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Posts Tagged ‘Household Chores’

In the almost 5 years I’ve been blogging there is one recurring topic that I can’t quite seem to stay away from.    In case you’re a new reader I’ll share just a few posts with you (HERE, HERE , HERE & HERE)

 

Most people dislike 4 letter words but me, nope, I like a lot of 4 letter words. … words like Love, Food, Hugs & Beer (and probably too often, just about all of those 4 letter words that are incredibly inappropriate in mixed company – yep, I have a mouth like a sailor!).  It’s generally the 6 letter words that I hate.. words like, crumbs, chores, toilet,  but there is one word that can top them all….the ever-so-dreaded 7 letter word that I quite simply, just despise – LAUNDRY.

 

I hate every aspect of it.

I hate the piles of dirty laundry in the closet.  The piles of dirty laundry in the bathroom.  The piles of dirty laundry next to the bed.

I hate the sorting.

I hate the process of carrying 6 baskets of dirty laundry to the basement.

I hate dirty towels.

I hate dirty sheets.

(I hate that I’m the only one who recognizes that linens actually need laundering….)

I hate remembering that I have clothes in the dryer before they become a crumbled mess.

I hate the absurd missing sock conundrum (which has apparently extended to actual toddler clothes – since I never seem to get out what I put in)

I hate the countless hours on any given weekend where laundry looms just underneath the surface and permeates just about anything we do.

I hate the weight of the laundry as it pushes down on my shoulders if I should opt to focus on any other activity (besides laundry) during a weekend.

I hate, Hate, HATE folding all the clean laundry.

And, I hate putting all the clean laundry away.  (or leaving it to be put away on the bed only to find that hubby has moved piles of it to the dresser and will live like this for the next 2 weeks – but that’s an entirely different blog post)

 

But the one thing that I don’t HATE (or at least not in the way I hate everything noted above) is the need to flip inside out laundry to be right side out.  I know this is the nemesis of Mom’s around the world.  And I know that many a woman has instilled a laundry rule… that you get back laundry exactly-the-way you put your laundry into the basket (assuming it makes it into a basket).  And, perhaps, when my toddler becomes a teen, I will be instituting this exact same rule (ok – it’s likely I probably will) BUT, for now.. this has never been a huge deal to me.   If I take a moment to self-analyze I think it’s because I hate the laundry folding process so much already, that there’s virtually no way to make it worse for me.  Inside out – Or right-side-out  folding… they both pretty much suck!  So, while I may grumble under my breath as I flip t-shirts to be right-side-out… I’m grumbling because I’m folding laundry… not because 50% of the load is inside out.

 

Which makes where I’m headed below highly humorous to me.

 

2 weeks ago hubby did a load of laundry.  WHAT??  You may be saying……  So, I’ll say it again.  Hubby did a load of laundry.   Trust me when I tell you, I’m more surprised than you are.  It probably only happened because he ran out of underwear.  And, after an interesting recent conversation, about the under-wearing habits of most men… he was probably guilted into doing a load.

 

Anyhow… after he folded his basket of laundry he decides to take a dig at me.. or, perhaps from his point of view, he decides to “point something out to me”.

 

Hubby: “Hey hon, do you know that a ton of your shirts were inside out”

Me:  “Uhhh… hmmmm..”

Hubby:  “I just wanted to let you know….”

Me:  “You did….. Huh?”

Hubby:  “Yes.  You know, it makes this task even worse when I have to right-side-out every t-shirt”

Me:  “It does, does it?”  trying to wrack my brain for the last time he did any laundry

Hubby:  “Yes.  Maybe you could take them off right-side-out before you put them into the basket?”

Me:  wondering the last time he even put clothes ‘in the basket’ “You know, most of your t-shirts are usually inside out”

Hubby:  “No they’re not”

Me:   “Hon, I hate to break this to you but you’re mistaken… almost all of your shirts are inside out”

Hubby:  “I’m positive that you’re wrong.   I’ve always been good at taking them off right-side-out.. because my Mom had a rule growing up that if you didn’t she would fold them inside out”

Me:  “ Really…. All your life you’ve been good at making sure they’re not inside out.”

Hubby: “Yep.”

 

And I just let this conversation die… in the midst of the inaccuracies in which it was becoming increasingly buried.

 

Last weekend things were “back to normal” and I did laundry.

 

As I folded the laundry, I counted the total # of hubby’s shirts…. There were 17 in total.

 

Hubby came inside from doing some yard work.

 

Me:  “Hey babe… I would never normally do this but……”

Hubby:  “Yeah?”

Me:  “Remember last week when you so graciously pointed out that I didn’t right-side-out my t-shirts?”

Hubby:  “Yes?”

Me: “Remember how you so matter-of-factly told me that you never put inside out t-shirts into the hamper?”

Hubby:  “Yep!”

Me:  “Well, I did laundry today”

Hubby “Ok….”

Me:  “And again, I would never be pointing this out if you hadn’t opened the door to this conversation……”

Hubby:  blank stare

Me:  “Well, I counted your t-shirts… there were 17 of them.”

Hubby:  “Ok”

Me:  “Do you want to know how many were inside out?”

Hubby: “I’m not sure….. Do I?”

Me: “You do.  It was TWELVE of them”

Hubby:  silence………………………..

Me: “I just feel the need to remind you again….. I have done 16,928 loads of your laundry (give or take).  And, I’ve never complained about having to right-side-out your shirts”

Hubby:  more silence……………

Hubby: “ I’m sorry.  I will try to be better”

Me:  “I honestly don’t care…. But I’m sure your Mom would be very disappointed in you.”

Hubby:  “Hmmmmmm”

 

And there you have it my dear readers……………….I will let you know how the next load of laundry goes!

 

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Wow…. You know how sometimes you blink and you’ve lost like a month of your life?  Well, that’s me right now.  I’m short staffed at work which is slowly and painfully killing me and then add to that a cute little munchkin to take care of (ok, 2 munchkins if you count hubby – who arguably is less cute, although cute in his own right….) and I have no idea where my time goes.

 

What I do know is that the tasks that used to not get done at my house because of hubby’s inability to commit (or at least align) with my timelines now take even L O N G E R…. if you can possibly imagine that.   And longer means that Christmas bags filled with gifts are still sitting in my bedroom (read HERE), laundry baskets filled with clean clothes NEVER get emptied.  A picture that I put on the side of our bathroom to get hung (oh say, about 6 months ago) still knowingly winks at me – from the floor  – every time I take a shower.    I remember a day when blogging somehow inadvertently led to action… or at least considered action by hubby.  But maybe because we’re both so busy.. and tired…. and busy…. and MORE tired and I can’t find time to blog, it’s not easy to subtlety put things on hubby’s radar.

 

But alas, all this really means is that the fairies have needed to kick into overdrive.

 

And by fairies….. (contrary to hubby’s perspective)…. I mean ME!

 

Take this example.

 

It’s allergy season at our house… which sucks!  If you don’t have seasonal allergies consider yourself incredibly lucky because it’s almost impossible to communicate how much it truly blows.  The sniffling, sneezing, nose blowing, medicine swallowing, windows open/closed debates that happen on a daily basis at our house are ridiculous.  We have loaded up on tissues and Allegra D and nasal spray and umpteen other remedies so we can try to make it through this season with minimal discomfort.

 

So, I’m in the kitchen the other day and I go to the counter to get a tissue….. but…………. The tissue box is no longer there.  Shocking, I know.

 

So, I go to the bathroom to blow my nose… thinking to myself…. “Self, don’t replace the tissues.  Hubby used the last one.  He will undoubtedly need more.  He will replace the box that he emptied.”  And then the part of me that lives in reality said …. “Self, you’re delusional.  Replace the tissues.  You will absolutely need another tissue long before that box gets replaced.”   And then the hopeful side of me responded…. “No.  He’s going to prove you wrong.  He WILL replace the tissues”

 

And then, like 4 days passed.   No tissues.

 

And every dang time I walked to the counter…. forgetting that there are no tissues there, I curse under my breath as I reach into thin air grasping for a non-existent tissue box.

 

And then, one day hubby was standing in the kitchen as I walked to the counter for a tissue (apparently I’m not good at un-training myself).  But this time, rather than silently have a conversation in my head I decided to talk to our son.   “Mini-hubby” I said, “When you get older, please, oh please, make sure you learn how to do things like this for the people around you.  Daddy doesn’t care that mommy has snot running down her face……”    And hubby, who is obviously listening, perks up and says…. “Oh, there’s no tissues?”.   “No honey, there’s no tissues…. Because you emptied them days ago and didn’t get a new box”.

 

With a straight face hubby responds….. “But tissues replace themselves, I don’t understand why there not there?”  “Uhm, no hubby, tissues actually don’t replace themselves”.  I sigh a long sigh….. “Fairies??”  he asks, seemingly perplexed.  “Nope, the fairies don’t do it either”.  “Hmmmmm…..” he thinks for a moment (you can see the wheels turning in his head).   Then he comes to a brilliant conclusion.   “I will get new tissues”  he declares.  And then, without skipping a beat he asks me….. “where do we keep the tissues???”

 

(We’ve lived in this house for 8 years.  The extra tissues have had the same storage spot for 8 years.  Hubby has no idea where that storage spot is)

And that your honor, is why I had to kill him.

 

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I hate washing dishes…..

 

Not nearly as much as I hate washing floors, but I do harbor a pretty strong distaste for this particular chore.    And we do have a dishwasher, so it’s not like there are a ton of dishes that need hand washing but, in my opinion, even 1 pan or  1 Tupperware container is too much.    Thankfully most items make their way to the dishwasher (thank god we have one of these or I might be using disposable pot & pans)  But regardless this is a task that I despise…………….

 

Now, if they’d only make an automatic floor mopping device, we’d be in good shape…. But, I digress…………….

 

Anyhow, this particular chore aversion has always been lessened by the fact that hubby doesn’t mind doing this chore.  Now don’t misunderstand, he doesn’t like it, but he does like playing with water (like any child) and he does like to eat – and he DOESN’T like to cook – so, the natural progression was for him to take on the bulk of hand washing dishes, when necessary.  And, they lived happily ever after.

 

UNTIL

 

The baby arrived.

 

As you may know, babies are messy.  There’s more laundry than I ever imagined could come from the addition of one tiny human.   And consequently, there’s a heck of a lot more dirty items in general.  One item in particular is bottles.   It’s amazing how quickly they multiply in our sink, and if you blink too quickly, you may have 6 bottles at the end of the day…. And there they sit; all beckoning, and taunting, and giggling amongst themselves at all they work they have in store for you.

This is only 2 bottles!

This is only 2 bottles!

You see, like any clueless new parents, we wound up with bottles that have like 426 different tiny pieces that all must be assembled, in puzzle like fashion, to come together to prevent excess gas intake, or maybe it’s to improve baby IQ, or perhaps solve global warming.  Ok, I’m not really sure why there are so many dang pieces.  But what I AM sure of, is that cleaning these mother f’ers is a royal pain in my posterior region (and just for the record, these are Dr. Brown’s bottles -and they DO work, even though I’d pay millions of dollars for a full-time bottle washer).     Each tiny, individual, piece must be disassembled, washed, brushed, poked, scrubbed and violated in a way that only long tubular bottle pieces can, to ensure they are clean for our little one.   And, my friends, these puppies can’t go in the dishwasher.  I mean, sure, they can in fact go in the dishwasher but…. once you take them out of the dishwasher, you have to put them back into the sink to clean them.   Cause, with all the contraptions they sell to help make bottles dishwasher-cleanable… the only thing that really works is a bit of elbow grease, some pruny hands and about 4 hours in front of the sink.  Not to mention the day when I tried to wash them in the dishwasher and the bottles all came out with a nice orange-y, reddish hue.  Thank you Mr. Marinara sauce.

 

So, this brings me to the “meat” of my blog post.  What you just read was really just the back story.  And, you were wondering up to this point….. why the heck is she talking so much about baby bottles????  So, stay with me people.

 

As I mentioned earlier, hubby is our in-house dishwasher.  That is of course until the baby arrived – since bottle washing is so daunting – I’ve had to suck it up and wash bottles……… which, in case you were wondering, I still despise!  And, in case you missed it, I will remind you again… washing bottles SUCKS and takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r.   So hubby, in his infinite wisdom, says to me.  “Do ya think you could buy us a kitchen mat to stand on while we wash dishes for 6 hours a day?”  And being the loving wife I am, I respond “Why yes hubby, I certainly can”.  And then off I went to help give us comfy place to stand in front of the sink.    And, if I do say so myself, I found a rockin’ kitchen mat – if you can, in fact, use that sort of terminology to describe a kitchen mat.

"The best thing to ever set foot on!"

“The best thing to ever set foot on!”

This mat is cushy, cozy, comfy and maybe even kick-ass (I was going for another “c” word there – but I ran out of adjectives).  You see, the mat is made of memory foam, and when you stand on it, your feet just melt into it and are nicely cushioned to provide some otherwise not-so-present-comforts, for your tiny toes, while you stand in front of the sink and work your way through your 300th bottle part.  So, this mat sat in place for a day or so before hubby assumed the position to tackle the day’s chore.  And, when he stepped on to the mat, his toes began singing, his lower back started smiling and his mouth started saying….. “holy crap, this is the best thing I’ve ever stood on!!”  And then, in true hubby fashion, he needed to expound on his statement with some of the following:

 

“My feet have never been so happy”

“Why don’t they make shoes out of this material?”

“Every floor, everywhere, should be made of this stuff!”

“This is seriously the best thing I’ve ever felt on my feet!!”

“I’m never moving out of this spot”

 

And finally…. “ We need these mats ALL OVER the house”

 

What he doesn’t realize is that I’d NEVER put that material all over the house…….

I have him right where I want him.  In front of the sink, poised to wash bottles, and never wanting to move.   I’m not nearly as dumb as I look…………………and perhaps, with a little luck,  some incredibly comfy feet, and an equally happy hubby……….. I’ll never have to wash a bottle, ever again!  :-)

 

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It’s Springtime. The birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming and yep, it’s raining.  This should be the time of year where you start stowing away your winter clothes and transitioning your drawers to bathing suits and shorts but this year it’s been oddly cold.  And, given the mild winter we had, is pretty dang annoying.

 

BUT, you know what else is more dang annoying?

 

The fact that both my kitchen & dining room tables have been showcasing their multitasking ability as coat closets for WAY too long.

 

Here’s the kitchen.

Please note the one coat dangling on the floor……  And please also note, the repair kit for the lawn mower that’s been sitting on the table for upwards of 2 weeks now.

 

Here’s the dining room.

Yes, that’s 2 more of hubby’s coats.  Resting peacefully until the next time they might be needed.

 

Much like the mind-boggling phenomenon of passing the dishwasher to put dirty dishes into the sink OR the mystifying 1/2 job of putting items on top of the counter, above the drawer where they belong OR the difficult task of placing empty soda cans into the trash,  hubby must walk at least 15 feet past our coat closet to put his coats on these chairs.  And then, they seem to live there for the season.  Even when I finally cave and put them away, while cleaning for the cleaning lady, they eventually find their way back to the chairs.  It’s a never-ending, no-win, battle for me.

 

I can’t wait until it’s warm enough to put the coats away for good…. at least I’ll have coat-free tables for about 4-5 months!!!

 

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Well, it’s almost officially Springtime again.  The time when you look around your house and think about cleaning, purging & organizing.  The time when you look around your yard and discuss shrubbery, weeding & mulch.  It’s also the time when the man in your life realize that his “chores” for the year are about to begin since he’s been slumbering and hibernating all winter as you continued to mop floors, clean toilets and wipe whiskers out of the sink.  As I’ve mentioned before, men’s chores are seemingly seasonal… they last for about 4-5 months when the grass needs to be mowed and then they must rest for 7-8 months from all their hard work.

 

So…. instead of rejoicing the new season and celebrating the opportunity to start anew they start grumbling about all the work that lies ahead of them.

 

I even made the mistake of mentioning a possible yard sale for the Spring and hubby’s response was simply….. “you really must hate me, huh?!”  (and, if you don’t remember what a debacle the last yard sale was please read HERE or HERE).

 

My mind is already whirling with all the activities we should do.    I have one weekend reserved for cleaning out the garage.  I have another weekend mentally booked to build a new gazebo at our pool.  Then there’s the closet purging, and the planting of flowers,  power washing the house, and (DEEP BREATH) shopping for a patio set, shopping for plants, shopping for other stuff we might need, that I’m unaware of right now.

 

You want to know what’s on Hubby’s list.   Motorcycle rides, beer consumption, tv watching, motorcycle tinkering, more alcohol consumption and even longer motorcycle rides.

 

You may be concerned that our agendas clearly don’t align.    That’s because I’m an evil, evil, woman who wants nothing more than to “ruin every free moment with chores”.  Yep, that’s me…..  a Life Ruiner.  A slave-driving, chore-master who doesn’t understand that a household chore can be delayed for WEEKS if the weather is nice enough for a motorcycle ride.

 

Silly, silly me.

 

It never ceases to amaze me that men can cling so vehemently to their carefree, responsibility-free youth, that they miss the fact that they’ve grown into adults while they weren’t looking.  Surprise boys…  You can’t own a (clean) home, have a (happy) family and not look like the trashy neighbor if all you want to do is ride on your big wheel with your buddies.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, hubby will likely tackle many of these projects with me…. some he may even take on himself, but I guarantee that it won’t be without it’s share of whining, pouting, feet stomping and perhaps even a bit of silent treatment.  So as the season’s change, two other things seem to change as well;  Hubby changes into a cranky little boy who’s favorite toy has been taken from him until he cleans his room.  And I change into a wifely “mom” who obviously takes immense pleasure in “taking away” all the fun in his life.

 

Ahhhhh….. I just love the Springtime!

 

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Hopefully you all enjoyed your Valentine’s Day.   Hubby & I had a very enjoyable evening where we both learned a few things.

 

  • Hubby learned that he can actually take on new tasks if he puts his mind to it. 
  • He learned that he has kitchen skills that he believed to be nonexistent 
  • He learned that it really is quite simple to make me happy…………….

 AND 

  

You see, my one request for Valentine’s Day, was that hubby cook me dinner.    I think in our 10 years of being together this has happened maybe 3 times.  Now, hubby will likely dispute this by quoting the times where he boiled pasta noodles and opened a jar of sauce.  Or the times where he took frozen taquitos out of the freezer and placed them in the toaster oven.   I, on the other hand, consider “making dinner” to encompass some sort of fresh ingredients being placed in a pan or an oven and combined to create a meal with multiple food groups.    Obviously we may not agree on the definition of cooking but I digress……………

 

Anyhow, hubby scoured the internet for a recipe, he went to the grocery store and bought all the necessary ingredients and then…. ALL BY HIMSELF…. he whipped up a fantastic meal.  We dined on chicken breasts stuffed with spinach, garlic, pine nuts & raisins, finished with a balsamic,dijon drizzle and accompanied by steamed broccoli, zucchini and cous cous.   It was AWESOME!  And I can honestly say he did it without asking me 900 questions.  He found the pans by himself, he sautéed, steamed & baked by himself.  He even cleaned up the kitchen afterwards.   It was almost like I traded in my hubby and got a loaner for Valentine’s Day!   Let’s just say I was a very happy wife!

 

As I mentioned, I think we both learned a lot yesterday….

 

I learned that I truly do have a wonderful husband….. even though sometimes, he’s deserving of a smack in the head.    He (hopefully) learned the pleasure of cooking dinner for your wife……….

 

AND, beyond all that,  I have to say that I probably learned something far more important than anything that hubby learned.

 

I learned that he’s full of BS when he tells me there’s something he “can’t do”.    Thanks again hubby…… now, What’s for dinner?

 

On a slightly separate note, I found the perfect Valentine’s Day card for hubby that I couldn’t help but share with you all.   Inside it says “Honey, it’s the little things you do that make me love you”

 

 

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Did you ever send your husband/boyfriend to the grocery store and wonder why you’d subject yourself to such torture?

 

This seems to be one of those things that gets filed under immediately-forget-how-bad-it-was-until-you-ask-him-to-do-it-again.

 

Whatever could I be referring to????

 

Well, imagine this.  I meticulously make a list of items we need from the store.  Hubby graciously (after some grumbling, much whining, and perhaps a few threats from me) agrees to run to the supermarket.   I’m thrilled, we are dividing and conquering.  We are working as a team.  I have just gained about an hour to focus on laundry, bills, cleaning.   HOORAY!! I can cross food shopping off my list… or can I?

 

It’s not a full “shop”.. it’s just a short list of maybe 15 items that we’ll need for the upcoming week.  Off he goes…..

 

Maybe 10 minutes later the phone rings….

 

Hubby:  “Hon, this parking lot sucks..  I hate this place.  There are morons everywhere”

Me:  “Yeah babe, I know the grocery store sort of sucks on the weekends…”

 

I go back to folding laundry………… 

Ring… Ring… Ring…..

 

Me:  “Hi Babe.. what’s up?”

Hubby:  “You wrote down peppers”

Me: “Yeah?”

Hubby:  “What kind of peppers?”

Me: “Seriously?”

Hubby:  “Yeah, I want to make sure I get the right stuff..”

Me: “You mean the ‘right stuff’ to make the fajitas that we eat ALL-THE-TIME?”

Hubby: “Yeah”

Me:  “I can’t believe you don’t know what sort of peppers we eat.  Red & green bell peppers, Hon”

Hubby:  “Ok, thanks!!”

 

I pick up the same shirt and continue folding…… 

Ring… Ring… Ring….. (barely 2 minutes have passed)

 

Me: “Hello……….”

Hubby:  “Hi.  The women here are crazy… some lady almost rolled me over with her cart”

Me:  “Uhmmm..Ok……”

Hubby: “Where would I find brown sugar”

Me: “The baking aisle”

Hubby: “Ok thanks.”

 

I’m beginning to remember the last time I sent him to the grocery store…………… 

Ring… Ring… Ring….. (here we go again)

 

Me: “Yes dear..”

Hubby:  “They seem to have rearranged the lay out since I was last here….. where are the tissues?”

Me: “They’re in the aisle right after the cleaning supplies and before the crackers”

Hubby:  “No they’re not… I’m standing there now”

Me:  “Well, if you’re standing there and that’s not where they are, and you just said they’ve rearranged the store, how exactly would I know where they put the tissues?”

Hubby:  “Ok, I’ll find them”

 

Yep… it’s all coming back to me……. 

Ring… Ring… Ring….. (this can’t possibly be happening…… again……)

 

Me: “Hi Hon, guess I’m not meant to get laundry done today…”

Hubby:  “Which type of olives do you want?

Me:  “The kind I wrote down”

Hubby:  “You wrote down green olives, but holy crap there are a lot of choices. They have Spanish ones but you can get them with pimento, without pimento, whole, chopped…..”

Me:  “Oh boy”

Hubby:  “What do ya mean, oh boy?”

Me:  “It’s just that this is your 4th call home and I only wrote down like 15 items”

Hubby:  “So, which olives?”

Me: “The ones with pimentos please…”

 

And then, after I hang up, I just sat there and stared at the phone waiting for it to ring again.

 

After a few minutes, it seemed to be safe and I started back on my laundry.

 

Dink – Dink  (that’s my text message alert)

 

The text says “btw, didn’t get any corn on the cob, the women at the bin are insane. just couldn’t do it. sorry”

 

When hubby finally arrives home, he looks harried and exhausted and he blurts out “Please oh please don’t ever send me back there….”

 

And ya know what….. I probably won’t ….. given that I could have done the shopping myself in half the time it took me to coach him from afar.

 

Until of course next time, when I forget how bad this entire experience was and I mistakenly think it will save me time to send hubby out to grab a few items from the store………………..

 

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