I hate laundry... with a passion. I hate it even more since we moved into the house we live in now over three years ago, because the washer and dryer are in the basement. Meaning I have to brave it down the basement stairs and through the garage to get to the washer and dryer.
Typically it doesn't bother me, but right now I have a basketball under my shirt, and my balance is just slightly off. I feel like every time I waddle down the stairs with a giant basket of laundry I am taking my life into my own hands. Mind you the garage floor is a slab of cement... Not something I want to land on.
The boys laundry has piled up, not to the point where they have nothing to wear, but to the point where I am seriously intimidated by the basket. Just looking at it makes me want to run screaming in the other direction, or hide under my bed.
But alas... I started working on it today and after four loads of laundry, all the trips up and down the stairs, and a huge dent in it... I feel like I am about to drop Little Miss A right out... Of course we all know it isn't going to be that damn easy, but it feels like that!
Oh the joys of being a work at home mom!