Author Archives: Renee

Oh, Brother

Posted on by

0

Sometimes advice comes from the most unexpected places. I recently was given homemaking advice from my 22 year old brother. If that’s not in unexpected source, I don’t know what is.

A couple months ago he told me he had a good topic for my blog. Seriously? I didn’t even know he read it. But since he tends to be knowledgeable in strange areas, I decided to listen. His advice was this: “When you clean a room, just grab all your shit, throw it in one big pile, and say to yourself ‘ok I’m just gonna organize this pile.’ It makes cleaning soooo much easier.”

Hmmm. Ok. Despite the delivery, his advice actually kind of made sense. Make a big task into a smaller more accomplish-able task and it will be more doable. I tried it and I like it.

I guess  my brother shares my gene for organizational ADD. Picking up an entire room can sometimes seem so overwhelming, I just push it off. By bringing the mess down to one 3×3 foot area, all I have to do is accomplish this one area. I can do this.

One place I have employed this technique is in my room. I put everything that needs attention on my bed… Laundry and other clothes that need to be put away, last night’s towel, miscellaneous items on my bureau, the jewelry on my end table, glasses that have accumulated that need to be brought to the kitchen, etc. Now that the room feels clean (with the exception of my bed) I WANT to fix this pile of mess. Having everything right in front of me makes it easier to start to process, and motivated to not finish until the bed is clear.

Sometimes there is no way to make a mess physically smaller, in which case I’ve found if I break a job down into smaller, more manageable tasks it’s a twist on the same idea: make a mountain into smaller, more do-able mole hills, and plug away at accomplishing tiny tasks one at a time until the bigger task at hand is complete.

For example, emptying the sink. It’s impossible to shrink the sink down,  and it’s a pretty small space to begin with. But when its full of dirty items that need attention, it can feel like the size of my 25-foot living room. I now group the items and tackle them one at a time. First, I start with JUST the big items that need scrubbing – bowls, pans, cutting boards, etc. Once those are done, the sink is looking pretty empty, but still slightly overwhelming. So I focus on the utensils because they are all over the place and add to the visual mess. Then all that’s left are glasses and plates that needs to be put in the dishwasher.  Piece of cake.

For my brother it was a visual thing: bringing a 12 x 12 bedroom down to a 3-foot pile of “shit” that is manageable.  For me it’s a mental thing- small tasks are quick and easy to accomplish. Either way, it seems to get the job done. And even if you only have time to finish to first 2 steps, at least you made a dent. (And you can assign your husband to the rest!)

The Cosmic Cleaner

Posted on by

1

Let me just start off this post saying I did not fall off the face if the earth. It seems like forever since my last post. I’ve started a couple in between but haven’t found the time to finish them. Hobby time is definitely far and few between when you live with an 9 month old.

Speaking of my lovely 9 month old, she is sleeping right now. And I took the day off from work. I’ve found that those two things must coincide for me to do anything that falls into the “hobby” category.

My normal nap time activity is cleaning. Though I have to admit its so hard to stop everything that needs to be done and just clean. But sometimes, it’s just necessary. Today, the second my daughter’s head hit the pillow, I was like a cleaning tornado. My bathrooms needed some serious attention. Enter my next product review: Comet.

When I got married I took a “cleaning supply” trip to Target with my mom. I dont know about you, but I just love dropping hundreds on cleaning supplies. Anyway, she had many tips and suggestions that day, but the one product she was dead set on me purchasing (and ironically the cheapest item) was Comet. $375 later, this stuff (which I think retails for 99 cents) is one of my favorite cleaning products.

I use Comet on every surface in my bathroom; shower, toilet, sinks. It’s powder, so it becomes just abrasive enough to scrub away any soap scum or grime, but sensitive enough to not ruin finishes.

I recently noticed my kitchen cabinets had stains on them that I was having a hard time getting off with my standard kitchen cleaner. I asked my mom, obviously. Her answer: Comet. The cabinets cleaned right up.

Comet is like Bar Keeper’s Friend’s little brother. Similar application, but less intense. Which is nice for every day.  I don’t feel like I have to put on rubber kitchen gloves when I use it.

Although I try to gravitate towards more natural products, theres the exception to every rule. There is certainly no “certified organic” stamp on the Comet bottle. But sometimes disinfecting comes before going green, especially when it comes to bathrooms. After all, how often do you really scrub your toilets? Everything in moderation…

Last but not least, Comet smells clean.  There’s something nice about cleaning yourself in a clean environment. What a concept! There are so many cleaning products that smell artificial and fruity, which always throws me off. If I wanted fruit I would eat an orange… When I clean my bathroom, I want bleach. (I just re-read that sentence… maybe I sucked in too much Comet on today’s cleaning spree).

Well, I hope my subscribers welcome me back. If you haven’t missed me, I at least hope your pleased to hear from me 🙂

xoxo, The Joly Homemaker

A Cutlet Above the Rest

Posted on by

2

I’ve had a super busy last couple of weeks and have fallen a little behind on my blogging. The good thing about being busy is that it has fueled the blogging brain with things I’m excited to share. Yey!

It’s not often that I cook with my mother. When I want one of her recipes I usually call her and get instructions over the phone, or in a series of text messages that read like this: “Mix in eggs n romano. Not too much, but enough. Eyeball it.” Or, “If medium pan fill water half way, if bigger than medium but not large, fill 1/3. Judge by size of escarole head.” Very specific. I know exactly what I’m doing.

If you have an Italian mother like I do, you know exactly what I am talking about with the vague ingredient amounts, and multistep procedures of cooking Italian. That’s because in this heritage, cooking is certainly not a science… it’s an art.

On Sunday my mother came over and I mentioned that I was going to make Chicken Parmesan. Whenever I tell her I am making something that she specializes in I can sense the silent cringe. This time was not an exception. As I took out the ingredients and started the prep work, I had a sneaking suspicion that my mother did not have the will power to leave these precious cutlets alone in my care. She starting correcting and suggesting and next thing I know I am the student in my mother’s Intro to Chicken Parm class. Fine by me.

I learned two time-tested tips in the kitchen with my mom. The first is this: Brown shopping bags are a perfect surface to place food that has just been cooked in oil. They are thicker and larger than paper towels, and can withstand becoming soggy when saturated with oil. Also, it’s a great way to re-use and re-purpose those brown bags and save about 100 paper towels it requires to soak up the excess oil produced by 20 chicken cutlets.

The second tip I learned is something I thought I already did, but was mistaken: Clean while you are cooking. I say I was mistaken because I always pick-up-and-put-away when I cook, but at the end I am still left with a sink full of dirty dishes and pans, and countertops that need cleaning. My mother was wiping counters, filling the dish washer, and scrubbing pans in between flipping cutlets. Talk about multi-tasking. By the time all 20 cutlets were laying on their brown bag beds, my kitchen was cleaner than before we started. Amazing.

I think it’s easy to find cooking overwhelming. By the time you buy the food, prepare it, cook it, and clean, you’ve nearly lost your appetite and just want to take a nap. Combining the cooking and cleaning into one step is a little corner that can be cut to make the process more doable. And a hot meal is a lot more appealing in a clean kitchen, isn’t it?

Needless to say, my chicken parm was award winning. I gave a portion to my sister-in-law who said they were breaded to perfection. They would be after 30 years of cutlet-frying experience. Watching someone who knows what they are doing is the best way to shorten the learning curve on whatever is it that you are attempting, and avoid the frustration of learning by your own mistakes. And an extra bonus- it’s more entertaining to cook with someone else!

My mother will kill me for posting this shot I snapped of her in action.

Class in session! My mother will kill me for posting this shot I snapped of her in action.

Calendar Girl

Posted on by

0

I’ve always been envious of people who organize their life in a day timer. It must feel very relieving to know what you are doing in advance each day and not have to worry about forgetting an important commitment. Both my sister and my mother live this way to some extent, and even my husband keeps his handy dandy pocket schedule in his car at all times. Clearly this is a trend I am missing.

I have NEVER been able to use a day timer, calendar or other time-based organizer. It really does not fit my personality. I don’t love scheduling things in advance, I prefer to do things based on mood, and I have a good enough memory to not lose sight of important events.

Enter motherhood. Living minute to minute? Extremely challenging. Doing things based on mood? Out the window. Depending on your MEMORY? HA!

Upon returning to work after maternity leave I quickly diagnosed myself with a moderate to severe case of mommy ADD. I don’t know if this exists medically, but in my world it’s a reality. My mom mentioned before Christmas that she needed to buy her “2013 calendar” and a light bulb went off in my head. It’s time to FORCE myself to learn to live by a calendar.

So obviously I’m going to do this bigger and better than my mom and I decided to entrust my Google calendar and (ready for this?) link it to my husband’s Google calendar and live in perfect sync, skipping into the sunset for eternity while “Here Comes the Sun” plays in the back ground.

Wishful thinking. I did set up my Google calendar and even had my tech-savvy brother sync it with my husband’s. I filled up the first month and was feeling like I had everything under control. The problem is I never opened it again. My husband never even looked at it to begin with. And alas, I went on for another 3 months like a wandering nomad.

On the 3rd month I got so sick of hearing myself ask my husband what his schedule was (I can only imagine how sick of hearing me HE was) that I threw the hope of the electronic calendar out the window (sorry Google) and decided to employ the trusty paper wall calendar. If this isn’t time-tested I don’t know what is.

I went on Microsoft Word and found great templates for month-to-month calendars. Perfect and free. I printed out this month and next month and away I went at unleashing my mental schedule down on paper. Relief.

I finished and proudly hung the 2 months next to my refrigerator. Next thing I knew, I blinked and a week went by and I didn’t consult my calendar once! WHAT is wrong with me?

As I stared at my wall I realized what the problem was. I need a magnifying glass to read this thing. And really, who has time to read a calendar?? I need to make this something I can reference.

I tore down the faulty calendars and printed 2 new templates. I busted out a yellow highlighter and a red, blue and black pen. Better than nothing. And in my kitchen, with baby in front pack, I had my own little arts and crafts fair. (Yes this is considered arts and crafts to people, like me, who work in finance).

I highlighted the days my husband is working because he has an unconventional schedule. I then wrote obligations in black and underlined what I had to do in red, and things my husband had to do in blue.

It’s no piece of art, but the colors make it easier to understand at a quick glance. And I feel mentally at ease not having to rely on my memory. If I ever get more on the ball I think I could perfect it more, but for now this is infinitely better than nothing, and considerably more useful than version 1.0.

I’m learning as I slowly get my life in order that it’s as important to be mentally organized as it is to be physically organized. Mental organization is mental freedom, which magically makes room for more productivity. And after all, productivity is where it’s at for a working mother in the 21st century, right?

Any and all tips on mental organization are welcome!!

A Friend Indeed

Posted on by

1

Of all the surfaces to clean in my house, there is one that takes the cake in difficulty- my ceramic stove top. This puppy is the black diamond of housekeeping. I didn’t realize how nearly impossible these are to maintain until I moved into my house and bought an electric stove. My parents had a gas stove top, where you spill something and you clean it up in normal fashion with a little basic kitchen cleaner and a cotton cloth. If it was a REAL bad spill, burnt and crusted over, a little brillow pad and elbow grease could get the job done with relative ease.

Not the case with a ceramic stove top. God forbid you spill anything short of water on the heated surface. Instant concrete. I dead seriously told my husband recently that he was no longer allowed to cook on the stove if he couldn’t do so without spilling food on it. Psycho wife, I know. But it’s THAT hard to clean!

If you have a ceramic stove top, you know exactly what I am talking about. If you don’t, I envy you. Kitchen cleaner is a joke. Comet doesn’t make a dent. “Ceramic Stove Top Cleaner” barely cuts the mustard. It will EVENTUALLY take 15% of the staining off after elbow grease turns to tennis elbow.

About a month ago I got an email from my aunt. Short and sweet, her message was this: “I’ve learned that Barkeeper’s Friend works great for cleaning ceramic stove tops.” Hmm, I’ve heard that name before. And I remembered, about 6 months earlier my mom was laughing telling me how her sister (my aunt on the OTHER side of the family), was going crazy cleaning every surface of her house with this unbelievable cleaning product she came across: Barkeeper’s Friend. Two legitimate referrals. I have to try this stuff.

Of course, I forgot to pick it up each and every time I hit up the supermarket in the last month. But low and behold, I came across it in my mother’s linen closet this past week and “borrowed” it from her. Quotes are completely necessary here because I simply do not plan on giving it back.

The bottle says “Once Tried, Always Used.” There could not be a better tag line for this stuff. It is UNBELIEVABLE. And it’s been around since 1882. One-hundred-and-thirty-one years. Seriously? Where has this stuff been and WHY are people not screaming from the rooftops about it?

The proof is in the pudding. I tried almost every surface it claims to clean on front of the bottle, starting with my precious little ceramic stove top. I sprinkled the magic fairy dust onto the stove top, took a wet paper towel, did a couple of scrubs back and forth and I was in cleaning ecstasy. Good as new!

I then moved on to my copper tea kettle. Five black paper towels later, I was plucking my eyebrows in it. Next up: my stainless steel range hood. Cleaner than the day I bought it.

I then started searching for some brass to try it on. AH-HA: the fireplace tools that we inherited when we bought the house appear to be brass. I took the Barkeeper’s Friend to the shovel head. It polished it so good it came out looking silver. Either that is some cheap ass brass, or this stuff literally just polished the brass of the shovel. Either way, I like it.

I then moved upstairs to my bathroom. I used it to clean my tile, another winner. Finally, I took it to my porcelain tub. The detachable shower head had left dark gray scratch marks on the side of my tub that I could not get out with anything. I even tried Goof-off (which due to its smell I consider highly toxic and therefore effective). One swipe of the cloth the scratch marks faded….a second swipe I could barely see them… a third swipe and they never existed.

Screw diamonds… this stuff is a girl’s best friend. I am going to stop here and let the photos below speak for themselves. Wait, one last thing. Amazon carries all variations of this super product for around $5. Worth every penny!

Take note of the shining ceramic stove top...

Take note of the shining ceramic stove top…

DSC_0948DSC_0949

DSC_0954DSC_0955

DSC_0957DSC_0958

A Worthwhile Muffin Top

Posted on by

0

Fruit is one thing that I find I buy based on craving. There are always those strawberries that look SO deliciously red and plump when you are starving and in the grocery store after a long day. Then you get them home and you find yourself going for everything BUT the strawberries for the next week. Eventually, they start looking wilted, then dry, then whitish and by day 7 you question whether you should even touch them to move them from the refrigerator to the trash.

I know what you’re thinking. I know exactly what she’s talking about, I never finish my bananas. Right? OK maybe you’re not thinking that, but you must admit bananas last about 48 hours. Unless of course you buy them completely green, then you’ll squeeze a third (yet inedible) day out of them.

I took my husband with me to the grocery store not long ago and he grabbed a bunch of bananas. A bunch. Meaning 6. Just doing the quick math, that equals 3 bananas per person for 2 days. If there is one thing I have learned in my measly year-and-a-half as a grocery shopper it’s that 3 bananas is plenty for 2 people, and 4 is more than enough.

Day 1, I ate a banana. Day 2, I ate another banana. Day 3, I said to my husband “Aren’t you going to eat a banana?” By now I have a full fledge case of banana anxiety. I could see the brown growing on the remaining 3 bananas and I was haunted by my mother’s words: “You never waste food.”

They say when life hands you lemons…make lemonade. Well, when life hands you over-ripe mushy brown bananas, my mother always taught me to make banana bread. Maybe she got it from her mother who lived through The Great Depression, or maybe it’s a result of her Italian heritage, but the value my mother has for food is unmatched.

SO being the cool, hip, modern day mama that I like to think I am, I decided to put my own twist on the idea and decided to make muffins. Why muffins? Because they are quick and on the go, and both me and my husband are always looking for quick breakfast on the way out of the house. And not to mention they are certainly cuter than a loaf of bread.

I jumped on one of my very favorite recipe sites: http://www.allrecipes.com. This site is AMAZING. There are multiple variations of every recipe you could ever imagine, all rated on a star system and fully equipped with tip, tricks and comments from users who have tried that recipe.

I came across this recipe:
http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Banana-Crumb-Muffins/Detail.aspx

OH. MY. GOD. Try it. You will not be sorry. If you are thinking is it worth the calories? Unequivocally I answer you YES. These muffins are the definition of moist and the crumbly delight that you sprinkle on the top is second to none. And the best part is, you are using those bananas and doing your little guilt-freeing, fruit-respecting deed of the day.

Now on to saving the strawberries! ENJOY!

Call me NUTs…

Posted on by

0

I’m really not one to seek out new products or switch up the old morning routine. What I do seems to work, for the most part, and I’m lucky enough to not really be sensitive to all that much. In reality, I probably settle for what I am currently using because I don’t have an interest in researching ingredients and Googling their chemical compositions. Personally, I’d rather Google who wore what to the Oscars. Productive, I know.

My sister, however, is the complete opposite. She is always coming across new products for her hair, skin, and face. The more organic, the better.

Being the younger sister, I do what younger sisters do best. I sit back and reap the benefits of her hard work. In the last year she has turned me on to a couple products I absolutely love and can’t live without. The latest and greatest: Coconut Oil.

My introduction to coconut oil came earlier this winter when my sister looked at me with brutal honesty and said “You’re face is SO dry, I can see your makeup caked on.” Rough. But honest, and although slightly insulting, appreciated. I’m glad SOMEONE told me in no uncertain terms that I was walking around looking like my face had been antiqued. And really, only your sister can say something like that and get away with it.

She then inquired what I was using for moisturizer. I named my off-the-shelf Walgreens moisturizer. She advised that I use STRAIGHT OIL. Seriously? The only thing worse than being dry as a bone is looking like you just stepped off an oil rig. No thanks.

“You should use coconut oil, I rub it all over my body.” All over your body? A little weird, but ok, I DO like the smell of coconut so I was willing to try it. And I was sold.

If you are hesitant like I was, let me just start by clarifying- OIL does not necessarily imply GREASE. Coconut oil is a very dry oil. At room temperature it is a solid, and liquefies into an almost watery oil when heated (by rubbing it in your palms- no microwaves or stove tops needed).

If you like the smell of coconut, you will eat this stuff up. My husband told me I smelled like our honeymoon when I got in bed the first night. Evoking memories of your honeymoon can’t be bad for the marriage, right? I’m getting a little off topic. BUT if you don’t love the smell of coconut, you will likely be able to tolerate the scent of it’s oil because it is very subtle.

It’s attractive too that its 100% organic and natural. I always feel a little guilty smearing products on my face that are riddled with unknown chemicals. It has to get into the blood stream, and although I have no idea what the effects could be, it just doesn’t seem like the thing to do.

In her research, my sister found that coconut oil can actually kill bacteria. Let’s face it, anything with potential to ward off pimples is worth its weight in gold. I’ve always struggled with break outs, and I can honestly say that I’ve had one, yes ONE, pimple since I started using coconut oil a couple months ago.

And my dry face? It’s fabulously dewy. Yes dewy, not shiny. Dewy skin is healthy, glowing skin. My concealer goes on smoother in the morning and comes off easier at the end of the day.

So where can you get this precious slice of heaven on earth? Trader Joe’s has it stocked. But like anything else, I’m sure Amazon carries it if TJ’s is not in your immediate area.

Thanks to my big sis Ang for turning me on to coconut oil and bringing my face back to life! : )

Home Sweet Home

Posted on by

0

Ohhh, organization. It’s a funny word, isn’t it? I think it is THE official go-to adjective on every resume. It’s such a general term that everyone can relate to in some way. After all, what employer doesn’t love an “ORGANIZED” employee? A disheveled mess doesn’t exactly have the word success plastered on it.

I’m pretty sure my current resume houses this fancy little word. Actually, who am I kidding, I’m positive it does. Funnily enough, if you looked at my desk right now you would probably stamp the word “LIAR” on my forehead. I am a post-it note freak. That should tell the whole story.

In my defense, I DO consider myself organized. I am mentally organized. I can juggle many tasks at work, prioritize them in my brain, mentally check what has been done vs. what is outstanding AND give a DETAILED (another resume classic) account of where we stand. My desk does not mirror my brain however, and my house? It’s a close relative to my desk.

I will be the first to admit that my disorganization is a result of sheer laziness. I leave my clothes on the bench at the end of my bed. Why? Because walking to the closet, opening it, finding a hanger and scooping my pants on to it is a mental Mt. Everest. Can’t do it. Not in the moment at least. Instead, I let the clothes pile and every 3rd day or so I can’t take it anymore and I go on a hanging spree.

I thank my mother for instilling in me the hatred for a messy space. This gives me hope that SOMEDAY I can overcome my disease of disorganization. And in the meantime, keeps my house decent and livable.

When I moved into my house when I got married, I was in over my head. Organizing 2,000 square feet? Are you kidding? I could BARELY keep my head above water in my 10×10 bedroom. My mom gave me this tiny bit of advice, on which I have decided to base my very first blog post: Everything should have a home. Simple. Enlightening.

Now, if you are a truly organized person, you’re probably thinking this girl has a lot to learn. But if you are like me, and your pants from yesterday are still lingering at the end of your bed, and the mail that is important but not really THAT important is hanging out on your kitchen counter, then I’m sure you feel a little enlightened.

This is, and continues to be a work in progress. A year and a half later, I am still slowly working at giving everything a proper “home,” and items that I can’t seem to appropriately place, I try to give away or throw away. As for the kinda-but-not-really-important mail- that is currently in my pantry in cute metal mail bins, one with my name on it, the other with my husband’s (yes, written on post-it notes. Some habits die hard).

I recently decided this practice will be best employed if taken one room at a time. Genius, right? I started with my living room. Why you ask? Because that’s the room most outsider’s see, obviously, and because I almost killed myself about a month ago falling over a baby toy. Code red hazard.

My mom bought my daughter a pink canvas bin that is embroidered with “baby things” that perfectly houses my daughter’s little collection of toys. She also helped me organize her changing table, and I devoted a half hour to placing items on my mantel that compliment each other.

The little drawers in the front of my TV stand are filled with NetFlix envelopes, stray DVDs, my Apple TV, and other TV related nick-nacks. How creative of me!

My husband refinished the china cabinet I inherited from my great aunt, which MADE me remove everything from its shelves. It was so beautiful when he finished that I was motivated to put everything back nice and organized.

The “lower level “of my coffee table (what is that called?) is full of books and photo albums that are currently in circulation, and I even bought a pretty dark wicker basket that stays on the coffee table to hold magazines and clickers. Let me just say, it’s truly amazing when you can find the clicker.

Last but not least, my husband’s laptop that was living on the coffee table with the power cord strung over the back of the couch for 15 months (embarrassing but true), is now in the corner of my living room, on his grandmother’s antique sewing table, at our own personal “internet café” as my brother named it, complete with an adorable ottoman as a seat that I found in the home section at Marshall’s.

One room down, seven to go. And I am motivated to move on to room #2- my kitchen, because I LOVE the feeling of this organized and clean space called my living room. And the best part about it is that it’s so quick and therefore EASY to clean (easy is a word us lazy folk love). I can put everything away in under 5 minutes and somehow, when my space is clear, my brain is clear.

Thanks, mom, for this tiny yet brain clearing, mood improving piece of advice, and for inspiring my first blog post. Keep the wisdom coming!