A Place for Everything

Originally uploaded by laundrylessons.

“JP, get a different pair of pants from the laundry room, those have a hole in the knee,” I direct as we headed out the door for church. This was an easy task for him to take care of. The wood-grain Formica countertop in the laundry room holds six piles of clothes. Lined up like rows of sweaters at the Gap, our piles don’t mix and everyone knows where to go to find their stuff. I’d like to say the counter is cleared once everything is folded, but often the piles just sit, turning the laundry room into a dressing room. But I don’t mind the piles; there is order and clean underwear too.

When things are in place I have peace. Last night I woke up to Merritt’s crying in the middle of the night and I felt something was missing. I was like Miss Clavel in the Madeline books – something was not right. Merritt was fine, but in my 3:00 am fog I had to do a mental check to remember what was out of place. Paige, that was it. I remembered that she was at a sleepover. Gone from the house. I don’t worry about my kids at friends’ houses with nice families, but when I wake in the night I always seem go through a checklist of possible disorder – Did the cat come in? Are the doors locked? Is that a new zit on my chin?

Oprah says we should listen to that still, small voice. If it is telling us that something isn’t right, investigate. So I walk not into just Merritt’s room, but peak in the boys’ rooms and finally, I don’t know why, I walk down to Paige’s room. My middle of the night fog finds harmony. But because I checked, I can fall back asleep with ease – after I put on a little zit cream.

Moms have to put things in their piles – notes from teachers, birthday party invitations and sports uniforms – to ensure harmony. Children are a little harder to stack just right. They are messy and bend and break and cry and go on sleepovers. I’ve been trying to let the kids find out their own way to order their lives. It’s hard to give up some of my need to get everything in its place, but I know they have to learn to create their own methods.

JP did grab new pants, without a hole, from his stack in the laundry room. They didn’t match his shirt, he was fine with that.