How to keep your house clean without resentment

This one conversation with my husband led to a remarkably equal partnership, and a much neater house

This issue is sponsored by WHOOP, which opened my eyes to how stressful household management can be. WHOOP doesn’t just track your sleep and fitness—it also tracks stress. And it was eye-opening to see everyday tasks like mopping or putting away clothes raise my stress levels! I’ve started moving a little slower and listening to an audiobook during household tasks, which has helped reduce my time in the “high stress” zone. Do you wish you could more easily identify hidden sources of stress? Try WHOOP free for 30 days.

My husband Brandon grew up Mormon. (His parents are still deeply involved with the church, but he left in his early 20’s). As such, he grew up in a very traditional household. His mom did all of the cooking, cleaning, shopping, planning, organizing, and childcare. His dad worked outside of the home and did all of the lawn mowing, household repairs, and car maintenance.

Brandon never saw his dad thank his mom for her daily acts of service. Not for the delicious dinners she made, the lunches she prepared, the Thanksgivings she hosted, or the shirts she washed. To be clear, his mom didn’t expect to be thanked. And his dad was grateful, even if he didn’t explicitly express it. These were simply the roles they were expected to play in their relationship.

My husband, however, did not aspire to this dynamic. He vowed to show up differently for his family, his kids, and his household. He didn’t want his future wife to do all the work, even if he thanked her. He wanted to contribute.

As such, he came into our relationship as a competent man who cooked, cleaned, and did his own laundry. He fully expected to keep performing those tasks once he moved in with me—a subject we discussed at length while we were dating. I wasn’t ever again going to be the “default” household manager. Brandon wasn’t going to watch his wife run around and serve while he sat back and was served.

Obviously, once he moved in, our household management was immediately perfectly balanced and fair.

Well. Not quite.

Finding our balance

Despite Brandon’s good intentions (and the daily actions he took to back them up), we struggled to hit our stride. For one, he has ADHD, so his brain doesn’t work the way mine does. I am aggressively neurotypical. I can keep a general list of to-dos in my head and knock them out one at a time until they’re done. I can see something that needs to be done and remember to go back and do it three hours later. I mentally keep track of what we run out of, and remember to add it to my cart a week from today.

His brain does not work like that. He’s had ADHD since he was a child, and over the years, has developed his own tools and systems to keep him on task and accountable. He uses physical lists and electronic reminders, but also requires very clear parameters to create those lists and reminders. Even then, lists sometimes need a new list (with the same stuff written on it) to keep it fresh in his mind.

It took me far too long to realize how differently we operated. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just do it. He kept saying, “If you tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it.” And that’s true—he would have, quickly and to a reasonable standard! But I didn’t want to be the one telling him what to do. That meant I was still carrying the invisible labor of tracking the to-do list.

Plus, Brandon’s idea of “clean” and my idea of “clean” weren’t exactly the same. He’s a neat person, but my “clean” means there are zero dishes anywhere, including in the sink. His “clean” means the dishes aren’t on the counter or in the living room—they’re in the sink. My “laundry is done” means all the laundry is folded, hung, and put away. His means “there is a clean pile of clothing on my side of the bed.”

We just couldn’t figure it out. He kept asking, “What can I help you with today?” It would make me so mad. So I’d say “nothing” and do it all myself—which made him mad because he wanted to contribute, and he felt sidelined in his own house.

THE conversation

One day, after another more detailed conversation about how his ADHD affects him, a light bulb went off over my head. I needed to share the lists I kept in my head, so he could make his lists without me having to remind him all the time.

I proposed a plan: “Let’s focus first on common areas; the kitchen, the living room, and the entryway. Those are the most used, and the most distracting to all of us if they’re messy or cluttered. If there are:

• Dishes in the sink or the dish drainer

• A dishwasher to be run or emptied

• Food to be put away

• Countertops to be tidied

• Kitchen surfaces to be wiped down

• Pans to be washed

• Trash to be taken out

• Recycling to be taken out

• Shoes or hats in the living room

• Cans or cups in the living room

• Bags or boxes left in the entryway…

Take care of that. Basically, look around our common spaces and clean, tidy, and put away as much as you can.”

This time, it was like a light bulb went off over his head. (In truth, this was all he was asking for all along, I just didn’t realize it.) I then asked if there were other areas that were important to him to keep clean or tidy, like our shared bathroom, dining room, or garage. (There weren’t.)

Then, he made his list: “Dishes, counter, food, stove, living room, trash, boxes.” He kept it on the counter for a week or two, until he didn’t need it anymore.

From that point on, I never had to point out anything that needed to be done in our common spaces—he just did it. Or I just did it. Or my kid did it, because we’ve been indoctrinating him into this too. Or we did it together. Basically, whoever saw it did it. (We do pick up after ourselves, but the rule in the house is, “We all clean things up, even if it’s not yours, to keep our shared spaces functional and safe.”)

From this point on, I also knew that any time he asked, “What can I help you with today,” he meant extra stuff. He was asking about things in my day that he didn’t know about—could he run to UPS for me, pick up a prescription, or grab my coffee creamer at the grocery store? These little things were hugely helpful, and he liked knowing that he could make my day easier. (I do this for him too.)

How it works for us (and how it could work for you)

Sometimes, he does more around the house than I do. Sometimes, I do more than he does. Sometimes, I cook and clean up. Sometimes, he loads and unloads the dishwasher. Also, sometimes (not often) he leaves dishes in the sink, and I just do them without complaint. It’s not about sharing the tasks 50/50 or doing it perfectly. It’s about creating a framework and standards that feel fair and reasonable, and work equally well for both of you.

Of course it helps when you get a partner who wants to show up equally—but this conversation allowed us to make that happen in a sustainable way. It catered to the way his brain worked. It catered to the way my brain worked. It keeps our common spaces neat and comfortable. My son has a good role model in Brandon, and has learned that nobody “helps” mom around the house—it’s our house, and our collective responsibility. (His future wife will thank me.) Since then, our house has run like a well-oiled machine, free from resentment, unreasonable mess, or burnout.

TL;DR: The things I care about, you may not care about. The split you decide on may not be our split. The areas you consider important to you may not be our areas. The standards you establish as “reasonable” may not be our standards.

But the premise is solid: If these things around the house need doing, whoever sees them just does them. (And you both have to commit to looking for them. “I didn’t notice those dishes on the coffee table,” does not work here.) It’s a good system where nobody is “helping,” nobody is asking for a list, and both parties share the mental load.

May men like Brandon (and equitable systems like ours) be the new heterosexual marriage norm, AMEN.

XO, MU