As a contributor for Iowa City Moms Blog, I’ve written about some pretty tough topics. This post is no exception. I’m sharing one of the greatest challenges I’ve faced during my 14 years of parenting.
I know socks might seem like a benign concern, but believe me–socks are a major pain point in our household.
Our sock drama unfolds the same way every year. Fall rolls around. I go school shopping with my kids and spend a small fortune on pens, paper, glue sticks, and you guessed it–socks.
These new socks are glorious. They are crisp and clean. They smell nice. They MATCH.
I make a solemn vow with this new batch of socks. This will be the year things change. The socks will be washed, rolled into neat little balls, and kept in one place. My kids will skip off to school every day with perfect, matching socks.
Sadly, this fantasy ends after about two weeks. The once lovely, perfectly matched pairs end up…well, I don’t know where they end up. They get sucked into a horrible sock vortex, never to be seen or heard from again.
I’ve tried everything to maintain a sense of order with my family’s socks. I’ve tried labeling. I’ve tried a separate laundry bin just for socks. I’ve tried washing and drying them in laundry bags so they stay together. I’ve tried special drawers and clipping pairs together with clothes pins. I’ve even tried reframing the narrative of our sock-related chaos. Who cares if their socks match! Our kids are creative! Matching socks are for conformists! Matching socks are for the man!
It may seem like I’ve gone off the deep end with all of this sock venting. But the truth is, for a long time this issue wasn’t really about socks.
The sock angst was extension of my “Other Mom” syndrome. Other Moms are tidy and organized. Other Moms are able to keep up with the laundry. Other Moms would never allow their child to leave the house wearing a purple anklet on one foot and a tube sock on the other.
Little by little, I’ve learned to let go of the “Other Mom” mythology. We moms all have our struggles. We all have strengths and weaknesses, our messes and miracles, our chaos and calm. I may never unlock the mystery of the sock, and that’s okay.
But I’d sure love some advice. How do you keep track of your family’s socks?