I Stopped Doing My Husband’s Laundry and it Made Me a Happier Wife

I am likely in the minority of stay-at-home-moms who do not do their husband’s laundry. This is not something I’m proud of sharing. It feels like in not doing it, I’m not up-to-snuff with modern-day “wifing” in a lot of ways. However, I needed to stop doing it to protect my sanity and save my marriage.

Let me explain…

We have a pretty nice split of responsibilities. I do the deep cleaning. He does the majority of the cooking. I manage our finances. He handles the technical maintenance. We both equally share the task of raising our little ones. 

I feel like this kind of balance is a rarity and I know I am lucky in that regard. But I no longer touch his laundry.

At the beginning of our marriage and through having our first baby, I handled all of the family’s laundry, despite it being one of my least favorite chores in the world. 

Scrubbing toilets? No problem. Vacuuming and mopping? It’s on!

A heaping basket of laundry to fold, though? Heck no.

laundry basket

The very thought of laundry makes me shudder. It was rough when I was single and has grown increasingly tough with three other people joining me. Despite my displeasure with the chore, I have a system for sheets, towels, and the laundry of my little ones and myself. A pep-talk gets me through folding and putting it away, despite how much I loathe it. What happens with my husband’s laundry once it hits the folded stage though is out of my control.

Pre-COVID, he worked outside of the home every day. He changed into comfy clothes when he got home each day. Plus, he likes to work out.

My own routine entails day three stretchy pants and the occasional top change. 

I felt like I was constantly washing, folding, hanging, gathering, and repeating. The bulk of the laundry piles felt like his with a few things of mine and the girls mixed in. I would organize, fold, and pile neatly by garment type for him to easily put away.

Unfortunately, the putting away didn’t happen on my timeline. Not in a day. Not in a week. Not in a few weeks, at times.

woman folding laundry

One day, at six months pregnant and with a 14-month-old in full discovery mode, I took inventory around the house. His laundry was piled in six rooms and I knew that some of it had been there for weeks. I couldn’t make sense of what was clean or dirty. And the hardest part was that none of it was my daughter’s or mine.

Feeling overwhelmed, emotional, incapable, and really tired, I cried. I cried hard. I had a laundry-induced meltdown. 

So what did I do?

I piled all of it on our bed. I looked at the laundry mountain and through tears, told him I needed to be relieved of his laundry duties during the last trimester of pregnancy and the “fourth trimester” after the arrival of our second child. And possibly beyond…

This took him by surprise, as he felt attacked and unappreciated. At first, he offered to do towels. To do sheets. To do it together. The Type A part of my brain couldn’t handle this, though. I needed him to do his own. I had my system for the rest, no matter how much I disliked it. 

Was his not putting away laundry meant to be disrespectful to me? Or our marriage? Absolutely not. It just wasn’t a priority for him. To me, the arduous process of folding, which was my least favorite chore in the world, my hard work, my time away from our daughter, sat there unappreciated and was a slap in the face every time I walked by.

folded clothes in arm

It’s been nine months since I last touched his laundry. I am happier. Though it sits around, I no longer feel responsible for it. When it’s in my way, it gets gently placed in his closet. He happens to be amazing at folding due to some past experience in retail, too. Best of all, he doesn’t mind folding laundry. He turns on some jams and goes about it as most humans would probably do. Just not me. 

What was causing me so much stress is now not something have to fret about. It’s not something I get angry or resentful with him about anymore. Though I will not advertise my new “laundry normal” to family or friends out of fear of judgment, it has strengthened our marriage and made me a happier mom and wife. 

What is the “laundry” trigger in your relationship? How have you navigated it?

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