I am admittedly terrible at many things.

Laundry is one of them.

I have issues.

I am the person who doesn’t separate whites and darks because I totally think it’s a myth. Judging by how gray the majority of my white camisoles are, I’m thinking that perhaps there’s some truth to this nasty rumor that whites and darks should be washed in different loads.

I am the person who tries to use bleach to whiten said gray camisoles, but doesn’t really know how to use bleach and ends up with…gray camisoles.

I am the person who loads the washer all the way to the very, very top to cut down on the amount of loads.

I am the person who doesn’t pay attention to stains.

I am the person who throws a lovely dry clean only dress/sweater/shirt/skirt into the washer and/or dryer and doesn’t realize until it’s Cabbage Patch Kid sized. Lucky Miss Emily has inherited many a piece of clothing because of my poor shrinking skills.

I am the person who abuses dryer sheets.

I am the person who shrinks all of her bras.

I am the person who doesn’t believe in hanging anything to dry, because, well, there’s the whole crunchiness factor.

I am the person who cannot iron anything to save her life. Well, that’s a lie. I can iron a mean melty bead creation. But a dress shirt? FORGETABOUTIT. I am best friends with my dry cleaner.

I am the person who folds all of her laundry and puts it back into the hamper and lets it sit there for days and forces her kids to go hamper diving to find their (un-ironed) uniform shirts.

I am the person who washes towels and pajamas too often.

Yes,

I am admittedly terrible at many things.

Plastic water bottle addiction is one of them.

I know.

I KNOW.

It’s shameful. But, you only make the mistake of taking a swig of a water bottle and catching a mouthful of chewed-up-by-Isabella cashews ONCE and you realize that an open water bottle is a horrific backwash disaster waiting to happen. Once it has been open, there’s no telling which child has gotten to it, so a new one gets opened.

And, I mean, the convenience of them is just undeniable. Because as sure as I that my younglings will have to pee at the most inopportune time, I am just as sure that they will needadrinkrightthissecondormythroatisgoingotcloseup. Always. Stuck in traffic. In the carpool line. At the park. At Target. In the backyard. So, you know, I have tossed water bottles everywhere. In my purse, in my van, in my bedroom. Convenient.

But, because I realize that my laundry problems are not going to be solved any time soon, I made a Martell family executive decision…and I am pleased to announce that we are going

PLASTIC WATER BOTTLE FREE!

I took the three kids to Target and let them each pick a water bottle of their very own.

I bought a water bottle for myself. And one for the husband.

And the very best part about all of this is….yeah, yeah, it’s good for the environment and all that jazz….that I will never, ever run the risk of getting a mouthful of something that has been previously chewed.

One out of two isn’t bad, right?