Some things just wouldn't happen to another person. My lack of planning in a life with two large dogs, a kinetic toddler, and a busy husband combines to create some unique situations.
Fervently searching through the laundry basket for a matching pair of socks as the clock ticks closer and closer to tardy, only to step in puddle of something in the hallway with the two black but different cut socks that were finally found. Lesson I refuse to learn: Put the laundry away.
Patiently trying to rush the visit to the post office while the curious toddler plays on the stairs and then touches everything possible, only to find, when she eventually asks for the keys in helpful anticipation, that they were forgotten at home. Lesson I refuse to learn: Check for keys before embarking on a post office adventure.
Responsibly preparing lunch and washing little hands and struggling to get a busy little girl to agree to come to the table, only to discover that the high chair tray is not quite usable as it is still covered with the explosion that was intended to be breakfast. Lesson I refuse to learn: Promptly clean up what will frequently be needed.
Consistenly being sure to clean up the beloved toys when going to bed or leaving the house, in order to avoid another tragedy like the cherished monkey back pack being devoured, but finding the dog decided to eat (or attempt to eat) another random item, like cans in the recycling bin or a bible that was sitting on the couch. Lesson I refuse to learn: Anything can be used to tame a large dog's boredom.
Comfortably sleeping in freshly changed bedding without taking the time to launder the removed set and becoming victim to a leaky diaper in the middle of the night and no clean sheets. Lesson I fail to learn: From bed to washer (or buy more sheets).
Watching the joy of learning expressed in a child's face while ignoring inner warnings of safety of said discovery item, until something ends up broken in sharp shards all over the floor. Lesson I fail to learn: Listen to the voice in my head that says to get the breakable away from the miniature analyst.
And what will tomorrow bring? A generous poop just as we load in the car? A scramble to remember everything while forgetting the obvious, like my purse? The desire to get everyone else ready resulting in the realization that I didn't eat or I didn't brush my teeth? Blindly driving past my destination in a zomby state in the truck?
Hopefully none of the above. Instead, maybe surprise kisses and unsolicited hugs. Finding what I need and remembering all my tasks. Having clean laundry and an empty laundry basket.
Don't push it. The laundry will get done when it gets done. If ever.