t think we’ll ever totally win this battle. There are times when we come close to having it all washed and dried. But we seem to get further and further behind getting it all stowed. And then more dirty laundry shows up. It’s a never-ending cycle.

We’ve been through two more generations of washers & dryers. We’re using the latest high-capacity units…and the poor service guy might as well have a key to the house, he’s here so often. He’s even on speed-dial on my phone.

And that’s just the way life is, ya’ know. Little by little it creeps up on you. One day your doing a tiny load of laundry every once in a while. Then it’s a bit more. Then a few loads a week. A couple loads a day. Eventually the washer and dryer and running non-stop. And you don’t know how you got there.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’m just noting that life sneaks up on you and you suddenly don’t really know how you got to where you are. How things got this bad or this crazy or this hectic. It just happened while you were going about all the other things you were doing. It’s just the way things are. You can fight it, try to manage it, and put in a herculean effort to get ahead of your laundry, or the other challenges in your life, or you can recognize that sometimes you just ride the storm out. You do what you can, but don’t beat yourself up about it.

Things change, life changes. That’s the way it works. And pretty much, no matter what you do, there will be more laundry tomorrow.

Well, I’ve gotta run…the washer just buzzed. Time to start another load.

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