I just give up completely on socks.
It’s taken twenty years of mothering, but the socks win. It’s just so frustrating to wash twenty socks and have two matched pairs when all is folded and done.
You know the joke about the washer eating them? That was true in my case. In a full load, a small sock can slosh over the top of the washtub and get sucked into the pump. ($150 repair, by the way.)
But, that only partial explains the mystery of what happens to socks in my house.
Exhibit A: The Sock Box.
This is where socks go to die. Not my socks, since I make sure I filch those and take them up to my room even if the pair didn’t make it through the wash together.
I don’t know how this started at my house. I’m sure it was innocently enough in the beginning—a single sock waiting on the dryer for its mate to be cleaned.
Then, a few more singleton socks appeared and, hey, it’s a sock party. I put them in a little baskets so they’d be “organized”.
Over the years the baskets got bigger and bigger and now the Sock Box is an enormous hamper filled with mismatched socks.
The bottom stratum consists of Barney booties circa 1994 for a baby who is now 18.
When the kids do laundry, they just stick ALL the socks in the sock box. They are not even trying anymore.
They just root around in the hamper like a truffle pig when they need to cover their feet. Matching optional, which kind of destroys the whole reason for the sock holding pen in the first place.
Of course, if a sock or seven fall out, those are the invisible socks. Invisible socks are only perceptible through the magic of old estrogen.
Occasionally, like before my mother visits, I’ll pay one of the younger kids a buck or two to pair up the four thousand socks and put the matched sets away.
But, now I am so tired of this that my only option is to concede defeat, ditch all the socks and just put my kids in sandals year round.
Yep, no other option exists. Not one.
Sandals for everyone!
Layla Payton says
BAHAHA! I can so relate? And I feel so much better knowing that I am not the only mom out there who tries to get her kids to wear flip flops 9 months out of the year. What is the deal with socks??? 🙄
Tell me, do you get those mysterious “sock balls” on your living room floor, as well? I mean, how hard is it to put them in the hamper when you take them off?
Nota Supermom says
Yes! “Sock tumbleweeds!”
You can drive; put your socks in the hamper!
Ha ha ha! Our family’s socks are currently living in 2 Rubbermaid totes: white socks, and colored socks. Talk about segregation! 🙂 Seriously, there’s Mom & Dad’s socks, and then 3 boy sock sizes and 3 girl sock sizes. If you need socks, you have to go hunt some down. And yep, we’ve given up even matching the stripe colors anymore. After all, it’s under your pant leg, right?! So glad to read a commentary on this “hidden household dilemma” that’s so spot on!
Nota Supermom says
I’m just so happy it’s not just me. I was worried I’d get advice because everyone else in the world has some awesome stock system.
(Though, if someone does have a system, I would love to hear it.)
This is a perfect plan. I love it! All of my girls’ socks disappear into a black hole before they even make it to the washer. My boys attempt to keep wearing theirs for so long that I have to throw them away. They don’t make a detergent strong enough. We’re a flip-flop home, as well!
See, I think my sandal plan is a good one.
We probably won’t even have snow for a month or so.
So glad to know we are not the only ones with a sock box. Our box is an big old baby gift bag…(that we received when dd12 was a baby :shock)Yes..for 12 yrs we have been collecting renegade socks. Every couple of weeks, two of the yahoos are given the task of finding the matches and putting them away. It gives them something to do..which is quite useful…actually. If they dare to complain that they are bored…out comes the sock bag!
I make mine clean a toilet, but the sock thing is a great idea.
That’s almost doable here in Arizona! Except for PE days when the teachers say they have to wear sneakers. Thanks for reminding me the best thing about having an high efficiency washer, there’s no tub for little socks to slosh over and cause the need for expensive and always inconvenient repairs!
Ooh, a HE washer. I dream.
Yes, if we lived in Arizona we’d have like two pairs of socks each. One dark and one light.
BAhahahah. I like your solution. And since you’re in cozy Virginny it should work just fine.
In fact, I’ve seen teens here wearing flip-flops in the snow. (Kids don’t have a lick of sense)
The money quote in this post “Invisible socks are only perceptible through the magic of old estrogen. ” I laughed OUT LOUD! The dog looked at me worried.
Old estrogen is a blessing and a curse.
You are cracking me up! I needed a good chuckle! I think you have a good plan. Hang in there!
Thanks! You made my day.
At least your socks are clean and in the house!
Our socks are buried in the backyard. Courtesy of the dog.
She stopped stealing socks for a while, so we all got lax about them, and now, when we need socks, well, we know where to dig.
This is the good thing about having a Chuhuahua. She’s never buried anything in her life.
Margaret Hollingsworth says
Socks? What socks?? Laundry?? What laundry???
Seriously though, my method of single sock organization is to toss them all in the trash once a year or so. I guess I’ve moved too many times. I refuse to unpack a box of unmatched socks. Ever.
I want to throw them out and start over.
If you are tired of socks, you HAVE to try this:
I hope it does for you all what it has done for me and my family! Let me know how it goes!
Okay, that is rather brilliant. Thanks!
Jennifer Dougan says
I grinned about your sock post. I agree! I try to buy my husband all matching socks so at least anyone should work, but that’s not fool proof. Then I just started lumping all cleans socks into his own drawer, not even trying to pre-match them.
This is what I’ve done for my husband, for the most part.
It was trouble when our son decided he liked the same kind of sock. We gave up and bought different socks for my husband.
Ughhh. I have literally taken the kiddo to the babysitter for two weeks with two different socks on-none of which are a match.
That’s kind of in. My daughter got a catalog in the mail yesterday for all mis-matched socks and gloves.
Susan in the Boonies says
I read this to my son to point out what a GOOD momma I am. (Since I only have two kids, the odds of me matching sock pairs are significantly in my favor.)
He pointed out to me that his whole sock drawer, technically, has become a sock box.
It’s not that I don’t match his socks before they go up to his room. It’s just that there are always those pesky strays, and he never bothers to play matchmaker when he gets the loners back to his room.
So…the outcome is the same.
It’s just a bit more segregated. A BIT.
It’s not in your living room. My shame is public!
I think you are me. I hate socks. In January I’ll tell my kids to just wear flip-flops because I don’t deal well with socks. The sock aisle at WalMart gives me a panic attack. Love your blog. (Met you at BBCATL.)
It’s 45 degrees outside and I’m wearing flip flops in the house. This may be a bad idea. 😉
I found something that kind of works in our family… If those kids with ADHD can remember to not lose the delicates laundry bag… A few months ago, I found a zippered laundry bag (in the laundry/organizing section of the local department store). I bought one for each child. They were to put their socks in the bag at the end of the day, then we just throw the bag in the laundry and wash and dry.
It works… When we remember to not lose the bags. 😉
I may try this. Where do the bags stay? In the bathroom? Bedroom?
At our house we call this The Saint Anthony Home for Wayward Socks–it is has a sign and amuses those nosy guests who wander into the laundry room looking for beer and kitkats. Our laundry room has a fridge–remember when we used to iron everything and put the sprinkled clothes in the “ice box”?–me neither. This is where I keep the kitkats and beer and other laundry helps.
You have KitKats in your laundry fridge? You are a genius.