Bathroom Closet Organization; or, Novel Uses for Shoe Organizers

I like for things to be organized.  It makes me feel good, and it calms some vaguely panicky nerve in the back of my mind that whispers, "something is unsettled."  Clearly abnormal, I know.  However, for the last few months, every closet in our house has been is a state of unsettled disarray.  I finally got around to tackling the bathroom/linen closet. (Pantry, you are next!)

I can't believe that I am showing the messy contents of my closet, but, you have to see the "before" to get the big picture.  Since I have organizational inclinations, I own things like fabric bins.  I also have some genetic impulse to save things that I don't necessarily need, like old shoe boxes and college-era shower caddies.  So, a fairly cobbled-together organizational system that isn't really working.  I especially like that the shoe box holding our meds is sitting askew on top of toothpaste and contact lenses.  Nice.

First, I pulled everything out.  Here, you really get the full effect.  Lots of stuff.  In random collections.  Although I love having the closet where it is, it can be a bit annoying because it is both deep and narrow.  I got the idea for using a pocket shoe organizer from a YouTube channel called HomeOrganizing.  The woman in the video uses hers on the back of a bifold door, but, of course, it works just as well on a regular door.  The only problem I had with mine is that it was wider than the door, so I had to fold one column of pockets back.  It is still functional, it just doesn't look as nice as it would on a wider door.  

I sorted everything into various categories by row and then by pocket.  So now, I have a pocket that just holds headache meds; one pocket just for sunscreen; etc.  I would like to find a way to label the pockets, but I haven't quite figured that out yet.  The two fabric bins went back on the shelf: the larger one has oversized items, like the packages of cotton balls and cotton swabs.  The smaller bin contains beauty products that I consider "seasonal"--I'm not wearing bright pink nail polish in winter, so there is no point in keeping it with my regular makeup.  Overall, I really like the outcome.  Now, our sheets are on a shelf all by themselves (by the way, placing your folded set of sheets into one of the pillowcases keeps everything neat and together).  I can access everything and know exactly where it is.

Here is a little bonus shot of my vanity drawer.  It is really shallow, but it works for this type of stuff.  The white bins came from Wal-Mart and the clear ones came from Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

So, it seems a bit strange to be showing off my closets and drawers, but I thought the shoe organizer was a really useful tip, so I wanted to pass it along.  Anyone have any special tricks for organizing bathroom items?

Housekeeping Routines

I considered starting here with a little philosophical musing about housekeeping--I do, after all, specialize in domestic fiction and wrote my master's thesis on a novel called Recollections of a Housekeeper.  But, if you indicate that you are interested in housekeeping, people often suppose that you are very strange (I may be) and have a freakishly clean house (I don't).  So, I will dispense with (most of) the musing and get to the basics.  Most people do some housekeeping.  I am generally interested in how people do it. I think those manuals and descriptions from the 19th century on housekeeping practices (or domestic economy, as it was sometimes called) are fascinating.

My favorite modern-day housekeeping tome is Cheryl Mendelson's Home Comforts: The Art and Science of Keeping House (Scriber, 1999).  The book is a wonderful reference guide, nearly 900 pages long with answers for nearly every conceivable quandary on laundering, polishing, laying out, and making up that you could imagine.  My favorite chapter is the first, in which Mendelson writes of her "secret life."  She writes, "An off-and-on lawyer and professor in public, in private I launder and clean, cook from the hip, and devote serious time and energy to a domestic routine not so different from the one that defined my grandmothers as 'housewives'" (3).  She goes on to describe those grandmothers, one of Italian ancestry and the other of British Isles descent who are equal in their passion for domestic arts, though they often conflicted on ideas of airing beds or ironing shirts.  Ultimately, housekeeping seems to be part of identity--how we do things tells us something about who we are and where we come from; but the purpose is unifying--we all seem to clean house because we enjoy having a comfortable, welcoming space in which to live.

So domestic routines both create comfort, and to some (myself included) are comforting in themselves.  When I was younger, I learned the nineteenth-century housekeeping litany from Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books: Wash on Monday, Iron on Tuesday, Mend on Wednesday, Churn on Thursday, Clean on Friday, Bake on Saturday, Rest on Sunday.  While some of these activities are obsolete (or have become hobbies, rather than chores), the idea of having a list of daily tasks makes sense.  I have tried the other method--clean when it gets dirty--but have found it to be far more exhausting than a pre-emptive routine.  After much experimentation, this is now my weekly routine:

Monday: Clean the Kitchen, Buy Groceries
Tuesday: Laundry (Clothes)
Wednesday: Dust and Vacuum
Thursday: Laundry (Sheets and Towels)
Friday: Clean Bathrooms, Buy Groceries

These activities are, of course, supplements to the daily "neatening" tasks of putting away items and making beds and so on. This list is specific to my needs, as it's just my husband and myself in a small apartment.  I put the lighter tasks (laundry) on Tuesdays and Thursdays because those are usually teaching days for me.  My very least favorite task is planning meals--for some reason, my brain freezes up and I look with dread at the refrigerator and drag my feet on the way to the grocery store.  It has become somewhat easier since I go to the store twice a week now.  Instead of having to plan seven meals, I plan meals for Monday through Thursday, and then Friday through Sunday.

I don't always get through the week perfectly, but it is easy enough to catch up and Saturday morning is a good time to pick up any tasks that were missed during the week, but your whole day isn't spent in drudgery.

So, what are your domestic routines?  Any tips on making meal planning less painful?  Any thoughts on housekeeping as identity? 

Why Sewing is Not Relaxing...

I like sewing, but it is not relaxing like knitting or crocheting. With knitting or crocheting, you generally have a lap-size project that you only have to give minimal attention to - I frequently knit and watch a movie (I've even tried knitting and reading with some success). When you are done knitting for the day, you roll up the project and stick it in a basket. No mess.

Sewing, on the other hand, consumes your life and apartment. Instead of sitting primly, watching TV, you are crouched on the floor (see above) or hunched over a sewing machine, biting your lips. Scraps of fabric and pattern pieces litter the floor and my husband was afraid to sit on any of the furniture because I had pins stuck everywhere. I made that dress in record time because I couldn't wait to get my apartment clean again.

Sewing is exciting, but an all-consuming task. Or maybe I'm just messy!

My Stress Response

Often, when I am stressed, my body doesn't register it as stress. I think, "I am fine, I just have to get this done. I don't know why my head is killing me and my stomach hurts. I am fine." I remember once when I was a senior in high school, I was really stressed. I had papers and projects and tests due. I was applying to college. Things were not going right. I was sitting in French class and my stomach was hurting. All I could think was, "I don't feel good, I want to go home and clean my room." I know, that's my stress response. Bodily pain and an overwhelming desire to put my physical world to right. I can't get anything done until my environment is in order. I finally convinced myself that I really was sick, so I got to call home. My mom came and picked me up. My mom is completely no nonsense. If you say you are sick, you had darn well better be sick. I remember that she asked me what was wrong, and I finally broke down crying and said, "My room's a mess!" I didn't get in trouble. She didn't fuss, or make me go back to school, or make me lay down in a dark room with no books. She took me to the grocery store. She bought me frozen chicken fettucini and a slice of frozen key lime pie. She took me home, fixed me lunch, told me to lay down for a while, and then to clean my room. Sometimes I wish I could still call home and have my mom pick me up. I would like some frozen key lime pie and the chance to put my world right.