Picking My Battles

I'm kind of a head-strong person. Well, not "kind of", I AM a head-strong person. I like things to go my way. I'm very particular about the way certain tasks are completed, especially my laundry. I absolutely cannot stand for someone else to do my (mine or Brent's or the kids') laundry. Certain clothes must be washed on certain cycles and in certain temperatures and not everything is allowed to go in the dryer. For these reasons, my husband does not know how to work the washing machine. Not that he wants to know, anyway. But once the clothes are dry they must be folded a certain way. I have a special way I like t-shirts to be folded. The fold of towels and washcloths must be a certain direction. Jeans are folded back pocket to back pocket and then in half waist-band to cuff and then in half again. It has to be this way or it drives me nuts. (Okay, maybe I'm a little obsessive.) The kids are responsible for putting their clean clothes away once I've folded them. I've taught them how to put things away and they do a pretty good job. I put Brent's clothes away for him because, well, you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

I go to a fair amount of effort to organize Brent's clothes in his drawers and closet. But for some reason things don't stay neat for very long. In the past, I've ignored it until I just couldn't stand it anymore and then I would fix it and the process would begin again. After I revamped our closet a few months ago I figured things would stay neat because everything was so much more accessible. I was wrong. One morning a month or so ago I walked into the closet and found a couple pairs of Brent's pants "folded" haphazardly and placed sloppily atop the pile. There were some shirts and scrub bottoms that also fit into this category. I was so mad. I was fuming and as I went about picking things up I was rehearsing to myself what I was going to say to my husband when he got home that night. I was really going to light into him. Then, for whatever reason, I paused and I had a thought. It was something along the lines of this: Brent goes to work all day. He works hard to support our family and provide creature comforts for us. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on him and be willing to do these minor tasks for him... AND, we've been married for more than 11 years and he hasn't learned yet, so he probably won't and it really isn't worth the fight.

I have to remind myself of those thoughts regularly, almost on a daily basis. This morning while Brent was getting for work I noticed the t-shirt he'd worn to bed last night had been wadded up and stuffed in the drawer and half of it was hanging out. I took the shirt and began to fold it. As I was putting it away Brent noticed what I was doing and said, "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

My response was, "Well, nobody else is going to do it."

I know that in the eternal scheme of things it doesn't matter how my laundry is done or if the closet stays organized; however, as long as I'm human I'm going to be picky. But, it does matter how I respond to situations. I've learned (I'm a slow learner) that its just easier to do some things myself rather than pick a fight. Its nice to be able to just do something and push it out of my mind instead of being mad about it all day long just so I can scold someone in the evening. Its not worth it.