To Launder or not to Launder...

I am sitting in my basement right now completely ignoring the immense pile of clothes I have to fold. There is this quiet nagging voice in my head (it's been there since about the time I had my first child) that keeps telling me to go into the other room and fold the laundry (by the way, it is also telling me to get dinner going, pick up the living room, empty the dishwasher and take out the trash). I was never a slob growing up, but I never really though about housekeeping the way some of my other girlfriends did in college. Maybe it was because I always had my nose in a book, or I was thinking about a poem I was working on, I don't know. But, somewhere between here and there I developed this voice in my head. The one that won't let me go to bed without picking up the kitchen, getting the coffee ready and starting the dishwasher. I remember consciously watching my mother go through her evening thousand thinking that will never be me. It's strange how things change. I guess out of a sense of necessity. If I don't turn on the dishwasher, Maxi won't have any clean bottles in the morning. And if I don't get the coffee ready in advance, I'll have to try and fumbled through making it in the morning. When, given the sleep deprivation I've experienced lately due to sick kids, who knows what could happen. But, in the end, during brief periods of the day, I have control of the voice. Yes, I could be folding laundry now. But, it feels so nice not to!