Chores Chat

The original subject line of this post was simply “Chores,” but adding “Chat” really takes it from drudgey to cheerful doesn’t it? No? Just me?

It is a dreary, chilly morning, which feels like a betrayal after the sunny warmth of the past few days. I was awake off and on during the night due to horrible nightmares involving my loved ones. I have to go renew my driver’s license, which is on the Top Five list of Things I Enjoy Only Slightly More Than Dental Work. Plus, I have postponed Bathroom Cleaning Monday for no reason at all beyond my absolute gut-twisting hatred of cleaning the shower, and it can be postponed no more.

When we are feeling so dreary, what better topic to tip us right over the edge cheer us is housecleaning?

I scrubbed the floors yesterday, which is a very satisfying chore. My back hurts a bit, though, and I think I once again have chemical burns on my fingers from the bleach, will I ever learn, which is both painful and also somehow apt. “Satisfying” is, of course, a far cry from “enjoyable.” I am trying to think about whether there are any chores I ENJOY. (Are there any chores YOU enjoy?) I suppose I enjoy the results when I clean the kitchen: The gleaming expanse of freshly-scrubbed counters. The shiny reflective surfaces of the stainless steel appliances. Everything ready and waiting for another meal to be made. Which will inevitably upend everything into disaster once again.

My mother was telling me recently about her own mother’s cleaning schedule. Every month they would deep clean the kitchen, which involved emptying out all the cupboards and drawers and scouring them with Murphy’s Oil Soap. EVERY MONTH. I do this… quarterly, maybe, on a good year? Is that horrifying? How often do you do EMPTY your cabinets and wipe them down, inside and out? While we’re at it, how often do you empty your refrigerator and scrub the inside of THAT? I do it far less frequently than I should, even though I have no idea what the Ideal Refrigerator Cleaning Frequency even is. There is possibly some sort of checklist available online, that would tell me exactly what to do when, but I don’t care to be bossed. I will instead remain fretful and slovenly, thank you very much.

Everything I know about cleaning, I learned from my mother. Well, that’s not entirely fair: I learned about dish washing from my father. And about scouring the sink with Soft Scrub. But everything else was my mother’s domain. She was much better about sticking to a strict housecleaning schedule than I am; see above RE: the bathroom cleansing delay. We cleaned the whole house every Saturday. I remember being awakened by the sound of the vacuum. My job was a) cleaning my room and b) dusting. (I also did most of the dishes on the daily, and did my own laundry and ironing. I REFUSE to iron as an adult, but as a middle schooler I ironed my Z-Cavaricci jeans. The heart wants what it wants.)

At some point, I did learn how to scrub a bathroom as well, so I’m sure I helped with that on Cleaning Saturdays. I don’t mind cleaning a toilet, really. And there’s nothing difficult or daunting about wiping down a counter (for me, I recognize and support those for whom it is either or both). By the way, my very best (only?) cleaning tip is to keep a toilet scrubber in EVERY BATHROOM. And if your bathrooms have cabinets, keep a container of toilet cleaner, 409, and a roll of paper towels in each bathroom as well. That way, even if your cleaning supplies are all the way in the laundry room, or you aren’t in the mood to do a Full Cleaning, you can do a quick spot clean and still feel accomplished and virtuous. Hot tips like this keep you coming back, I just know it.

My mother used Endust on a rag to do her dusting, so I also use Endust on a rag to do my own dusting. Swiffer dusters were not available back then, and, frankly, are hugely wasteful although I do still use them on occasion.  I have a Swiffer-style sweeper with reusable pads for the floors. We had hardwood floors in the kitchen, so my mother never scrubbed the grout (no grout to be had). But she did use some sort of Pledge-type liquid to mop the floors until they shone. I use Mr. Clean on my hardwood floors because a housekeeper requested it specifically, and then I kept buying it whenever it was on sale, and now we have more Mr. Clean than any one person should. Bleach is my best friend in the bathrooms, and when it comes to cleaning the grout. I like vinegar and baking soda – or baking soda and Dawn – when it comes to cleaning my sinks. I love 409 for counter tops. Who knew adulthood would mean amassing so many Preferred Cleaning Items?

I suppose How to Properly Clean a House is an important life lesson for a child, and sometimes I fret (because I will literally fret about anything) about whether I am On Track in teaching Carla how to keep a house. What kinds of cleaning chores do your kids do? Or, if you don’t have kids, what were your housecleaning responsibilities as a child? 

Carla’s main jobs are tidying: She must make her bed every morning. She must clean her room once a week. She must pick up any toys she leaves out, although this is a moving target; right now, for instance, there is a bunch of play-doh and various play-doh tools out on the kitchen table, which shows you both how good I am at enforcing her tidying responsibilities and how often we eat together at the table. 

I also have Carla zoop the floors on occasion. Most of the kitchen debris comes from her (at what age do children stop shedding crumbs?), so it seems only fair that she help dispose of it. She also has to clear, rinse, and place her breakfast and dinner dishes. And, if we eat together, she clears, rinses, and places ALL the dishes. This is a very pleasing improvement in her Skills and Abilities, now that she is seven. She is responsible for putting away her folded laundry. Sometimes, if she is in The Right Mood, she will help me dust. I especially appreciate her dusting skills when it comes to wiping down the banister and stairwell baseboards.

When I was a kid, I also had to clean out the barn. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed that chore. I would crank up the country radio station and get out a big, stiff-bristled broom, a shovel, and a wheelbarrow, and remove all the manure from the barn to the shelter belt. Talk about a satisfying chore. You had the pleasure of not only seeing something go from filthy to clean, but also the satisfaction of pleasingly sore muscles. And it was nice to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. The horses did not enjoy it as much, sometimes nudging over the wheelbarrow in defiance or pushing past me to dirty the newly cleaned floor with an abundance of scorn. 

My husband does most of the vacuuming, and he takes care of the bathroom floors. (He can vacuum the entire house and clean all the bathroom floors before I finish cleaning the kitchen.) (I suspect that he does not move the furniture to vacuum under it, but one can only ask for so much.) (He will vacuum under the couch cushions if I remind him.) He also does the VAST MAJORITY of the laundry folding, for which I am deeply grateful. I excel at washing clothes, and sometimes even putting them in the dryer, and sometimes even moving the clean, dry clothes up to the laundry room guest room. But unless I am VIGILANT about folding the clothes immediately, I grow overwhelmed and dizzy and choose to shut the door on the ever-growing pile until it threatens to take over the house or my daughter runs out of underwear, whichever comes first. My husband, on the other hand, is never daunted by a mountainous tangle of clothes. He LIKES to fold, and listens to music while doing so, and it takes him SUCH a short time I think he is a magician every time he does it. He is also very good at the mechanics of folding: his shirts are always creased just so and identical in size, a feat I have never been able to master. 

Folding laundry is one thing. But my most hated chore, by far, is cleaning the shower. It requires scrubbing, which is physically draining. Plus, since it’s a small shower with a sliding glass door, it requires some bodily contortions that I don’t love. Plus, rinsing the shower always results in my shirt and socks becoming completely sodden. Plus, it is impossible to get every single bit of either the doors or the track on which they slide fully clean. PLUS I cannot handle hair in a drain. I JUST CANNOT HANDLE IT. Hair on a head, fine. Hair anywhere else, I will pass out or throw up or both.

Well, I had hoped that talking about chores would get me all fired up to go do some cleaning. It has not had that effect. Perhaps you will share what your favorite/most hated chores are, and/or what the breakdown of chores is in your househould, and/or your Hot Tips for cleaning. In the meantime, I am going to trudge up to the bathroom anyway and see if I can clean the shower without getting totally soaked.

From the Floor: Dispatches While Cleaning Grout

9:30 a.m. Decide to take a “break” from work to clean up after the party.

 

Might as well do some laundry. Toss a load in the washer.

 

Begin in the kitchen.

 

Move all the chairs out of the kitchen.

 

Swiffer the floor with a dry washable cloth.

 

Vacuum up all the thousand little bits of leaf and chip crumbs and lettuce shred and assorted detritus that 12 adults and five children track in and out over the course of six (!) hours.

Grout Before 0

De-messified de-detritused floor.

Throw the wet clothes in the dryer.

 

Swiffer the floor with a wet disposable cloth.

 

Assorted other cleaning. Might as well do some more laundry. Fold the dryer load. Start a new load of sheets to soak in Oxy.

 

10:00 a.m. Hmmm. Is my grout really as dirty as I think it is? Would it really be that difficult to clean the grout?

 

Choose a small section of tile near the garage door. A “high traffic” area.

 

Assemble scrubber brush, Target brand bleach spray, elbow grease.

 

Oh my god how have we been living like this.

 

There is a Significant Difference between “dirty grout” and “cleaner grout.”

 

Sit back to admire small patch of cleaner grout.

Grout Before 1

HOW HAVE WE BEEN LIVING LIKE THIS.

Oh no. Now there is such a stark difference between the cleaner patch and the rest of the kitchen I HAVE TO clean the rest of the grout.

 

Also, turns out that scrubbing the grout doesn’t eliminate the dirt. It merely removes it from the grout and spreads it in a sickly grey puddle across the rest of the floor.

 

So: Additional supplies. Bucket of clean water, sponge, washcloth.

 

10:10 a.m. Decide that this project necessitates a plan, or I am going to end up in a remote corner of the kitchen with no way to escape lest I step on the freshly cleaned floor and RUIN MY EFFORT.

 

Begin at the far end of the kitchen by the laundry room.

 

Geez, this grout is dirty.

 

And wow, so are the baseboards.

 

When was the last time I cleaned the baseboards? Maybe if I just use the sponge to…

 

And look at the pantry doors. Filthy! What if I just scrub a little of the…

 

FOCUS ON THE PROBLEM AT HAND.

 

Scrub the grout, wipe clean with the sponge. Scrub the grout, wipe clean with the sponge.

 

10:19 a.m. Okay, am done with the little hallway. Let’s see how long it takes to do the next section, and then I can estimate how long this entire project will take.

 

Scrub the grout, wipe clean with the sponge. Scrub the grout, wipe clean with the sponge.

 

Oh geez, the sponge is starting to shed little blue spongelets. Do I need to get a new sponge? I CANNOT. The extra sponges are conveniently located in the laundry room, which is now down a sparkly clean and wet hallway.

 

No matter! The spongelets will surely dry and I can vacuum them up later!

 

How in the name of cheesy nachos have I been living in a house with such filth? I mean, I’m not what one might call “tidy” but I am definitely what one might call “germ averse” and I kind of always thought that translated into “clean.”

 

Oh, how I love bleach. I don’t use it nearly enough.

 

This is hard work. I think I am developing a blister on my scrubbing hand.

 

Why didn’t I do this BEFORE we had a bunch of people over?

 

I wonder if they are all exchanging furtive phone calls this morning: “She’s a nice lady and everything but did you see that grout?”

 

Crouching is not an intuitive posture.

 

Wow, my husband is going to be so impressed when he comes home and sees how sparkly this kitchen is.

 

This is taking forever. I have been doing this forever.

 

My husband BETTER be impressed. The first words out of his mouth better be, “Wow, this floor looks AMAZING.”

Is there a Roomba for this?

 

My hands are starting to feel… odd. A little tingly. Should I have perhaps worn gloves?

 

This is taking FOREVER. Despair is setting in. I have not even finished a QUARTER of the kitchen, and already it is lunchtime.

 

What am I going to eat for lunch? Obviously I will eat potato chips leftover from the party.

 

Okay, I am FINALLY DONE with this section of the floor. Probably an eighth of the entire kitchen. I am going to be doing this for the next twenty years. Time check:

 

10:29 a.m. Oh wow. That didn’t really take that long. But it felt like forevvvveeerrrrrr.

 

Can I give up? I can totally give up. A small section of floor that is now clean is better than not having done anything.

Grout Before + After 2

No choice but to keep going until the bitter end.

But… Look at the Dramatic Difference. It will be 100% clear that I just gave up. BAH.

 

More scrubbing. Is the bleach spray losing its efficacy? Am I scrubbing less heartedly? Heartily? Half-heartedly?

 

Wow, our floor is really scuffed up.

 

Hmmm. Some of those “scuffs” seem to be old-banana-turned-floor-adhesive. GONE.

 

Why oh why did I ever begin this stupid project? I WAS BETTER OFF NOT KNOWING JUST HOW GROSS THIS WAS.

 

Oh. No.

 

I am going to have to do this again in the future.

 

How often do people scrub their grout? Is this, like, a weekly thing? Monthly? Probably more often than “never,” though.

 

Okay, my finger is distinctly numb now. I probably have some bleach-related neuropathy that will leave me permanently tingly in my pointer finger. GREAT.

 

Everyone who visits my house from now on had better comment on how great my floors look.

 

11:00 a.m. Okay! I have reached the Quarter Floor mark! Time for lunch!

 

— Long break during which I eat, do some writing —

1:30 p.m. Time to resume. Let’s knock this thing out!

 

This time I will wear gloves. The only thing I can find are some gardening gloves that are… not waterproof.

 

Better than nothing! This is apparently my motto now!

 

Scrub the grout, wipe clean with the sponge.

 

Man, the clean grout doesn’t look AS CLEAN as I’d anticipated. It’s still a little greyish.

Grout After 3

This grout is ALL SCRUBBED. Even though it doesn’t really look like it.

NO MATTER. Let’s not dwell on that.

 

The water bucket seems to be getting grimier than it did earlier.

 

Should I be wearing a mask or something? Or opening windows? Breathing in all this bleach spray can’t be that good for me.

 

“Whatever happened to your beautiful, brilliant mother, Carla?” “Oh, it’s terribly sad. She ruined her lungs and fingers with bleach spray in a 2016 tragedy.” “I’m so sorry to hear that.” “Yes, truly devastating. But I have grown up with such a deep admiration for her dedication to clean living. Her motivations were pure.”

 

Why is there so much HAIR on my floor? How is it that my husband and daughter and I aren’t completely bald?

 

All visitors must immediately comment on how clean and beautiful my floor is or my life is worth nothing.

 

It doesn’t really LOOK LIKE it’s that clean, but IT IS.

Grout After 1

IT IS.

I vow from this day forth to heap effusive praise on my friends for their beautiful kitchen floors.

 

3:00 p.m. Finally all the grout has been scrubbed and sponged clean.

 

Now, a once-over with the wet disposable Swiffer cloths.

 

The floor looks remarkably similar to how it did before all this work.

Grout After 2

I swear I spent three hours scrubbing this floor. IT IS CLEAN.

— LESSONS LEARNED —

 

  1. Don’t even bother to clean your grout.
  2. If you do, it’s pretty satisfying in terms of cleaning projects. You can SEE the difference as you go, and it’s hard and physical. If I had Mad Feelings to work through, it would have been even better.
  3. I am 100% certain it counts as a High Intensity Workout, what with all the crouching and the vigorous scrubbing and the gripping of the scrub brush.
  4. As soon as some sort of Monetary Windfall drops our way (I am not anticipating such, but a girl can dream) I am going to replace all of this horrid tile with beautiful, easy-to-clean hardwood.
  5. OH CRAP. All three bathrooms are tiled in this same tile, and now I need to clean THAT grout.

 

It smells much too enthusiastically of bleach in here. I am going to go take a shower.

GRATIFYING UPDATE: My husband not only noticed the floor, he kept commenting on it! He must have marveled at how clean it was a good three or four times. Am very smug. Despite the fact that the inside of my nose now permanently smells like bleach.