The little things...

So these are the ladies at Layla House who hand wash the laundry of the entire place. They hang it up at the back of the compound, and all is well unless there is a downpour. When it is nicely dry and stiff, it is brought into the cafeteria and the kids fold it and claim their clothes.
I watched the laundry process with interest for two reasons. The first one is that as the mom of a family of 7, including several children who love to work in the dirt, laundry is a major part of my life. I used to tell people that two of my best friends were my washer and dryer.

The second reason behind my laundry-fascination is that in January my beloved front-loading washer had enough. There was a horrendous grinding, banging, and very loud thumping. It was so loud, that our toddler at the other end of the house started to scream in fear, the walls started to shake, and for just a split second I thought the big earthquake had finally hit (we've been preparing for it in the Northwest since before I was born). When I realized it was the washer, I was pretty sure it might explode. I've never moved that fast inside the house. I turned it off and then watched the cylinder inside grind to a halt. What I didn't know until days later is that the whole drum broke off of whatever is supposed to hold it.

Through a series of very unfortunate events, we lived without a washer for exactly 4 weeks. Our bottom point came when in a single night before 1:00am we had 3 kids wet the bed, and for various unfortunate reasons, no pull-up saved us. I considered having a breakdown that night, but reminded myself that the laundromat was only 2 miles away and opened early. (It was also one of those times when as bleary-eyed Chris and I carried the soaked bedding of #3, we passed each other in the hall, exchanged a sympathetic look, and I smiled to myself at how much I love this man. Through all the years of struggle, surprises, and joy we have experienced together, when things go terribly wrong we still silently pull together and do what needs to be done. I can't imagine sharing my life with anyone better.)

I gave up on dreams of it being fixed quickly after the 2nd week and resigned myself to my new routine at the laundromat. I felt proud and a little martyrish as I ran in between kid trips to all their schools and activities to throw up to 4 loads at a time into the washers. Then I'd swing by an hour later with my plastic bags and collect the wet clothes to take them to my working dryer at home. I surprised myself at the ease with which I transitioned out of my dependence on my washer. I even told Chris that maybe we didn't need one anymore. - This whole deal was working pretty well. But then our washer was finally fixed, and I went back to the convenience of washing AND drying our never-ending loads at home.

So I marveled at the work that goes into the laundry process at Layla. But I didn't appreciate the full extent of their work, because in my month of washer-less days, I forgot one important thing.
The stomach flu.

We just survived a week of the stomach flu at our house. I can honestly say now that our washer is my best friend. Several loads of the kids' bedding had to go through twice, and I had to spray one blanket out in the driveway before I even dared put it in the washer.

This week I have only the highest admiration for the laundry staff at Layla. I pray for strong hands, backs of steel, cheerful perseverance, gloves that never rip, and most of all - mercy when it comes to the stomach flu.