The first thing that appealed to me was her approach to time management. I need a lot of help there. It might be that I just have too much on my plate, but there’s never enough time, and my husband is so done with me working at night (though that’s not likely to stop any time soon, sorry Moish.)

Julie offers three questions you should ask in order to determine your needs. After answering these questions, you’ll have a greater clarity about what to hone in on.

1. What do you want to achieve that you currently can’t? (World domination, but I’ll settle for a normal bedtime.)
2. What are you juggling your time between? (Bleurgh. Everything is not a big enough word.)
3. What are you spending too much/too little time on? (Too much = Google and the bajillion small tasks that make up a mother and homemakers life; too little = writing, recording, developing my new projects [shhh… coming soon — if I ever find the time]).

Basically, these answers proved to me that I hate keeping house and being a generally responsible person, and I want to do what I want. Nice.

Getting more granular, Julie recommends timing yourself doing different tasks. We often don’t know how much time we need for each task and either underestimate and are left scrambling when we’re off schedule, or overestimate and don’t start because it’s so daunting.

When I was first married, I hated changing linen. Wait, nope, that still hasn’t changed. But back then I was brilliant like Julie, and I timed myself changing the linen from start to finish. It took ten minutes total. So when I’m feeling really uch bluch about the whole thing, I remind myself — it’s just ten minutes.

The first step of timing yourself is estimating how long you think it’ll take. The night before I was to officially start this lab, I estimated how long my work would take — bum ba da dum… 6.5 hours. And that’s without lunch or dilly dallying, and we all know the day is over once the kids get home.

That was a bit of a shocker, was I really trying to do that much in a day? And did I really need to spend all that time? (Yes and yes, you think this article writes itself?) That was a slightly jarring moment; apparently when I finish the day with still so much left to do, it’s not entirely my laziness, but the fact that I plan my day like I’m superwoman when I’m just… me (who’s still awesome, just not superwoman).

Julie says you should ask yourself three questions before scheduling tasks:

How long will it take?

What’s the ROI (return on investment)?

What’s the deadline?

Which is kinda helpful for work related stuff, but not household chores. Like what is the ROI? I get to clean up today and tomorrow and the next day. My closet is uncluttered for a glorious day until I have no patience to hang up my clothes again. What’s the deadline? Daily! If I answer all of Julie’s questions, the solution is to opt out of most household maintenance.

And yet, I like Julie’s approach, it’s very understanding. It helps me accept parts of me that I thought needed fixing, like the fact that I left my stroller outside and open means I’m more likely to take my baby on a walk than if I have to drag it down the steps and open it one handed, so what if it’s so unsightly, and someone might steal it (Not that I know who would want an eight-year-old Britax and would walk to the back of my driveway, behind the car, and take the stroller, but that’s my first thought).

I’m like that in my kitchen too. I hate the cluttered counter tops, but if my KitchenAid or Braun isn’t out, I’m never baking, and I’m never making potato kugel or techinah. I’m literally the definition of inertia. But according to Julie, I’m just working from the inside out. Another organizer would tell me to find space for it, contain it, or something. Julie says this is what works for me.

When it comes to organization, Julie sums up her approach with the handy acronym, SPACE: Sort, Purge, Assign, Containerize, and Equalize. Setting a timer for 20 minutes, I tackled my first drawer.

Do you know how many white shells I own? It’s embarrassing considering I never wear them and have a not so secret vendetta against them. I chucked a bunch of them out and a bunch of other shells that were reasonably functional, but how many black shells do you need (don’t answer.) I was finally able to transfer a stack of brand new shells still wrapped in plastic (black, white, gray, and blue) into my drawer. (My sister was able to get shells for $3 a piece years ago, so I bought a boatload.)

They had been hiding in another drawer; I pounced on that drawer next. It held a few scarves, two three-pound weights (Once upon a time, I exercised) and all my old pre-tied snoods, I trashed all of those because I don’t want to wear them ever again.

I found most of the acronym to be same old same old (is containerize really a word??), but the real chochmah is in the “s” — sorting. On Motzaei Shabbos, I organized the bottom of one section of my seforim shrank, and when I saw I had five vases of the same size, four of which I don’t use, that made the decision a little more logical and less about “Will I need it, do I like it?”

For cleaning, Julie says to set aside specific days and times. I told you already, I tried that, I felt like a slave to my home. Next. She also suggests team-clean your house with the kids. She suggests making it a game, but I skip the game and me and my kids all do it together on Friday. Not sure how I pulled that one off. Pat yourself on the back, Esther!

Julie has systems and suggestions for laundry and meal planning and everything in between. They all have a practicality that I appreciate, but alas, I’m too frazzled to implement them. Maybe I’ll try them in my spare time (trick statement, I have no free time.)

Next up, the FlyLady method.

First, I checked out her website. Umm… for an organizational and cleaning method, I think she might want to invest in some UX design. Which just goes to show, skills don’t always transfer. The site is cluttered and busy and distracting, and the lavender and beige color scheme feels like a 90’s bathroom. But I gotta say, she’s sweet and enthusiastic and reassuring like an annoying aunt. “It takes time.” “It’s so easy.”

Then there are the names. Oh the names. Swish and swipe for cleaning your bathroom is fine, but the rubba scrubba? Seriously, I talk like that to my baby. After finally learning to navigate her site, and to follow the baby steps where she outlines what you should do first, I discover that it all starts with a shiny sink.

I’m not sure I’m her target audience, though, because she talks about emptying and scrubbing the sink clean every night. My sink is always empty at night (not that many dishes, hello, disposables). But still, I follow instructions to fill my sink with bleach and water and soak it for an hour, then drain and spray and wipe. Too much for too little.

“I don’t see a difference,” my husband says.

“Neither do I,” I respond.

The FlyLady’s basic method is to break the house into zones and tackle different zones each week. She also has you slowly building up these elaborate routines to keep your home maintained. I say elaborate for the same reason I hated my six-week cleaning routine. If I see a laundry list of things I need to do every day to keep my house in order, I just go “whatever.” The FlyLady has 15 minutes of decluttering a day when you set a timer, pick a spot in that week’s zone, and declutter for 15 minutes.

I did that, but shocker, I don’t have that much clutter. One day I cleared out all my old Mishpachas. Another day I cleared the bench in my room that I like to pile my clothes on because putting stuff away is overrated.

Following her instructions, I dried and put away all my dishes right after washing. Usually I let them air dry, because really, why intervene with a natural process. I’ll admit my counter did look nicer, but the next morning I actually had to open a drawer to find a knife to cut open a baguette. Usually it would just be on the drying rack — I think this is where Julie Morgenstern and FlyLady differ, one says keep it on the counter, the other says put it away.

Another thing the FlyLady says is that in the morning you should get dressed, down “to shoes.” I get her intention, but I’m not an inside-my-home shoe person. Period. I tried it for one day, it slowed me down and made me grumpy.

With the FlyLady in particular, I feel like I’m a slave to my home. It really is just not that important to me. I need functional, and I need seder, but wiping down stuff at set intervals really does not work for me (and I am not setting out a new dish towel every night to use for the next day, is the woman serious?)

Coming up next, what you’ve all been waiting for: How did I do with the magic of tidying up a la Marie Kondo? So for those who aren’t familiar with her (you must be living under a rock), her basic idea is to only possess items that spark joy within you. She has a minimalist aesthetic approach and wants you to be more deliberate about the things you bring into your life.

To start organizing she has you tackle your clothing first (followed by books, papers, miscellaneous, and sentimental items, in that order). I’d already organized a bunch of my clothes, but I hadn’t touched my closet — too daunting.

Following her instructions, I dumped the entire contents of my closet on my bed. Her method has you organize in bulk, tackling the entire category at once, all your clothing, all your books in one go, so it’s a dramatic, not gradual shift. No 15 minutes of decluttering a la FlyLady.

Let me digress a moment and talk about my clothes and closet. I have, over the past few years, tried to organize my clothes. I winnow them when I’m feeling brave, but the biggest and lasting changes I’ve made have been to color-coordinate my closet and changing over to those nice velvet hangers for a uniform look (Don’t worry, I’m still a cheapo, they were on sale in Costco). But still, it’s stuffed. My husband regularly complains that I’m encroaching on his territory, never mind his territory is about a square inch of hanging space.

Also, I love clothes. Like really, really love. Clothing to me is not just something to wear (sometimes I wish I could be that practical); it’s an expression of personality.

Ok, back to my closet. The next step is to pick each item up, hold it close, and see if it sparks joy within you. If not, thank it, and put it aside to give/throw away. It sounds fluffy but nice. The real question is, does it work?

I started with my Shabbos clothes. I have suit coats and plain suits and blazers and blouses and skirts. I picked each item up, winced, told myself I hadn’t worn it in years and even if it came back in style I still wouldn’t wear it, and put in on the discard pile. The interesting thing about sparking joy is that it doesn’t discriminate. H&M tops made the cut, while Elie Tahari ones were dumped.

My husband came in to watch me.

“You’re not saying thank you,” he said.

“I forgot,” I admitted. I continued, and when I came to the next reject I held it close, said thank you, and oddly found myself kissing it. My clothing holds so many memories for me; the black jacket I wore on my first date, the white on white suit coat I bought with my own money that made me feel majestic, the blue and white striped J.Crew shirt I got on sale for $5 because I had to look more like shiur counselor material, not the lifeguard I usually was. There was the floral Ellen Tracy dress I bought a week before my wedding and the pink brocade Kay Unger dress I found in Annie Sez for $49 that I bought for Shabbos Sheva Brachos. Some were outdated, some were pilled, some were just not my style, but all are so much a part of me.

And I realized I made a big mistake by following Marie Kondo’s clothing first rule.

In her hierarchy, clothing must be tackled first, sentimental items last. But for me my clothing is incredibly sentimental. Oh my goodness, the trauma! Oh, and the mortification — I found a black knit top with large decorative gold buttons with tags still attached. How have I become that indulgent person who doesn’t even know what’s in her closet?

In the end I counted 53 empty hangers and 122 used hangers. That’s a big purge percentage wise! I put everything I was keeping back into the closet. I filled two large garbage bags; they were so heavy I could barely schlep them.

Later, when I listed a few items I discarded to my husband and mentioned my blue knit Michael Kors sweater he went, “NO! How could you?” And he was right, how could I? I had bought that sweater while we were engaged. I knew he loved the color, and I wore it for the first time when we went to City Hall to apply for a marriage license.

I went back to the garbage bags and fished it out — it thankfully was close to the surface. Will I ever wear it again? I don’t know. But shalom bayis comes first, right?

I offered my clothes to a friend who, along with her two daughters, might find pieces they liked. I never got clothes out of my house that fast. I would have caved if I’d waited.

The next thing I cleaned was the closet in the bathroom. I took everything out of its packaging like Marie suggests. I wasn’t removing labels, that’s just stupid. But I got rid of the travel moisturizer the hospital gave me when I gave birth to my son. It was a year old, and I still haven’t even cracked the seal, and I like my Aveeno.

I discovered I have two toothpastes waiting for me, which is good to know, because I’d been eyeing at my current toothpaste, mentally calculating when I’d have to go to CVS and what a pain that will be. Whoops. This is how companies make money, over absentminded unorganized balabustas like me (can I even call myself that? Will the association sue me for defamation?)

“Behold!” I told my husband, opening the closet door. He beamed. I really should have left my clothes for last.

The Results

My home is marginally more organized. And I guess I have more of a system in place to address its needs, like Windex and paper towels in the bathroom (Thank you, swish and swipe).

So who wins, who loses? And diplomatically, the answer is… it depends.

If you need a system to clean and maintain your house, the FlyLady has the most details and routines (and the most annoying emails).

If you need ideas for all aspects of life that work for you individually, go with Julie. She has time management, cleaning, organizing, parenting, the works.

If you want to overhaul your whole life and start from scratch, Marie Kondo is very cleansing. And I gotta say, that hugging and thank you bit makes a difference. I felt like I was giving my clothes a proper send off, a funeral of sorts.

A few days in, and I’m still wiping down my sink. It looks nice. There’s nothing practical about it, but supposedly it’s all about how it makes you feel. Which comes back to Julie Morgenstern, who’s into working from the inside out. I’d feel even better not doing any of this. Anyone sponsoring full-time cleaning help?

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 706)