Good Enough Mother- Just Say No To… Ironing

I’m not a great believer in sticking to decisions made long ago.

Life’s all about change and renewal. Being flexible and willing to adapt feels like a core strength in this topsy turvy world of parenthood in the 21st century.

However I AM sticking with the no-ironing decision when it comes to school shirts.

Call me slack, call me lazy, call me a good enough mum but whatever you do don’t call me a dedicated ironer. It’s just not me, it never was. Even when I was single, in my showbiz showoff days, I had a lady who did. She did ironing and I didn’t.

Moira came twice a week just to look after me and my flat; she did the ironing, she even used to iron my pyjamas. Oh yes indeedy, I know the benefits of having a passionate ironing person around… but it just isn’t me. Sorry hubby, sorry kids.

So nine years ago when my first son was about to start school, we were all very excited about the new school uniform. I was so thrilled that he was actually going to a mainstream school, and I used to love looking at that dinky little outfit, the blue shorts, the smart white shirts.

Mr Then Five used to wear his uniform before he started school and I’d wash it… but never quite got round to ironing any of it.

Two days before school started, the shirts and I had a Mexican standoff. They looked hard at me and I glared back.

The shirts blinked first.

I made the domestic executive decision never to iron a school shirt… and I never have. Honestly, they look alright, they’re good enough.

Next year I will have four kids in school… and my trusty calculator (circa 1985) informs me that over the 13 years x 4 kids x 40 weeks x 5 days* my kids are at school I have saved myself ironing 11,200 school shirts.

I’m grateful for my slackness, it saves me so much time…. to do other stuff with… what stuff??  More housework!   Anyway, I am linking this to the lovely Maxabella’s Grateful list and look forward to reading other peoples’ posts there.

So that’s my domestic dirty secret of the day. What’s yours? Am I teaching the bairns to have no pride in their appearance?

Are you a starcher? Are your kids’ shirts crisper than crisp? Or are you like me, the last of the ironing refuseniks?

* why do I think my kids will stay at school for 13 years??  One of them is already desperate to leave and get a real job and he’s only 11.

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