Some days it feels like this could be my tagline.
I love a good shower. Along with about 6,000 cups of coffee, I need that morning shower to wake me up and magically transform me from zombie mama into a clean human person who does not smell like sour milk.
But everything is a choice. And like pretty much everything else about being a parent, the needs of the littles outweigh the needs of the bigs. While I take a shower, Monkey can sit happily in his bouncy chair in the bathroom, but Bean is not so easily contained. When I’m home on my own with the kidlets, a shower usually involves plunking Bean down on the couch to zone out with a show, which is something we’re trying to limit.
And when I’m working within Monkey’s narrow between-nap windows, I often have to choose between showering and getting out of the house. By the time the bag is packed, diapers are changed and the boys are fed and dressed (and diapers changed again — see below), there’s no time for me to shower. (And now a quick shout-out to dry shampoo. Also hats.)
That’s the shower part of the tagline; now for the laundry. How is it possible for two small people to dirty so much clothing?
Let’s talk poop. Babies are awesome. They are also super gross. There were a couple of months in Monkey’s digestive history during which we could not leave the house without three changes of clothes, two plastic bags and all the baby wipes. He was the blow-out king, and his timing was impeccable. The Event would typically occur just as I was pulling the car out of the driveway, or en route to our destination. I was afraid to leave the house in the morning until The Event had occurred. I began strapping him into his car seat even if we had nowhere to go and saying loudly, “Okay, time to go on a very important and time-sensitive errand! I hope nothing happens to prevent us from leaving the house in a timely manner!” This often worked. I’ll never be sure if it was something about his position in the car seat that encouraged The Event, or if Monkey just had it out for me. Either way, the car seat and most of Monkey’s clothing have seen their share of disgusting messes, hence the increase in household laundry. (Side note – cuteness of outfit and difficulty of pulling it over baby’s head both greatly increase the likeliness that the outfit will be pooped in. This is scientific fact.) Monkey has recently started solid foods too, so short of feeding him naked and then hosing him off, there’s no way to avoid a massive amount of laundry.
Like babies, toddlers are also awesome. However, they are not known for being tidy. Is that a pile of dirt over there? I’m going to jump in it and maybe roll around a bit. Do I have jam on my hands? My entire head is itchy, so I will now scratch it! Tissue? Why would I need that when I have a perfectly good sleeve? Finger paint, great! It goes all the way up my arm, right? Wear a bib to eat yogurt? You must be kidding.
In addition to being messy, toddlers can also be… let’s call it particular. As in, I will wear my backhoe t-shirt today and it if happens to be in the laundry then I will turn into a Hulk-style rage monster, which will be followed by an Oscar-worthy performance involving sobbing, real tears, and the greatest tragedy the world has ever seen. In short, that backhoe t-shirt had better be clean.
To sum it all up, toddler = mess. Baby = mess. Toddler + baby = no alone time for mama. And there you have it: twice the laundry, half the showers.