Well, if I'm being totally honest (and I promise I always will be), this week has been very un-50's-like. Usually, I'm a stay at home mom, which makes the art of trying to live as a 1950's era housewife not only possible, but at times even enjoyable. However, this week I started a new job which will allow me to work part time on the weekends after a week long 8:30 - 5 orientation period. Ugh. I have been completely and utterly spent at the end of each day so far (and, God help me, it's only Wednesday!). I have a whole new appreciation for working moms everywhere, as well as a whole new confirmation that the working mom thing just isn't for me. I've been missing my sweet baby boy like crazy, the house has never looked less like the 1950's (actually, it more closely resembles my early 2000s-era college apartment), and my husband is having a hard time dealing with my crazy emotions stemming from too little sleep, information overload, and just plain hormones!
Today, the scene my husband found when he walked through the door after a hard day's work was anything but 50's-like. Instead of his wife in an attractive outfit, hair and makeup done (as it was hours before at work), he found me in pajamas...his pajamas...with a glass of wine in my hand, talking on the phone. House a mess, dinner not cooked...he just laughed, shook his head and said "I like your outfit." I had to laugh too.
Before he came home, my mom and I had a glass of wine and perused my 1950's book collection, laughing at all the hilarious things that are in them...and I whined about things like where I would ever find a rabbit to cook, that I didn't want to cook frog legs, and how the heck do you use a needle and thread to sew up a beef heart when you can hardly sew on a button, to mention a few. I promise to write on these and many other adventures, culinary and otherwise in the near future. I just have to get this crazy week of working under my belt first.
Until my 1950's escapades can fully continue, I will regale you with the last bit of Amy Vanderbilt's suggested morning cleaning routine:
After beds are made and bedrooms tidied, bathrooms are cleaned and put in order, then the living room tidied (if this was not done the night before). Now with everything in order, dishes washed and beds made, dusting and floors come last (p.377).
Wait, she doesn't mean dusting and doing floors in every room, does she? Clearly, she did not have children. I guess I'm just going to have to be creative about cleaning the 1950's way in 2011. I wonder if my little one would be so kind as to learn to crawl with a dust mop attached to his belly...then we'd really be in business!
Showing posts with label Homekeeping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Homekeeping. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
What We Call Progress
Throughout her musings on the daily housekeeping routine, Amy Vanderbilt places households into one of two categories: one with servants and one without. I can't imagine Amy ran a house devoid of help, but apparently, having an entire staff of help was just as much work as not (I'm still not buying it). Just for fun, here are some of the people who may or may not have been employed by Ms. Vanderbilt, as well as a bit about their job description.
The Butler: Where there is no housekeeper, the butler is in charge of all servants and is the household's major executive. (The big cheese, the head honcho, the big kahuna. You get the idea.)
The Valet: Keeps his employer's clothes in order, does personal shopping, keeps shoes shined, and every clothing item clean and in repair. (Today, the valet has been replaced by LLBean.com and the shoe shine guys at the airport.)
The Chauffeur: Usually on seven-day duty, on call day or night. He is expected to do more than drive cars and care for them; he usually doubles as a butler or gardener. (Today the chauffeur has been replaced also - her name is mom.)
The list goes on, my friends, to include the housekeeper, the companion (someone who is a good conversationalist, a good reader, and enjoys parlor games - Mom, are you still looking for a job?), the social secretary, the cook, the lady's maid (she draws the baths for, lays clothes out for, and helps the ladies of the household dress), and the chambermaid.
Amidst the economic recession our country has been faced with of late, I sheepishly admit: Ours is a household without servants. Well, actually, we have all of those things - my husband and I. And while he holds down full-time paid employment, many of the aforementioned tasks fall to me.
But never fear; Amy has advice for managing the "servantless household" as she calls it. Continuing on from the last post about laundry, she explains the next part of the morning routine as follows:
As the kitchen is the heart of the house, it should never be left untidy while other chores get prior attention in the morning. The best plan is to finish the kitchen first, then proceed to bedmaking, if it is not possible for each member of the family to air and straighten his own room and make his bed before reporting to breakfast (the ideal arrangement in a servantless household) (p. 377).
In my household, it is definitely not possible for my husband to make the bed before reporting to breakfast. Trust me, it's just not. Plus, I don't want him late for work in the mornings to
"air and straighten" our room - what would June think of that?! My little one, being 8 months old...well, looks like mom will take care of his room, too!
I don't know if we've reached "the ideal arrangment" for our servantless household yet, but we're getting there. Just the other day when my husband came home from work, the first thing he said was, "Hey babe...the place looks great!" And he invited me to join him in front of Sports Center for breakfast. Now that, my friends, is what we call progress!
The Butler: Where there is no housekeeper, the butler is in charge of all servants and is the household's major executive. (The big cheese, the head honcho, the big kahuna. You get the idea.)
The Valet: Keeps his employer's clothes in order, does personal shopping, keeps shoes shined, and every clothing item clean and in repair. (Today, the valet has been replaced by LLBean.com and the shoe shine guys at the airport.)
The Chauffeur: Usually on seven-day duty, on call day or night. He is expected to do more than drive cars and care for them; he usually doubles as a butler or gardener. (Today the chauffeur has been replaced also - her name is mom.)
The list goes on, my friends, to include the housekeeper, the companion (someone who is a good conversationalist, a good reader, and enjoys parlor games - Mom, are you still looking for a job?), the social secretary, the cook, the lady's maid (she draws the baths for, lays clothes out for, and helps the ladies of the household dress), and the chambermaid.
Amidst the economic recession our country has been faced with of late, I sheepishly admit: Ours is a household without servants. Well, actually, we have all of those things - my husband and I. And while he holds down full-time paid employment, many of the aforementioned tasks fall to me.
But never fear; Amy has advice for managing the "servantless household" as she calls it. Continuing on from the last post about laundry, she explains the next part of the morning routine as follows:
As the kitchen is the heart of the house, it should never be left untidy while other chores get prior attention in the morning. The best plan is to finish the kitchen first, then proceed to bedmaking, if it is not possible for each member of the family to air and straighten his own room and make his bed before reporting to breakfast (the ideal arrangement in a servantless household) (p. 377).
In my household, it is definitely not possible for my husband to make the bed before reporting to breakfast. Trust me, it's just not. Plus, I don't want him late for work in the mornings to
"air and straighten" our room - what would June think of that?! My little one, being 8 months old...well, looks like mom will take care of his room, too!
I don't know if we've reached "the ideal arrangment" for our servantless household yet, but we're getting there. Just the other day when my husband came home from work, the first thing he said was, "Hey babe...the place looks great!" And he invited me to join him in front of Sports Center for breakfast. Now that, my friends, is what we call progress!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Lesson 1: Establish a Routine
As my quest to become a "June Cleaverish" housewife continues, I soon realize I am going to have to be organized about this or it's just not going to work. Fortunately, I have a mini-library of 50's books to help me with this task. After reading what a few of them have to say, I actually found that Amy Vanderbilt's Complete Book of Etitquette (A Guide to Gracious Living) offers the best advice about organizing the household tasks into a daily routine. Kudos, Amy - I wouldn't have expected a Vanderbilt to have more to say on housekeeping than the editors of Good Housekeeping, but then that just goes to show you you can't judge a housekeeper by her family name. I will be more than happy to share Ms. Vanderbilt's opinions on such things with you, but I think it will be best to break it up over the course of a few days so that nothing is lost and we can all take our time truly appreciating what she has to say. That, and it's going to take me at least a few days to get this all down. I hope Ms. Vanderbilt would find me a promising student.
The whole family should be urged to arise early enough for a leisurely start on the day. There should be time for father's second cup of coffee, his pleasant walk to the station, his morning romp with the baby. If mother is to become family chauffeur, breakfast should be eaten by all at the same time so she has a regular, peaceful meal, too, and time to clear away the dishes, if not perhaps to wash them, before taking father to his train or the children to school (p.377).
Ok, here's the thing about that: my dear husband, or "father" as he is referred to by Amy, sincerely loathes mornings. His preferred method of "starting the day" is anything but leisurely. He wakes up, hits the snooze, "sleeps" for 7 or 9 more minutes...whatever the darn alarm does, then proceeds to eat his Froot Loops in front of ESPN before he finishes getting ready for work, grabs his briefcase and scoots out the door.
Hmm...what to do, what to do. So this morning, determined to have a leisurely breakfast together, I wake up, feed the baby, and I'm feeling pretty good about this. The school called last night to say today would be a 2-hour delay due to icy roads, so I think I have a pretty good shot, at least this morning, of doing the breakfast deal.
I couldn't have been more wrong. I casually asked father what he would like for breakfast (since I hadn't been to the grocery store yet this week, there was not a Loop to be found in the house) upon his arising. I placed his lemon-raspberry muffins (homemade, I might add!) and orange juice with a napkin on the table next to my multi-grain cheerios and white grape juice. And what does the man do?! He comes right in for breakfast, grabs his muffins and plops himself right down in front of Sports Center! I mean, I know not much has happened between dinner last night and breakfast this morning, but how is it he's so very certain I don't have something to say that could rival the latest news in sports?
Other than that, father doesn't drink coffee, he doesn't take the train, so needless to say he doesn't walk to the station. He did give our baby kisses and hug before he left, as he does every morning - so we'll call that a romp or in the neighborhood of a romp. He also managed to trek across the tundra that is our front walk out to the car in one piece and make it to work on time - a near miracle if you've missed the weather reports lately.
It appears I might have to be a little more vocal about what is required of a 50's husband in the future...great. I can practically see the eye-rolls and hear the heavy sighs now!
The whole family should be urged to arise early enough for a leisurely start on the day. There should be time for father's second cup of coffee, his pleasant walk to the station, his morning romp with the baby. If mother is to become family chauffeur, breakfast should be eaten by all at the same time so she has a regular, peaceful meal, too, and time to clear away the dishes, if not perhaps to wash them, before taking father to his train or the children to school (p.377).
Ok, here's the thing about that: my dear husband, or "father" as he is referred to by Amy, sincerely loathes mornings. His preferred method of "starting the day" is anything but leisurely. He wakes up, hits the snooze, "sleeps" for 7 or 9 more minutes...whatever the darn alarm does, then proceeds to eat his Froot Loops in front of ESPN before he finishes getting ready for work, grabs his briefcase and scoots out the door.
Hmm...what to do, what to do. So this morning, determined to have a leisurely breakfast together, I wake up, feed the baby, and I'm feeling pretty good about this. The school called last night to say today would be a 2-hour delay due to icy roads, so I think I have a pretty good shot, at least this morning, of doing the breakfast deal.
I couldn't have been more wrong. I casually asked father what he would like for breakfast (since I hadn't been to the grocery store yet this week, there was not a Loop to be found in the house) upon his arising. I placed his lemon-raspberry muffins (homemade, I might add!) and orange juice with a napkin on the table next to my multi-grain cheerios and white grape juice. And what does the man do?! He comes right in for breakfast, grabs his muffins and plops himself right down in front of Sports Center! I mean, I know not much has happened between dinner last night and breakfast this morning, but how is it he's so very certain I don't have something to say that could rival the latest news in sports?
Other than that, father doesn't drink coffee, he doesn't take the train, so needless to say he doesn't walk to the station. He did give our baby kisses and hug before he left, as he does every morning - so we'll call that a romp or in the neighborhood of a romp. He also managed to trek across the tundra that is our front walk out to the car in one piece and make it to work on time - a near miracle if you've missed the weather reports lately.
It appears I might have to be a little more vocal about what is required of a 50's husband in the future...great. I can practically see the eye-rolls and hear the heavy sighs now!
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