Category Archives: Cleaning

Lucky Friday the 13th

I have never been superstitious. Nevertheless, when I realized our move worked out to be on Friday the 13th, I was a little wary. But all fears were unfounded. The move went like clockwork, and I once again was grateful for the ease of moving with movers. It is 100-times worth the cost! Friday was the least stressful day of the last two weeks.

Ryan was to return home Thursday night; I’d been packing and cleaning the new house* for the past two weeks. Then Ryan called to say his flight was delayed. I was so tired of packing alone that I was almost feeling like a basket case. I had put my tired little boy in bed a little early and it was about 7 p.m. Ryan wouldn’t be home for 2 1/2 hours. Despite the boxes that still needed to be filled, I fell asleep. Once he arrived home, Ryan was up until after midnight doing some last minute packing. He let me sleep, thank goodness.

When the movers got there Friday morning, we just stood out of the way and watched them work. All the stress resting on my shoulders began to dissipate. We’d made it!

Now we have to unpack, but there is no stress or pressure: all I have to do before the end of the month (12 days) is clean and vacuum our apartment. The boxes in the new house will be emptied when we get to them!

That said, we got a lot done in the last three days.

Here’s a picture illustrating all that’s to unpack in the kitchen and living room: the kitchen box is the half-filled large one on the right. The blue tub is extra kitchen stuff for the basement, and the other boxes are for the living room. I wish I took a picture of the boxes before I began to unpack so I could share how much has already been emptied!

Here’s the kitchen at this point. We’re looking for a new kitchen table and chairs. (I hate this one.)

And while I unpacked the kitchen, Ryan worked on setting up the family room. We need a console to store the games and DVDs, but so far so good!

The living room is vacant, since our living room furniture is in the family room; we’re going to get family room furniture hopefully in the next month. The dining room is vacant and will remain so, since we don’t foresee getting a dining set in the next 12 to 24 months. The basement is a mess. The master bedroom is set up and habitable, thanks to Mom and Dad’s help during their Saturday night visit. Paul’s room is likewise full of toys and fun. Both other bedrooms are offices right now; they are, needless to say, a mess.

Anyway, I’m quite happy that at least the kitchen and family room, the main areas of my life, are ready to be lived in. Not bad for three days. On to the next three days! (during which, unfortunately, Ryan will be traveling again.)

*It was pointed out to me that sharing pictures of my dirty floor is tacky. Why brag to the world of my dirty house? I agree that it’s pretty tacky. Therefore, I want to clarify that the dirty laundry room floor was dirty from the previous owners. None of it was my dirt. And I subsequently cleaned it. I was just amazed, once again, by the power of Magic Erasers and I wanted to share.

Message from the Floor (aka, Why I Love Magic Erasers)

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Thanks to my mom for pointing out that Magic Erasers can eliminate what PineSol cannot. I love those things!

(The floor is actually grey. My phone camera rather distorted the color!)

A Happy Birthday Defined

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Last year, I had laparoscopic surgery four days before my birthday. On my birthday, my husband had to go back to work, so I rested in bed for the fourth straight day, three-month-old Paul on the bed right next to me, kicking and sleeping and otherwise acting surprisingly good. By the time Ryan was due to come home, I was bored from being in bed for days, so I got up and made a very yummy dinner for us. (It was all the more delicious to eat knowing that I could not possibly have a gall stone attack.) All told, it was a nice birthday.

This year’s birthday has been even better. Last year, my (costliest) present was abdominal surgery (for which I was very grateful). This year, my present contains a roof, four bedrooms, granite kitchen countertops, and a back yard. It should be ours as of next Thursday evening, barring disaster.

Of course, it will take at least 30 years to pay for this present, so I guess my birthday presents for the foreseeable future are covered!

My Happy Birthday

This year’s main disappointment was that my husband was out of town. But since I knew this would be the case, I was determined to have a happy birthday all the same. So I’ve been asking myself, what makes a happy birthday?

Last year, I loved making my husband dinner; it was just what I needed, since I’d had a few days of laziness. It felt wonderful to do something for someone else. It felt nice to be productive. I wanted a nice birthday this year, even while alone.

When I awoke yesterday morning, I decided that I wanted to take a luxurious, warm shower in my own shower. As much as I love to exercise in the morning, there is something quite distasteful to showering, changing, and doing my hair in the public restroom. No: on my birthday, at least, I wanted to get “cute” at home.

Then I asked myself: what would I love for my birthday? I decided I wanted to have a clean house. When Ryan’s gone, I get lazy: I leave dishes in the sink; I leave things lying around; I leave messes on the counter. So after Paul ate (or not) his breakfast, I cleaned the entire downstairs. I cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, and I vacuumed the entire house.

It felt so nice to have a clean house. I kept thinking: what a wonderful birthday present I’m giving myself! And it didn’t feel like work. (Don’t get me wrong; I don’t like to clean. But it felt good.)

Paul was cranky, but as a result he was happy to give me a few minutes of cuddling during Sesame Street. Then we went to Paul’s playgroup for an hour, where he could run around, much to his delight. After his lunch, Paul went down for a nap, and I indulged in reading a little of my novel. After all, I’d already cleaned the house; I didn’t have to feel guilty. Then I frosted the chocolate cake I’d made and two of my friends came over to help me eat it; one friend has a little boy Paul’s age, so they had lots of fun.

By the time my friends left, Paul had his dinner and I gave him a bath: I love the laugh of a happy little boy. I sang him a lullaby and he went to sleep. I had a little bit of time to write on my blog and then I talked to my husband on the phone for an hour. Sigh. It was as perfect a birthday as could be without my husband here.

What Is a Happy Birthday?

People seem to say that birthdays are a day for other people to indulge you: your “special day” apparently means no work.

But I don’t understand that. Waiting for other people to serve me would have made for a pretty disappointing birthday. I would have been completely alone, in a dirty house, with a cranky baby, and no chocolate cake. And, in the long run, I think that attitude would lead to a pretty disappointing life. Other people can’t anticipate what I want, and nagging them to do what I want wouldn’t be much fun either. (I hate nagging.)

I loved the fact that doing little things for myself (like doing my hair and makeup, cleaning my house, visiting with friends, making a treat) were very rewarding in one little day. And I think that is what I should be doing every day, for that is what makes life rewarding.

I like the concept of birthdays: a special day for each person. And yet, as busy stay-at-home mothers, I think we should treat every day as our birthday: not by being selfish and expecting things of others, but by doing for ourselves whatever it takes to make life pleasant. (Not that I suggest we eat chocolate cake every day, or sit and read a novel every afternoon, or clean the house every day…)

The next step, of course, is then going out and making a difference in other people’s lives. Why wait for their one day of the year?

What makes your birthday happy? What do you hope for? What do you do for yourself every day?

The Ants Came Marching

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If you despise bugs, you may not want to read this post.

On the other hand, if you want motivation for always wiping down the counters, cleaning the dishes, and otherwise cleaning the kitchen on a regular basis, this may be the post for you.

I think I keep a pretty tidy kitchen. I wipe down the counters thoroughly at least once a day. I regularly unload the dishwasher and load it again to keep the sink empty. I try to keep it clean.

The other morning, we put our dirty breakfast dishes in the sink — the dishwasher had clean dishes in it. I went back two hours later (when Paul was happier) to empty the dishwasher, load it, and make brownies.

Ants were crawling into the sink, around the sink, on the counters, and under the kitchen counter.

I didn’t scream. But I do think my heart literally skipped a few beats. I thought I’d fall over. “Oh, my! Oh, my!” was all I could say. No one except Paul was there to hear me.

I killed the ants with ant poison.

In case you wanted to know, it took almost 5 hours (over the course of that morning, that afternoon, and the next morning) to wash all the silverware and utensils in the drawers, wash all the pots in the one cabinet, and wipe down the entire pantry (even though the ants hadn’t made it that far).

I’m beginning to suspect that there is a nest under our house — last month they came in near the front door and the month before that they came in through the bathroom.

The good side of this horrendous problem is that now I am very motivated to wipe the kitchen table and counters immediately upon finishing eating and immediately after I get them dirty. I haven’t left dishes in the sink. I now have a clean pantry.

So there are some bonuses. But I’d rather the ants hadn’t invaded.

One-Year Anniversary

Reflections on “A Spoon Full of Sugar” and “Just 30 Minutes”

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For every job that must be done
There is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job’s a game.

I’ve been listening to Disney music lately. One thing I bought in the States is a five-disc Disney song Classics collection. I’ve enjoyed the retreat to childhood as I revisit favorite songs and introduce my infant son to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” and “When You Wish upon a Star” and dozens of others.

Another thing we brought back from the States is a Swiffer and a hundred dry Swiffer rags. This was a gift from my mother-in-law, who believed me when I said that a Swiffer was all I wanted (I couldn’t find them here!). Despite Swiffer’s claim otherwise, you really can’t throw away the broom and the mop — the dry Swiffer doesn’t catch three-dimensional things and the wet Swiffer doesn’t do a great job at kitchen messes — but overall, the Swiffer is a great floor-cleaning tool: it catches the dust and hairs and dirt that just don’t get caught without it. I feel efficient when I’m Swiffering (yes, I believe that is a verb now), and I don’t have to try to catch the mess in a dustpan as I use it.

As I was Swiffering our huge hardwood floor the other morning, I started humming “A Spoon Full of Sugar.” I realized that something as simple as a tool I liked made the task less annoying. Cleaning the floor wasn’t as much of a bother because I felt like I was being efficient. The Swiffer was my “spoonful of sugar” that helped the medicine of cleaning “go down.”

Later, I was telling my husband about a silly website I visited.

“I know I have better things to do,” I said.”But it was fun. Besides, it was just a half-hour, if that.”

He looked at me. “Just a half-hour? How many half-hours do you get every day?”

He wasn’t accusatory at all — I imagine he really doesn’t care what I do. It’s my time. But I realized that this question was coming from a man who had a limited number of “free” half-hours every day. Many of his half-hours are filled with work responsibilities.

How many half-hours do I get every day? And what do I do with all of them?

Yesterday I began a testing process. Here was the test: what can I do in a half an hour? Here’s a list of the chores I can do in half an hour:

Shower, dress, and do my hair and makeup (unless I iron my clothes)
Clean three bathrooms (at 10 minutes each)
Starch and iron 1½ shirts (at 20 minutes each — I’m really slow. My husband usually irons his own shirts, but I really should iron for him, given how many more “free” half-hours I get each day. Maybe I’ll get faster as I do this more often.)
Swiffer and sweep, thoroughly, the hardwood floors (lots downstairs, some upstairs)
Vacuum the carpeting (three rooms and two large rugs)
Dust the bookcases, shelves, and ceiling corners of the house using a Swiffer duster
Wash the dishes in the sink (by hand) and wipe down the counters and the microwave
Make a quick dinner

Some things take half that time:

Feed my son
Eat breakfast
Eat lunch
Fold and put away a load of laundry and start the next load
Unload the dishwasher and load it again
Wipe the kitchen counters and table and set the table for dinner
Tidy the living room (by actually putting things away, not just hiding them)
Swiffer, quickly, the hardwood floors

Some things take twice as long:

Make a longer dinner (you can’t rush risotto)
Get groceries at the supermarket and unload them and put them away

Obviously, some things can’t be done when my son is demanding my attention. (When he wants attention, then I can do some of the fun half-hours: cuddle him close to me, read Winnie-the-Pooh to him, sing a few primary songs, get on the floor and play with his toys.) And how do I vacuum when he’s napping without waking him? But when I put these things in half-hour increments, I don’t feel wrong asking him to entertain himself here and there through the day. Letting him play by himself for 30 minutes while I shower and get ready every morning can’t kill him. Also, he was happy to watch me wash dishes and wipe down kitchen counters because I was talking with him and singing to him as I did it.

As I tested how much of each chore I could get done in a half hour, I felt an urgency to hurry and get it done. It was almost like a game.

The end results were the biggest bonuses. I felt so much better about myself when my hair was done and my makeup was on. I felt a sense of glee when I found that folding and putting away an entire load of laundry took half as long as I thought it would. I felt a sense of satisfaction when I looked at the living room, free of unnecessary clutter, and knew that everything was put away where it was “supposed” to be. I felt very good as I set a well-balanced meal in front of my husband at the end of his long work day.

Those 30 minutes I spent visiting a “who does your son look like?” webpage seemed like “just a half-hour.” It went fast. I think I’ll try to think of chores as “just a half-hour” and maybe that will make them go faster.

Even with the challenge of “how long does it take?”, I don’t think these chores are fun, and it isn’t really a “game” to do them. But I think the satisfaction of having a clean, put-together home is a great reward.

Comfort Food

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Last week I felt very efficient. I cleaned the whole apartment from top to bottom and cooked dinner every night. Saturday night I made a turkey dinner and we entertained. I felt very good.

This week has been kind of blah. Monday was raining. Tuesday I felt unwell. Wednesday Paul got his first immunizations so he was very unhappy and sore. Thursday I spent the day filling out insurance paperwork. I haven’t been very good at cleaning, and since I didn’t do a big shopping trip on Saturday, I can only cook what I can buy and carry in the stroller, so I’ve done some easy things.

Last night I made Macaroni and Cheese. I think of it as a comfort food because it is so easy to make. I make sure I have a block of cheddar cheese and macaroni in the house so I can make it when I’m in a pinch for a yummy dinner.

I thought I’d share the recipe. (And yes, it is so much better than Kraft.)

Easy Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients

Cheese Sauce Ingredients

Directions

Prepare cheese sauce as follows: Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir in the flour and cook, stirring constantly, until the paste cooks and bubbles a bit, but don’t let it brown, about 2 minutes. Add the hot milk, continuing to stir as the sauce thickens. Bring it to a boil. Add salt and pepper to taste, lower the heat, and cook, stirring for 2 to 3 minutes more. Stir in 1 cup grated Cheddar cheese during the last 2 minutes of cooking, along with a pinch of cayenne pepper. Remove from heat.

Here’s what I’ve learned in making this dish. First, if I accidentally add too much flour, I’ll have to start over. I’ve made this dish a few times so I guess I was feeling confident at my estimating. But I accidentally put in way too much and I could tell right away it would never blend together. I dumped it out and started again.

Second, if I don’t cook the roux long enough, the sauce will not thicken. I missed that the first time or two. I just had a milky cheese sauce. How do you know when the roux is cooked long enough? I’m still trying to figure it out. My husband says it smells “nutty.” I guess so, but how do you really define that? Last night, I thought I didn’t cook it long enough because the sauce wasn’t thickening. I was going to give it five more minutes and then start over with a new roux. But then it thickened up, so I didn’t have to.

Third, I should have used whole milk! We had some in the fridge, but I didn’t think of it until after I’d added skim milk. Oh well.

Fourth, I should make sure I put in salt and pepper! The first time I omitted them. I think I used to be afraid of putting them in, for any dish. But the more the better — to a certain extent…

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190 C). Butter a casserole dish. Put the cooked macaroni into the casserole dish, pour the cheese sauce over it, and mix gently with a fork.

Somehow, I didn’t quite have enough sauce last night. If I’d have had time, I’d have made another batch of sauce. It’s good to have very creamy mac and cheese. Instead, we just poured milk over the top of our bowls when we served it.

Sprinkle the grated cheese evenly over the top and spread the crumbs over the cheese. Bake, uncovered, until the top is golden and the sauce is bubbling, about 30 minutes.

I didn’t measure the cheese or the breadcrumbs. I just put on as much as looked tasty.

And it was tasty! (Yes, even the leftovers are gone already!)

Cleaning as Nurturing

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I’ve been thinking a lot about the talk by Sister Beck in conference about motherhood. Here’s the part I’ve been dwelling on the last few days:

Another word for nurturing is homemaking. Homemaking includes cooking, washing clothes and dishes, and keeping an orderly home. Home is where women have the most power and influence; therefore, Latter-day Saint women should be the best homemakers in the world. … Nurturing mothers are knowledgeable, but all the education women attain will avail them nothing if they do not have the skill to make a home that creates a climate for spiritual growth. Growth happens best in a “house of order,” and women should pattern their homes after the Lord’s house (see D&C 109). Nurturing requires organization, patience, love, and work.

To nurture, I need to cook, wash clothes and dishes, and keep an orderly home.

Firstly, cooking. As I mentioned yesterday, I’ve recently discovered I love to cook! Cooking no longer feels like a chore, but a delight. I can see how cooking a meal for my family is nurturing them.

Next, washing clothes and dishes. I don’t mind doing laundry and dishes. Once the clothes are clean, then the hampers are empty, and that feels satisfying. I get to do twice as much laundry now with an infant. I really don’t mind doing it. True, I dyed a few of Pauls’ white onesies pink the first week of his life, but since then, there have been no “disasters” and we’ve been clothed well.

As for dishes, one of my first jobs at BYU was a dishwasher in the CougarEat kitchens. It was relaxing. My husband does dishes each night after dinner now anyway because Paul is usually hungry at just the right moment…but really, I don’t mind dishes at all.

Finally, keeping an orderly home. I take this to mean cleaning and not just keeping things organized. I can put things away and avoid piles of “stuff” and wipe down kitchen counters. I can follow a grocery budget and keep my pantry stocked and in order. But my problem right now is cleaning. I find sweeping, mopping, cleaning toilets, scrubbing down showers, vacuuming, and dusting absolutely tedious. Mom suggested I like cooking because it’s a symbol of my love. For some reason, I just can’t think of cleaning in the same way. It just feels tedious.

My dislike of cleaning is not a new problem. As a kid, when Mom gave me my chores on Saturday mornings, I’d sing “It’s a Hard-Knock Life” and grumble about how unfair it was to have to clean. As an adult, my philosophy has always been: if I can see the dust, it’s too late. But after Paul was born, I went a month without touching a broom. As I mentioned before, that was much too long.

The problem is that we have a two-story, three-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath town home with hardwood floors the size of Kentucky. And as I got around to mopping the other day, I saw little ants and a spider’s cobweb.

As Sister Beck said, I need the “skill to make a home that creates a climate for spiritual growth.” Dust and ants hinder that spiritual growth. How can I delight in cleaning as nurturing rather than as a chore? How can I develop the same sense of satisfaction with cleaning that I recently have found with cooking?

Cleaning Up

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I swept and mopped the floor today.

Lest someone think that I have my priorities wrong and remind me that new moms should sleep when baby sleeps, I should clarify that I did take a two-hour nap this morning. And lest someone say being fed and clothed is more important, I should mention that I cooked dinner (leftovers!) and did five loads of laundry yesterday. And lest the grandmas complain, I posted a picture of Paul on the website first. Then I swept the floor.

Don’t be impressed. It has been swept twice since I came home from the hospital. And the first time I cut corners.

The things I learned:

A hardwood floor the size of Kentucky needs to swept every day.
When I have another child (I suppose I should say “if”, but who am I kidding?), I’m hiring a maid service for a month.

In defense of my husband: He is much cleaner than I am and is very good about chipping in and keeping things clean. However, he took off a week of work when Paul was born. It was just before a major project went live. Now he’s working long hours to make up for taking time off. Besides, I want him to hold his son once he comes home! And he doesn’t get a nap during the day like I do.

In defense of my friends: They offered to clean, but I am not yet willing to ask a friend to clean up my dust. And I wasn’t yet willing to give up my newborn to them so I could clean. I cherished week 2: I held my newborn just about every minute during the day and didn’t have to share him with anyone. I’m very sad that I’ll probably never get to do that again with a newborn bundle of joy.

The bottom line is, I’m starting to feel like I have control of this Being a Mother Thing, so it’s time I take care of the house too. I suppose tomorrow may feel like chaos again. But the messy house is very out of control, and today I’m feeling ready to take charge.

On to vacuuming! Oh wait, Paul’s crying. Maybe later….

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Thoughts on womanhood and motherhood