It seems like Friday late afternoons are a preferred time to do laundry in my neighborhood. Which I greatly appreciated while on our walk this afternoon (we had naps). Because, you see, I’m addicted to clean laundry.
But only when I’m pregnant.
It was much much worse with Amelie’s pregnancy. I loved the smell of clean laundry (particularly anything that had touched a Bounce sheet) so much, I would wash my face with a clean washcloth several times a day. I tried to figure out a way to actually ingest the washcloth…but never managed to do it. Hahahahaha.
It’s a common pregnancy malady called pica. A nutritional deficiency that causes a person to crave things like dirt and soap…inedible things. (But nobody knows just what deficiency I might have, so that I could correct it).
I’ve probably always had a tendency to this…I have distinct early memories of standing outside my auntie’s dryer vent and sniffing gloriously. And trying to eat the bubbles produced by Mr. Bubbles.
This time around there are no urges to chew fabric, and Bounce sheets don’t do it for me. It’s the Spray ‘n’ Wash that drives me crazy, which is weird because usually I hate the smell of Spray ‘n’ Wash. (Luckily my children have been unusually stain-prone recently…see, there’s an upside to everything!) I just enjoy the clean smell of my free and clear detergent when I take the clothes out of the dryer, and try to put my mat near Rosie in yoga (she always smells like clean laundry).