Whenever I start anything new, I like to do a little research and make lists.
And now that I am spending at least one day a week cleaning my house, I decided to take a careful look at the subject of housework.
The first thing I “googled” was a site that listed tips for housework procrastinators. Well, I guess that could be me. I mean there was that one time when Izzy was a toddler. One afternoon in my office when she came in looking for a book. I was typing away at the computer and I heard, “Oh, mommy, what beautiful, soft yarn this is.” I recall feeling quite proud. My Izzy had obviously developed a keen fiber sense…and at such a young age. As I moved to look, my proud mama~ness turned to horror. There was my sweet Izzy running her hand over the world’s largest dust bunny. Gigantic actually. So, yes, procrastinator might fit.
I decided to take the bait and read the article. It was good. Inspiring. Just look at the tasks, break them down, assign timeframes. Sure. What could be easier? After all, once upon a time I was a productive member of the business world who believed in the power of the gannt chart. Give me a spreadsheet and some pie charts and I was a happy camper. Housework. Tasks. Timeframes. Yes ~ I could do this.
I scanned the example in the article. Hmmm. Something wasn’t quite right here. I went back to the main page of the blog. There was the author’s picture. She was smiling. Nice looking. Professional. Her earrings matched her necklace…probably her bracelet too. And she looked pleasant. Rested. Very well rested. WELL RESTED. What? Does she live alone? Hey – wait a minute. Then I went back to her list:
Making the Bed - 2 minutes
Do a load of Wash - 5 min to sort & load, 5 minutes to hang up.
Load the dishwasher - 5 to 7 minutes
Sweep Kitchen Floor – 5 minutes
Pick up the family room – 5 minutes
Total time: 24 minutes
24 minutes. 24 minutes. Maybe for some folks, 24 minutes is accurate. But if I was going to take on the procrastinator title, I wanted to make sure we were comparing apples to apples. So, I made my own list:
Making the Bed. 25 minutes.
a. Trip over 4 pairs of sneakers and flip flops, step on last night’s homework, feel obligated to pick up several days worth of nasty socks and underwear, gather cups and glasses that aren’t allowed upstairs in the bedroom, grab paper towel and save that pretty / almost new comforter from the lip gloss amoeba on the floor, snag the cordless phone that no one has been able to find for a week from under the bed….15 minutes
b. Make the bed and spend the next 10 minutes trying to track down the matching pillow shams that have been strategically stuffed between the bed and the wall to protect against evil spirits, monsters and random alien visitors. 10 minutes
Do a Load of Wash, Sort , Load & Hang . Okay, well, maybe it’s just a terminology issue but I see it more like this:
Evaluate, Rescue, Disassemble, Sort, Load & Hang
Evaluate 10-20 minutes.
In order to properly evaluate the laundry you must first recognize that not everything that ends up in the laundry chute is dirty.
That is to say, not every item that is tossed down the chute belongs in the washing machine. The most maddening of these is the I know I said I wanted it in the store but I will never wear this piece of clothing - ever scenario. The kids try them on in the morning, decide they don’t like them, take them off, crumple them up in a heap and toss them down the laundry chute. You can spot these babies in a heartbeat. They are the cleanest garments in your entire house. They get washed, folded, put away, taken out, tried on, and back down the chute. If you aren’t thinking clearly on any given day, you will no doubt wash them, dry them and send them back up stairs for another round. Hence the telltale sparkle. The evaluation step will help you smarten up and plop these into the goodwill box instead of the front loader.
Part 2 of evaluating is identifying the sub group known as they fit, I like them but I tried it on and now I don’t want to wear it today. You will need to be on your toes for this one. Look for fold lines, creases that are still fresh and by all means trust yourself. If picking up the cute little lace v neck shirt causes your heart to race, the vein on the side of your neck to pulse and the urge to spew very unkind words consumes you, then you have hit pay dirt. This little number has visited once already this week. Off it goes – back to where it came from. This subgroup appears in households where the laundry chute is not considered a method of transporting soiled clothing from one location to another. It is simply the easiest way to get the clothing folded and back into the dresser drawer without having to actually do it yourself.
Disassemble. 10-15 minutes
Disassemble. My experience with laundry has led me to believe that men do not disassemble. In fact, this is why when men offer to help with the laundry what they really mean is they are about to throw in a load of towels.
Disassembly can take on several forms. There is the standard t-shirt and hoodi combo. Since all teenagers have the uncanny ability to use one sweeping arm maneuver to remove both their shirt & hoodie simultaneously, our laundry chute is packed with combos to disassemble.
There are other combos requiring attention. In the interest of good taste, I will spare you my experience with activities involving thongs, bikini underwear, pajamas pants and boxers.
A huge amount of disassembly time goes to socks. The bottom of our laundry chute is always full of socks. And they aren’t just sitting there waiting to be cleaned. No. They are wadded up and balled tight like little potato bugs resisting any and all intruders. Low socks are the worst. There really isn’t anything to hold or pull when you want to free the dingy little guys. You basically have to crack the thing open and straighten it out in order to get them washer ready. At least with ankle socks, you have something to hang onto as you yank, flick and hold your breath.
Wow. I’m already at 60 minutes and I haven’t even hit the critical path items: bathrooms, powder room. Now that I think of it, the well accessorized housework expert made no mention of tubs, toilets or sinks. None. Hey. Then how? Or when? Well, she must…she has…a cleaning lady! Of course.
So, Forget the tips for procrastinators. Next up: Zen housework. A minmalist’s guide to cleaning. I’ll let you know how that works out next post.
