I’ve been following along with the Year of Less.  While I’m not doing all the challenges, I am getting ideas to simplify my life.  The latest challenge is a month without the dryer.  As much as I’d love a large clothesline, we are not allowed to have them where I live.  That’s right.  I am not allowed to have a clothesline in my own back yard.

But I have one.  Secretly.

I’m a rebel.

I have one single clothesline strung from the latch of the shed to a fence post.  It is hidden from view and is just large enough to hang a day’s worth of diapers.  The ones shown above no longer fit Baby Spork.  Those were the newborn all-in-one’s that he’s grown out of already (sniff!).

So, while I can’t give up my dryer completely… I can be a bit rebellious and sun bleach those poop stains.

(I also have pink flamingos in my back yard.  Another taboo item where we live. I’m stickin’ it to the man! Or something…)


Mr. Fork does dishes.  (I can hear your gasps now.)  A man doing dishes?  How absurd!  But it’s true!

He unloads the dishes nearly every day, sometimes without being asked. (I think we’ll need some smelling salts…)

I often hear women complaining that their husbands don’t help out.  They never do dishes, they don’t fold laundry, etc.  Granted, these are often women in their 60s and 70s and they’re from a different era.  But when I hear people in their 20s and 30s complain about this same thing, it irritates me.

Why does my husband unload the dishwasher?  Because I asked him to.  It’s that simple.

Several years ago, when we were both working full time and I was trying to keep house by myself, I lost it.  One night I just snapped and I yelled at him for not helping me.  His response?  “I’m not a mind reader.  You have to tell me what you want me to do.”

Imagine that, he’s not psychic.

Anyway.  We hashed it out and discussed a fair balance of chores.  I hate unloading the dishwasher and he hates loading it.  He does his own laundry and I do mine as well as the sheets and towels. (The laundry thing was his idea.  I don’t wash his socks in pairs apparently.)  He does the garbage and the toilets and I do the tubs and sinks.  And so on.

Does this mean he does his chores without ever having to be asked?  No.  He does his laundry on his own schedule and that’s perfectly fine with me.  I let him know when the trash is full and the dishes are clean because they don’t pop up little reminders on his screen and tell him so. (But wouldn’t that be neat?)

My husband does the dishes because I asked for help instead of silently resenting him for not knowing it intuitively.

Today is my first “official” day as a housewife.  Mr. Fork went back to work after two glorious months off.  Thankfully, Baby Spork is in good spirits today.

Tomorrow we hit the two month mark for real.  He was 8 weeks as of Friday, but that whole more than 28 day month thing makes the week and month marks different.  He is really working on learning to smile and “talk”.

I’m on my third cup of coffee and have started in on the chores of the day.  With the new meal plan and budget in place, going out to the store to play is not an option.  Staying home with my baby is a dream come true.  Knowing that I have no excuse not to sweep and mop the floor is not…

But that smile makes it all worth it, don’t you think?

8 weeks old!  How did that happen?  Baby Spork celebrated by keeping Mr. Fork up all night.  (Because I married an amazing man, I got several glorious hours of sleep.)

When a Spoon meets a Fork and they fall in love, eventually you end up with a baby Spork.  We’re nearly two months in and this will be the new home of my crazy ramblings as I enter the life of a stay at home mom.  Prepare to be bombarded with fits of craftiness, yummy goodness from the kitchen, and pictures of adorable baby Spork.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.