Laundry and Birth Control

This morning I got up the gumption to go down to the basement and switch the laundry. I love our new house, but why no first floor laundry? Who invented the "basement laundry room", anyway? I am certain that it was one of these people who purposely parks at the back of the supermarket parking lot so they can get their lousy 10,000 steps in (yes I am aware that I should be one of these people). Putting your laundry room in the basement is just setting yourself up for failure. You know what belongs in your basement? The boogey man. That's it.
The other thing that stinks about having a basement laundry room is that I have to practically sneak down there to do the stupid laundry. If my toddlers see me disappear down the stairs they will scream and cry as if I've left them to join the circus(you know what my response is to that notion? Don't worry, kids. We ARE the circus. No need to go out and find what I've already got).In order to get any laundry done at all, I have to distract them with cartoons, snacks, and empty promises. That usually works. But still. It's such a process.
Today when I came back up from switching laundry, I opened the door and saw my two year old and my one year old underneath the kitchen table.EACH of them armed with their own box of Cheezits.It would have been bad enough if they just had one box. Two boxes was pure ridicule.They were cramming cheezits down with reckless abandon, and when they saw me, they laughed wildly. For some reason, their laughter scared the living you know what out of me. I think it's because it was so irreverent. And also maybe because it seemed to be directed at me. You know, kind of a mocking "we have defeated you!" kind of laugh. I did indeed feel defeated.Because I knew that my dear husband, who has something akin to an ongoing love affair with cheezits, would be quizzing me later on how I could possibly let this happen.
Whatever.
All of this is proof to me that I am in dire need of a first floor laundry.You know what? I kind of like doing laundry. I like the smell of clean laundry. I like folding warm clothes. I have even learned to fold like Martha Stewart (shut up. you have no idea how thrilling this can be) I envy her large, bright laundry room with three ginormous soaking sinks and endless shelves for storage(don't ask me why Martha needs an industrial sized laundry room. I'm sure she has her reasons). I also have many days where the laundry piles up and forms an unnamed mountain.
On International Women's Day, the Vatican newspaper remarked that the washing machine has done more to liberate women than the birth control pill. I have to agree with this wholeheartedly. What a shocker that must be for those of you who know I am pregnant with our fourth child.It never ceases to amaze me when our society praises the wonders of certified organic food and birth control, simultaneously. Birth control pills have got to be some of the most unnatural, unhealthy chemicals you could ever pump into your body.Recently a young doctor told me that he had seen three cases in ONE month of women with blood clots in their lungs due to birth control. One of them was a seventeen year old girl.There has been plenty of evidence showing links between oral contraceptives and different types of cancers (including breast cancer),heart disease, strokes, etc.
Honey, my washing machine might sometimes be a serious pain in the backside, but it won't ever give me blood clots or cancer! It helps me to get the job done, and carry out my responsiblities.
Personally, I don't find breast cancer or living as an adult child and avoiding adult responsibility to be very freeing.
But you know what would be freeing?!
A first floor laundry, baby!!!!!!!!