The Cult of Clean
Well, I did it. I gave the FlyLady’s hundred-thousand-e-mail-a-day organizational program a whirl. You can read how I did in this week’s issue of the Nashville Scene. The full text of the column is below…
The Cult of Clean
I have this friend whose house is a total mess. Broken crayons and toys litter the floor. Gummy fingerprints are smattered across windows and walls. A thick layer of dust has settled in every corner. Of course, my friend tries very hard to keep things clean, but…
Oh hell, who am I kidding? It’s me. My friend. Is me.
Usually, I try to co-exist peacefully with the grime created by a peanut butter-loving toddler, a chronic coffee spiller and two teen soccer players but when a certain family member tracked dog shit into the house and I nearly had a nervous breakdown, I realized it was time to seek professional help. No, not a maid; that would be too expensive. I needed the FlyLady.
Founded by uber-housewife Marla Cilley, FlyLady (www.flylady.net) is a website designed to help anyone transform her house to permanent company-ready status by following a slew of quick and easy “baby” steps. Dozens of my friends have raved about the program, although one did e-mail me a friendly warning: “Just don’t get sucked into the FlyLady culture. They seem a little Stepfordish in their devotion to her plan.”
Stepfordish! Me? Never! I joined the FlyLady’s e-mail list and awaited further instruction.
It wasn’t long before I received a message directing me to go and shine my sink. “When you get up the next morning, your sink will greet you and a smile will come across your lovely face,” the FlyLady promised. Since I don’t think I’ve smiled in the morning since 2003, the idea sounded good to me. Dutifully, I scrubbed my sink until a hospital patient could eat off it.
The next morning, I came downstairs like a kid on Christmas morning. But when I peered into my sink, soggy cornflakes and coffee stains leered back at me. My 16-year-old and my husband had restored the sink to its former condition before I got even a glimpse of its sunrisey sparkliness. “Slimy, sink-grubbing sloths!” I muttered darkly.
Fortunately, my attention was quickly diverted. Ten e-mails from the FlyLady were blinking on my computer, including FlyLady fan mail, urgings to drink lots of water, and marching orders to spend 15 minutes scrubbing my stove and another 15 minutes throwing away old papers. It was like I was living with my mother again. Only this time, she was trapped in my inbox.
I felt overwhelmed by all of the FlyLady’s instructions, but she said I wasn’t expected to do everything at first. All I really needed to do today was shine my sink! Again! Oh, and one more thing: the next morning, she wanted me to wake up early and get dressed, right down to my lace-up shoes.
Lace-up shoes?! I prickled with indignation. I don’t wear lace-up shoes! Still, I’d made a commitment, and so reluctantly, I got up the next morning, dressed, and hunted in my closet for a pair of damned lace-up shoes. Sliding on my high school Keds, I felt like an extra on The Golden Girls.
The lace-up shoes lasted about five hours on my feet before finding a new home under the sofa. I had failed one of the cornerstones of the FlyLady plan and I could feel her disappointment burning in my esophagus like acid reflux.
In penance, I spent the next few days struggling to follow every one of the FlyLady’s unrelenting e-mails. I scrubbed my countertops. I vacuumed the carpets. I even did the “27-Fling Boogie,” which required me to dance around and sing “Release Me” while filling a bag with 27 throw-away items. When I paused for a FlyLady-mandated break, I realized my house had never been cleaner.
Enjoying my victory, I began signing my e-mails as “FlyBaby Lindsay” and toyed with the idea of buying one of the FlyLady’s sporty denim vests. It was so much more practical than an apron! Plus, it would look really good with my Keds. At the end of the week, I walked by a mirror and swore I saw my grandma blinking back at me. I wasn’t fazed. I had been sucked like a hairball up a vacuum tube into the shiny sink sect of the Cult of FlyLady. And I loved it.
In fact, I might be singing along with the “Feather Duster Shake” on the FlyLady CD right now, if it weren’t for Imogen Heap.
“She’s playing next week at City Hall,” Hubs informed me. “Wanna go?”
“Of course I want to go!” I said incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”
“Well,” he said carefully, “You can’t go looking like that.”
I glanced down at myself. A scrubbing sponge poked out of one denim vest pocket. Beneath it, a trash bag hung on a carabiner from my khaki capris.
Hubs was right. I could be clean or I could be cool, but I couldn’t be both. Shivering at the thought of how close I’d come to clipping Ms. Cheap columns for the rest of my life, I ripped off my denim vest and callously dropped it on my own spotless kitchen floor.
Goodbye, FlyLady. It’s not you. It’s me.
>At least you got off your duff and DID some of the instructions. I read the emails for about 3 days and never left my chair! LOL!
>My response to the bajillion-and-one emails was “You can’t make me.”I think I need to mature out of my oppositional defiant disorder before such a project will work for me.I do know lots of people it has helped, though!
>Priceless. This was a GREAT read!I’m one of those people who invite company over just to force myself to give the house a thorough cleaning. There’s getting the house “straight”, then there’s getting the house “clean”. I keep the house straight.But then again, we painted our house interior with bright, pastel clown colors, so it’s not like we’re real house-conscious anyway.
>The “hip” version of flylady would send out emails saying “time to call Merry Maids”
>Lindsay, have I told you lately that I love you?And your grandma’s pretty sweet, too.I tried flylady two years ago and it worked well, but I found myself threatening my husband things with bizarre things like “if you do that the flylady’s gone.” And the shoe thing…I’m just not a lace up shoe in the house kind of gal.Another bizarre thing: it was during the election, and I wound up in a political debate with the flylady. She was very gracious, but come on, it was the flylady.What’s up with the zillion e-mails anyway. Talk about clutter, Marcia. Clutter in the inbox ain’t a good thing.But I had all this extra time…..so I started blogging.You know the rest of the story.
>Who is Dave Ramsey?
>I’m going to have to give this a whirl. With all the home projects I’m doing, I’m drowning in extra clutter!
>Dave Ramsey is a syndicated talk radio host who’s based here in Nashville. He has this financial plan to live debt-free and his followers are seriously, seriously DEVOTED to him.
>i just started flylady like 2 weeks ago, and i only follow what i want to follow, but doing the little things work for me, making sure i have my shiney sink (i always put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and not in the sink) put on your shoes (flip flops work for me) swish and swipe (if i see something on the counter i swipe it, if not i dont) and i just delete the emails, shoes (check, delete) sink (check, delete) boring testimonial (delete) you might like it if you can adapt the routines to work for you and your family.
>You can also have the messages consolidated into digest form, and receive one email per day.
>Being in desperate need of housecleaning help, I signed up for FlyLady.It lasted about 3 days.The onslaught of emails was too much.I will say this for it, though, it’s great to be encouraged to concentrate on one thing at a time. If the emails were only that (and not all the testimonials and what not, just simply the instructions), I’d resign up in a heartbeat.
>I read the website a couple years ago and tried doing some of the things. Couldn’t keep up, but I see the value of her ideas, and I try to do a few of the things. It’s kind of like the Dr. Bronner soap philosophy—if you’re depressed, clean your house. I’d love to have a cleaning person, but maybe I’d be more depressed. Hard to believe. Anyways, I completely agree about the shoe thing. In Japan they don’t wear shoes in the house, and it’s a lot cleaner. No way I’m going for that part, and the lace-up thing is just absurd. And if she says you have to wear a bra in the house, I quit.
>Dave is awesome….awesome awesome.
>I have been away-this is so flippin funny that this is what I come back to!HAHAHAHA!
>Heh heh heh…I sent a note/email to the editor too. That is just ROLLIN!(AND I signed my (yikes!) REAL name and left my phone number!)
>** I read the emails for about 3 days and never left my chair! LOL! **that was pretty much me too.
>I’ve been signed up with Flylady for about a year, but after making some improvements I found myself spending more time reading the emails than doing the work. Maybe I have ODD like Anne. I’m considering jsut setting reminders for myself on my Yahoo calendar. Instead of Flylay’s sweet “you can do it!” attitude, maybe I need to get reminders like, “get off your ass and feed those kids already!”
>I tried Flylady when I first became a SAHM and it was too much for me. We have a relatively clutter-free house already so I just need to keep it clean. The sink, fugetaboutit…not a priority for me and I am still scratching my head figuring out why it is so important to her. With kids in the house it is just impossible to keep shiny clean because of so many meals/snacks each day. Shoes…well, if I wear shoes I wear my velcro Sketchers, I don’t see why lace-up makes a difference. Her schedule is too hard to keep to…basically my philosophy is “If it bothers you, clean it” which works pretty well for me since I am a recovering clean freak. There are some things that get done every day (make beds, clean dishes) and some that only get done once a month (scrub shower) and some almost never (wash windows) but somehow the house is presentable the majority of the time :)If I did all that stuff Flylady wanted me to do I wouldn’t have any free time!
>I tried.I tried again.I failed.Purple puddles, testimonials, and endless lists annoyed me.I hired a cleaning lady to come over every other week. I was happier. I wish she hadn’t moved away…. I miss the cleaning lady…. $65 every two weeks to wash every floor, bathroom, vaccum, and dust everywhere — heck yeah!
>I can’t do the fly lady though occasionaly I do the clean sink!I mean I really like the 15 minute plans that she has, but then I’m like, hmm declutter, or a nice episode of As Time Goes By with a nice cup of tea or coffee? And sloth wins…
>OH But seriously, check out the chicken paprika recipe on her site… mmmmm
>Ok, read a little of the site but way too much info to digest. Did not want to sign up for the millions of emails either. I did try out the sink theory. I cleaned the sink then cleared everything but the microwav off the counters. Then ever 5 minutes cleaned whatever landed in my shiny sink.This morning the look of my counter tops really pleased me. I go over to the sink, look directly in and what do you know. Danr! I missed a spot! Hate the sink now. Leave the house in a grumpy mood. Oh well, I tried.
>I bought her book when I was in the nesting stage of pregnancy. I read about 10 pages & made plans to conquer the house once the baby came.RIGHT!That book is in a pile of clutter & dust… around here somewhere!!Great article!
>well you tried 🙂 Unfortunatley I have a hubby who would rather have a house without chaos than want me to be a cool hip chick 🙂
>What would we call the hip version of Flylady? Maybe Suburban Turmoil? heh… heh… I’d sign up for your barrage of emails.
>I’ve been doing the Flylady thing ever since you mentioned it a while back. Yes, it’s corny as hell, but since the house had become almost unliveable (I would walk into a room and say out loud, HOW DO WE LIVE LIKE THIIIIIS?!?!), I gave it a shot. I like the baby steps part-not too overwhelming.Love your column!
>Yeah…I could never really get past the “wearing shoes all day” part of the plan.
>Yes, I tried fly lady a few years ago. I liked the concept, but wanted fly lady lite. Thousands of Emails to sort through for the four ideas I could use wasn’t a good trade for a working mom. Even if I LOVED the four ideas. Maybe an option to sign up for Bitchy Fly Lady, where the beginning of each e-mail would be short and to the point. There could be a “Did I hurt your feelings?” button that would give you all of the sweet, inspirational stuff.
>What can I say? I love Flylady. I don’t do everything. Actually, I don’t do very much. But what I do is because of her emails. I guess I don’t mind the emails. Delete, delete, delete.I didn’t learn anything about keeping a home when I was growing up, so Flylady has been a tremendous help to me. But I could see how if you already have some basic routines down, it would be too much.Btw, I LOVE the shoes. I never wore shoes before, but now I can’t even think if I don’t have my sneakers on. And I actually wear them out. I never even owned sneakers until I started Flylady, but I have to say, they’ve helped my back pain and as well as my work ethic. 🙂 I won’t wear a vest, though. It’s all about adapting it to fit your style.