Out With It!

Throughout Jeff and I's 12 years of marriage, three children, and only four moves with the military, we have accumulated a lot of "stuff." We are far from the show "Hoarders." But, we are pretty bad. I am constantly drowning in laundry. Constantly. It is NEVER, EVER, EVER, done.
We have comforters, sheets, and towels that are in new to poor shape. I keep them around because I'll never know when we'll need a rag for washing the car, or extra bedding, or whatever. Somehow, I always find every single towel, comforter, and sheet in the laundry room. Whether they are dirty or not, someone puts them in the dirty clothes.


We have clothes out the wazoo. And it's not just your normal three kids amount of clothing. I have clothes for each kid that they've 1. Just grown out of, 2. About to grow into, 3. Will grow into one day, 4. Saving for special occassion, 5. Looked super cute in as an infant, and finally 6. Currently fit them. And, the boys, for some odd reason, tend to bring down every single ounce of clothing they own, whether it fits them or not, whether they've worn it or not. Quite, frankly, I'm sick of it all.


I'm sick of the mountains of laundry. I look at it, daily, and get so frustrated that there's ALWAYS so much laundry. It really wears me down. It wears me out. It makes me angry. I spend way too much time and energy on something as simple as laundry. It's got to stop.


So here is my plan:


1. I'm throwing out all of the children's bedding. ALL OF IT. Gone. In the trash. Rubish. It's outta here.


2. I'm buying each child one comforter and two sets of sheets. So even if two of the three kids has dirty bedding, that's only 3 loads of laundry max.


3. I'm throwing out all of Jeff and I's bedding but two comforters and two sets of sheets. That's all we should need, right?


4. I'm going through the kids clothes and making them try on every.single.piece.of.clothing. Everything. If it doesn't fit...RIGHTNOW...it's getting thrown out. If it has a hole in the knees - it's getting thrown away. If it has a stain...you get the point. I'm done saving clothes for play, what if, and maybe we'll need.


 5. I'm throwing away every single towel that has a stain, rip, or tiny tear. Mom got us new towels and we bought new towels last year. Everything that isn't in those two categories is getting thrown away (or at least donated to the local animal shelter).


6. If Jeff and I's clothes don't fit, right this second, it's going in the trash. I won't fit in the skirts I wore in high school. I'll never wear that little black dress again. The size ten jeans I wore straight out of bootcamp is never going to find their way past my 33 year old thighs again. And sorry Jeff, that pair of green cords with the holey crotch has got to go. The shirt we have five duplicates that have the sleeves cut out, Honey, they are all gone. You don't wear them. They look tacky. No one wants to see your armpit hair anyway.


And though this seems like a no-brainer to some. Let me explain. We have three children and are a military family. Children, grow like weeds. The clothes I bought my son, Jonas, no more than three months ago, no longer fit. It is expensive to clothe children these days. It is expensive to clothe children during any era. We probably do save a pretty penny by saving clothing from one sibling to the next, accepting hand-me-downs from friends and family (which I deeply appreciate).  I go through clothes, and sort them out. I place them in bins and trash bags and put them up. But somehow, someway, everything finds their way to the laundry room. And I'm simply just done.


I want to spend my time with my family making happy memories. I don't want to spend it fighting with the boys over what is dirty and what is not, what doesn't fit, what doesn't, and why their bringing every piece of clothing they own down to be washed. I want neat closets. No, I need, neat closets. I need this never-ending laundry to be DONE.