I have a love/hate relationship with Flylady.

On one hand, I’m a giant slob.  Or, at least, I have been a slob in my life.  I’m more of a Recovering Slob now.  (And one that’s been thrown into a five thousand square foot house full of dirt, no less.  It’s got the potential for a bad, bad situation. )  And if there’s one thing that Flylady knows how to do, it’s speak directly to the heart of all the Slobs in the world, mystically telling them that their lives will be a zillion times better if they just buck up and clean for a few minutes a day.

Some of her mailings and key phrases have wormed their way into brain, and come out at the weirdest times.  “Done is better than perfect” comes up a lot in work, where my extreme perfectionism makes deadlines one of those things that fly right by my head, often, for instance.  Or the whole idea that “housework done incorrectly still blesses your family”.  That kind of thing.

I am, at this moment, wearing shoes.  That’s totally a Flylady creation, because I think I was barefoot from the age of eight until the year 2000.  And I’m not all that young, so that’s a long time.

The cloying sweetness gets to me every so often.  The relentless barrage of exceedingly happy people who are just THRILLED to go clean their bathrooms gets to me a lot.  And the way she’s veered a bit off-topic, branching out and bringing in tons of “experts” to talk about everything from child-rearing to how to dress to weight loss…well, that’s where she kind of lost me.

Part of the reason I like her program, however, is probably that my mom?  Totally did Flylady before there *was* a Flylady.  She had different parts of the housekeeping that she did on different days, and she never, ever left a dish in the sink overnight.  She was a bit obsessive about it, actually.  But I can say without hesitation that waking up to get water in the morning from the tap to take with my morning vitamin, and seeing nothing other than (slightly-chipped) white porcelain?  Kind of nice.  Strange how that works.

Before I started with The Project, I tried to do the clear sink thing every day.  My husband is a very early riser, though, and by the time I would get up in the morning, the sink would be relatively full of dishes that he’d worked his magic upon while making breakfast.  Not that I resent that much.  (Ahem.  I’m TRYING not to resent it, at least.  There were days…)  But I kind of gave that up when things got all crazy around here and I lost sight of my housewifely status.  My sink was nothing short of buried under bowls and silverware.

Today, I set the timer for 15 minutes and stuck it to the stove-front.  (Another Flylady thing.)  Every time I went downstairs to reboot the laundry (yet another reference), I’d hit “start” and would get through as many as I could.  I’d put away the drip-dried ones from the last batch (NOT a Flylady thing, since she advocates drying them by hand and putting them away…the horror!), and get through a stack of them, which I’d leave to dry.

Somehow, my entire sink is clear.  Not clean yet, mind you.  But clear.  I can see stainless steel.  (Kind of.  We have the world’s worst water — well water on ancient pipes, which make everything that touches it kind of yellow-orange-rust over time, including skin and hair.  I know, it’s gross.  There’s nothing we can do about it.  Country living at its finest.)

Tomorrow, my extraneous-from-the-necessary project around here is to shine it.  Give it a good ‘ol Flylady shining.  It won’t ever look new again, but it won’t be orange, either.  It requires chemical assistance, though, so I tend to put it off as long as possible.  (We’re talking harsh chemicals that make my lungs hurt.  It’s the only thing that works on the type of rust we’ve got here, though.  And, trust me, I’ve tried everything.)

And better yet, this Project is starting to show some buds of fruit:  My husband was visibly more relaxed when he came in from work today than he has been in recent weeks/months.  It was like he was happier coming home, when the house wasn’t in a state of extreme, insane chaos.  Which stands to reason, but sometimes, it takes an iron-covered brick upside the head to get me to see the obvious.

I’m on my way to getting the base cleaning done so that maintenance can start occuring.  From there, it’s a matter of finding a schedule that works for me, and digging in on making our house here a home.  Clearing away the dirt and debris and detritus is helping immensely — both in my attitude and in my inspiration.

So maybe I do understand the people on the Flylady lists who are immensely excited to clean their bathrooms.  At least I understand a little bit.