I Just Want You to Know_ Letters to My Kids on Love, Faith, and Family - Kate Gosselin [7]
We put up huge open shelving along an entire wall in the basement. I took pictures of what belonged in each basket and hung photos on the front of the containers, so everyone knew what belonged where and could help…or so I hoped.
With eight young kids, we generated more laundry than you can imagine, so we needed to install our own Laundromat of sorts. The original laundry room had a closet with accordion doors. We removed them, put up shelving and racks for drying clothes, and installed a utility sink. Most important, we had two sets of washers and dryers. When the front loading washers were first installed, they provided hours of entertainment. The kids watched in amazement as their clothes spun around and around.
Because the room led to the back deck, we also used it as a mudroom. When the kids got dirty playing outside, we could bring them into the laundry room to remove their muddy clothes, clean them up in the sink, and send them upstairs to take a bath. I could easily sweep the sticks, mud, leaves, garbage, and whatever else they tracked in, right back outside. (Yes, I did allow them to play in the mud.)
All-day entertainment! The little kids watch as their clothing is washed in our new washing machines.
Stair lessons. Basement organization. Our own Laundromat. Moving in, we made this house work for us. And though it was a simple time, it was very fulfilling for us. We were busy, but because we stuck to our schedules, Jon and I worked well together as a team. With eight kids, we had to learn what worked best for us, but we were handling everything together.
During the first year of the little kids’ lives, before we moved to Elizabethtown, many volunteers helped us. But now Jon and I were settling into doing most everything ourselves. Nana Janet continued to show up faithfully every week to play with the kids and to do our ironing. Miss Beverly also came weekly to fold our laundry. Other family members and friends stopped by, and I took any assistance I could get. While I appreciated getting a few things done without interruption, the kids always enjoyed seeing someone different. But for the most part, we were independent.
Routine is what made our independence possible. Every day was pretty much the same. We did everything over and over again. The only variations in the schedule were what I was making for dinner and what phone calls I had to make—unless somebody got sick and threw a monkey wrench into the day. This routine, logistically speaking, meant I never sat down unless I was folding laundry or sleeping.
That first year in the Elizabethtown house with our young family holds some of my best memories. At that time, life seemed challenging, stressful, and exhausting; but looking back, it was manageable and satisfying to know we could do it all by ourselves.
Our daily routine would start around seven or seven-thirty in the morning. I would head upstairs to get the little kids who were waiting in their rooms for me to change their diapers and dress them. I’d hang a grocery bag on the knob of the dresser and fill it to the top with their diapers.
One day as I was changing Alexis, I looked into her beautiful brown eyes.
“I kinky [stinky].”
“Yes, Sassy, you sure are.”
Playing in the nursery. Note: Even an alcove was used for a crib!
I finished changing her and moved on to Joel. After everyone had a clean diaper, which took about half an hour, I threw the bag down the stairs. Hannah bumped down and then took the bag to the kitchen, declaring, “My diapies.”
I followed her, opening the kitchen door. “Hurry.”
“Fies [flies],” she said as she hurled the bag into the garage, kicking the bag as was often necessary. We slapped five. “Thanks, Hanni.”
I used to tell her to hurry when throwing the trash out since there were flies that would come in, and so this interaction just became part of our schedule every day.
Leah tried to get in on this ritual,