The Virtue Of Hard Work

As an almost delivered (I’m being hopeful here) pregnant woman, I have been less than energetic the past few days. But the natives were beginning to take advantage of that fact and the house was becoming just a wee bit untidy.

This weekend, we went into cleaning mode. Saturdays around here always involve cleaning of some form or another – Alexander is a bit driven. But this weekend, I too was on a mission. And for the most part that mission was successful. Or so I thought…

… Until I came downstairs this morning and discovered Dylan wearing just a shirt and a diaper. No shorts. I looked at Alexander. He gave me no indication that Dylan was not totally dressed for the day. Mental note: We must be running low on clothes.

So after getting everyone fed, I tackled laundry. And I do mean tackled. When the loads were as big as I saw today, laundry does indeed become a contact sport. But, despite all the work, after getting the loads done I felt really good. Not an “I’m not pregnant anymore” good. But an “I just accomplished something and that makes me feel good” good.

I was reminded of a quote I heard back in April:

“Forget yourself and go to work.”

Although laundry (and other housework) was not what the speaker intended work to mean in that particular statement, I think it applies here. It was certainly true for me today. For a little while I forgot that I was 37 weeks pregnant and that my (insert body part here) hurt and that the kids were making a mess and screaming like banshees (they do that for fun). For a few hours, I was simply doing the laundry. I was getting something done. And I was feeling good. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tackle the darks.

That is if I can walk after hauling the four loads I did today up and down the stairs.