According to the dictionary, “behind” has a whole list of
meanings. It can be used as a preposition with five different meanings: at or
toward the rear of; not keeping up with, later than; in the state of making
less progress than; on the farther side of, beyond; and originating,
supporting, or promoting. It can be used as an adverb with five more meanings:
at or toward the rear, rearward; in a place, state, or stage already passed; in
arrears; slow, as a watch or clock; and as a cause or often latent feature of.
In addition, it can be an adjective meaning “following”, or a noun meaning “the
buttocks” (tee hee).
There are a lot of “behinds” in my world in all the various
senses of the word. I wipe behinds, I run behind, I find things behind other
things, I am behind various causes, I frequently fall behind schedule. So when I
considered subjects for today’s photo, there were a lot of different ways I
could have gone. There are always a few interesting items that my kids have
dropped behind the TV or the couch (Legos, socks, remotes, Matchbox cars, dust
rhinos). They love to run around pants-free so a cute but tasteful shot of a
naked behind racing past was an option. Their favorite hidey-hole happens to be
behind a chair. They race around the house one behind the other. Come to think
of it, most of the “behind” in my life has its source with my children, one way
or the other.
But honestly, the first thing I think of when I hear the
word “behind” is laundry. Somehow, no matter how many loads I run, I’m always
behind on laundry. For a family that has a lot of clothes, rarely a day goes by
when someone isn’t looking for some article of clothing that turns out to be in
the laundry, be it in the laundry basket, in the washing machine, in the dryer,
or folded in a pile on the stairs waiting to be put away.
A pile of dirty laundry will always be foremost in my mind
as a symbol of motherhood.
But despite the constant state of “behindness” of my laundry
pile, there’s something special about doing my kids’ laundry. Matching up those
tiny socks. Checking the pockets for rocks and bugs and acorns and other
fascinating detritus of the day. Hanging up that fluffy party dress or that
button-up dress shirt with matching necktie on a miniature hanger. Realizing
suddenly that the baby clothes are looking more and more like big kid clothes. Replacing
bibs with underpants. Noticing that the spitup stains have given way to grass
stains. Recognizing that the clothes that I
picked out are rarely seen and the ones they
picked out for themselves are making more frequent appearances.
Laundry is a microcosm of kids growing up. Before I know it,
they’ll be doing their own laundry for fear that I’ll ruin their favorite pair
of jeans or that cool concert tee shirt. And I’ll be left with only my husband’s
and my own laundry to do. I just hope that by the time that happens, I’ll be
ready to leave their childhoods…behind.
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