You Lost My Shirt!

By Kimberly Hicken

“Mom! You lost my shirt!” “Mom! Where are my favorite pants?” “Mom! Why didn’t you wash my shorts? I need them today!” “Mom, I don’t have any clean socks!”

These used to be common statements around our house. With eight children, there was always a lot of laundry. It was a never-ending job, and no matter how many loads I washed throughout the week, I always felt like I was drowning in laundry.

My kids didn’t even appreciate my efforts to keep them in clean clothes. They were constantly complaining that I had lost their shirt or that their lucky socks weren’t clean. To make matters worse, sometimes I would go into their bedrooms to gather laundry and I would find shirts and pants, still neatly folded, mixed in with their dirty laundry. They hadn’t even bothered to put the clean stuff away!

I tried lots of solutions: begging, pleading, crying, threatening. Okay, I did try that, but I tried some real solutions also. Nothing seemed to work. While I was getting lost in the laundry, they were complaining that I hadn’t done the job correctly. What was I to do?

I felt like this would be my life for the next several years until one day the answer came in the form of a goal presented to my two oldest sons by the leader of the youth group they belonged to. The group was focusing on skills to help the boys when they moved out of the house. One of the goals they had to accomplish was doing their own laundry for a month.

Own laundry? A month? It was like a lightbulb going off in my head. Why only a month? Why only the two oldest boys? Why not the other kids? Was this possible? Would it work?

I sat my oldest children down for a family meeting. Everyone who was ten or older was part of the new strategy. I explained to them that with eight kids and two adults, I couldn’t keep up with the laundry anymore. Then I told them the good/bad news. I would no longer do their laundry for them.

I was met with a shocked silence. Then chaos broke out. To quote the Bible, there was a weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. I waited patiently as they voiced their complaints. When they were finished, I explained again to them that it was just too much for me. I told them that I would continue to wash the towels and sheets for them. I also assured them that they would not die if they had to do their own laundry, and it might even help prepare them for when they became adults. They didn’t care about being prepared, and they were pretty sure I had sentenced them to death, but my decision still stood.

I taught them how to sort the laundry. I explained that if they washed something red with something white, they would have something pink. If they ended up with weird colored clothing, it wasn’t my problem, and I wouldn’t be able to replace it because money was tight. My third son either missed this lesson or didn’t believe me. He spent his freshman year wearing a pink practice jersey to football. Apparently, he didn’t mind the good-natured teasing he got from his coach and teammates because he never complained to me about it.

I taught them how to run the washer and dryer. I showed them how much laundry soap to use and extolled the benefits of dryer sheets. I encouraged them to take their clothing out of the dryer as soon as it was finished so that their clothes wouldn’t be wrinkled, but I also pointed out the iron and ironing board in case they didn’t listen. (Yep! This lesson also included ironing. I’m a tough mom, an all or nothing kind of mom.)

Finally, I recognized that we needed some sort of schedule so that we weren’t all fighting over the washer. I wrote the days of the week down and told them that everyone would be assigned a laundry day. If they missed their laundry day, they would have to wait until the following week unless they could convince a sibling to let them share laundry days. Because I had the most laundry to do, I took Saturday. The kids whined a little about this, but I pointed out that I was still washing the younger children’s clothes and I had the towels and sheets. I offered to let them have some of my work, but there weren’t any takers, and they stopped complaining so loudly. Sunday was not an option for anyone. I kept it free in case of an emergency or in case I just couldn’t get everything done on Saturday.

After that, I let each child choose his/her laundry day. The oldest child got first pick because the ones in high school tend to be the busiest with homework, friends, and extracurricular activities. Because of this, I went oldest to youngest. The schedule was written down and was non-negotiable for the first month. At the end of the first month, I asked if anyone needed to change days. Again, we started oldest to youngest. My oldest daughter had originally chosen Wednesday, and wanted to trade with someone. Her youth group met on Wednesdays, and she hadn’t taken that into consideration. Her younger brother was happy to trade. His scout group met on Tuesdays; something he had also forgotten when he chose his day. We did not redo the schedule again until the beginning of the next school year.

I would remind kids when it was their laundry day, but that was the extent of my help with the laundry. We did get a few ruined clothes, but the kids learned quickly how to wash and dry things correctly. They learned that it’s easier to take things out of the dryer immediately than it is to have to iron a shirt. They learned the importance of planning ahead; otherwise, they might have to wear dirty clothes to school the next day.

For me, it was a complete relief. I now felt like I was on top of the laundry. I didn’t even have to try to match socks anymore! I haven’t heard my kids complain about not having something clean to wear for years! Literally. This is probably the most liberating thing I ever did as a parent. The best part came several years later when my oldest son went off to college. He came home to visit and said he couldn’t believe the number of college kids who didn’t know how to do their own laundry. What started out as a lifesaving strategy for me turned out to be a necessary skill for him. I’ve made many mistakes as a parent, but having my kids do their own laundry wasn’t one of them!