But here’s the thing: maybe the never-ending nature of laundry isn’t something we’re meant to conquer. Maybe it’s something we need to accept, laugh about, and learn to manage without losing our sanity.
The Myth of “Catching Up”
I don’t know who started the idea that moms should be able to “catch up” on laundry, but I’d like to have a word with them. Laundry is like weeds in the garden: you can think you’ve cleared it out, but the second you blink, it’s back. Catching up is a myth because clothes are constantly being worn. Unless your entire family plans to live in togas or go nudist for a week, there will always be something waiting for the washer.
So let’s banish the phrase “caught up on laundry” from our vocabulary. Instead, let’s reframe it as “managing the flow.”
The Phases of Laundry Madness
Every mom knows the stages. They go something like this:
- Denial – “It’s not that bad. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
- Overwhelm – “How did the hamper get this full overnight? Do these kids secretly change clothes every hour?”
- The Attack – A marathon session of washing and folding while muttering under your breath about how nobody appreciates your work.
- The Illusion of Victory – For about 12 hours, every drawer is full, and the laundry room is empty. You feel like a domestic goddess.
- Defeat – Someone spills juice, the baby spits up, and suddenly you’re staring at a new pile. Back to square one.
And repeat. Forever.
Why It Feels So Personal
Laundry isn’t just a chore—it’s symbolic. Every sock in the hamper feels like proof that someone needs you. Every unfolded basket feels like proof that you’re behind. Moms, especially, get hit with guilt here because society has this unspoken standard that a “together” household looks neat, clean, and folded.
But here’s the truth: your worth is not measured in neatly folded t-shirts. The state of your laundry room says nothing about the kind of mother you are. Kids won’t remember whether their socks were paired. They’ll remember whether you had time to read them a story or watch a movie with them.
Mom Hacks That Help (Sort Of)
Even though laundry never ends, there are ways to make it less soul-sucking. Over the years, I’ve collected some hacks that have saved both my time and my sanity:
- One load a day. Instead of waiting until the weekend and drowning in Mount Washmore, just do one load each day. Wash, dry, fold, and (here’s the kicker) put it away. It’s less overwhelming than five loads at once.
- Color-coded baskets. Each kid gets their own laundry basket in a different color. When it’s clean, I don’t sort it—I just toss the pile into their basket. Sorting is their problem now.
- Mesh bags for socks. Every kid (and adult, if they’re prone to sock gremlins) gets a mesh bag for socks. They keep dirty socks inside, throw it in the wash, and voilà—no more sock monsters stealing pairs.
- Stop folding everything. This is controversial, but hear me out. Pajamas? Nope. Play clothes? Nope. If it doesn’t wrinkle or if your kids are just going to roll on the floor in it, skip folding. Just stuff it in the drawer and move on.
- Embrace the “laundry chair.” Everyone has one. That chair in the bedroom that becomes the unofficial laundry pile? Stop fighting it. Call it “the staging area” and pretend it’s intentional.
When Kids (and Partners) Help… or Don’t
Now, let’s talk about “help.” If you’re lucky, your partner or kids pitch in. If you’re like most moms, though, their version of “help” means dumping clean clothes in a heap on the couch or folding shirts in a way that makes them look like origami gone wrong.
Here’s the thing: let it go. Unless you’re secretly running a retail clothing store, it doesn’t matter how things are folded. Let kids and partners do their version, and remind yourself it’s one less thing on your plate. Perfection is overrated anyway.
Reframing Laundry as Love
Here’s a softer truth: laundry is annoying, yes, but it’s also a love language. Every time you wash grass-stained pants, you’re cleaning evidence of your child’s backyard adventure. Every time you bleach the spaghetti off a shirt, you’re saying, “I’ve got you.”
Laundry is the silent way moms keep their households functioning. It’s invisible work, but it’s also a reminder of the life happening around you.
The Real Acceptance
So, how do we accept the eternal laundry cycle? By shifting perspective. Instead of treating laundry like a monster to slay, see it as background noise. Just another rhythm of family life, like the hum of the fridge or the sound of kids bickering over the TV remote.
The pile may never go away, but neither does the love behind it.
A Final Word (and a Confession)
Confession time: as I write this, I have three baskets of clean laundry sitting in the corner of my room. Have I folded them? Nope. Do I feel bad about it? Also nope. Because I know the truth now: laundry never ends.
So to all the moms out there staring down their own endless piles, take a deep breath. Laugh about it. Shrug it off. And if all else fails, throw a clean shirt in the dryer for five minutes and pretend you meant to fold it.
