Laundry in abundance

Let me intentionally start this post with something positive, something cheery and not depressing, whiny or sad. My 4th child, who still needs a pseudonym even though she's 10 months old, recently discovered she can pull herself into a standing position. She is very excited and proud of this new feat and grins adorably while she does it. Those sweet, dimpled little smiles are some of my very favorite moments each day. *contented sigh*
She is a truly endearing little person who seems to delight in all parts of our disorganized life. Except for teething or the flu--but who can blame her for not liking those? I heart her. And so does Bob, who currently sees her less than 1 hr a day due to an unmanageable workload combined with an infant's sleep needs. If I could change 1 small thing in our life right now it would definitely be making it possible for Bob to be able to spend more time loving on that baby. He adores her, and cannot get enough of playing and snuggling and laughing with her. I think it would be therapeutic for his overworked soul. *less contented sigh*

And now my originally intended post.
I do a lot of laundry. And I hate it. I hate hauling it down to the machines, sorting it, having to remember to switch the load, hauling it back up. I really really hate folding it and either putting it away or browbeating my offspring into putting their own away. (This chore being, clearly, a torturous task only the truly horrid would foist on a child) I hate it because it is thankless, and monotonous and most of all because it is never. Ever. done. Ever.
Last weekend I completed something like 8 loads of laundry, after a week that included both house guests and a disgusting flu that involved both vomit and explosive intestinal distress. And when I finished folding it all do you know what happened? I bet you can guess. . . Yep, I still had 2 more clean loads in the dryer or baskets, plus the other items already re-filling hampers in all 3 bedrooms. And today I will be doing some more.
I am trying to find something in this unending task to be thankful for, but today it eludes me. I mean, I'm glad no one in our house has to go naked and all, but only in an intellectual, no desire to get calls from schools or get Bob fired way. Not actually grateful. I suppose the rest of our community is glad we aren't nudists, so maybe knowing I'm contributing to the common good will have to be close enough for now. Tomorrow I will be thankful for many things, including some uninterrupted time with dear friends who I cherish and who love me much better than I deserve. Is it ridiculous to be saving up thankfulness? *final, confused sigh*