Well. Fa is officially in her "big girl bed". I just tucked her in and she is silent. Wait. She is singing a little and talking to herself, as usual. She was so happy to get into it. All day she wanted to hang out in her room with her new bed and new furniture. (Thanks A for the wonderful gift!)
I just lost my baby.
I just watched her fly out of the room with the crib; in pieces, just like my heart.
She is a big girl now. No more crib. No more safety of the bars to keep her in one spot. No more naps (at least I think so...) No more knowing that she is safe and confined.
What have I done?
She was always a good sleeper. I am not anticipating horrible nights and long, overdrawn bedtimes. I'm simply mourning the loss of my baby girl.
Good night my love bug, sleep tight in your new "big girl bed"...To be continued...
________________________________________________________
Updated!
What a big girl...She slept all night in her new bed. She is well rested and raring to go! I am so proud of my baby/big girl.
Now, nap time should be f-u-n today.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
OK, I'm scared.
Talk about weirdos. Someone googled "lick mommys shit stories" and my blog came up. (Stat Counter is amazing!) What the fuck? This scares me. I know, I've been googled before with some wacky searches...but they all kinda made sense in some weird sorta way. This is the most outstanding.
Should I be concerned? This is the exact reason why I hesitate to post Fa's face online. Who the hell knows who's really out there.
Jeez.
Yo, crazy person! The least you could do is comment: Whoops, wrong place...sorry I took a wrong turn somewhere in the perv-world I live in. I didn't mean to be so twisted and land at your blog with my stupid search. Keep doing what you're doing, I won't bother you again.
crapola.
Should I be concerned? This is the exact reason why I hesitate to post Fa's face online. Who the hell knows who's really out there.
Jeez.
Yo, crazy person! The least you could do is comment: Whoops, wrong place...sorry I took a wrong turn somewhere in the perv-world I live in. I didn't mean to be so twisted and land at your blog with my stupid search. Keep doing what you're doing, I won't bother you again.
crapola.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
If you can't wear 'em...
...Create beautiful artwork out of them...
Fa doesn't like to wear her undies...but she sure does like to play with them...she had an adventure...she got to create beautiful masterpieces using her new undies as the medium.
Fa doesn't like to wear her undies...but she sure does like to play with them...she had an adventure...she got to create beautiful masterpieces using her new undies as the medium.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Learning to spell
So, we like to play in the kitchen once in a while and spell words with the letters on the fridge.
This is just a sampling of the words Fa knows how to spell. Her knowledge base is growing exponentially. I am so impressed by her.
Damnit I love this kid!!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Fartsie
This dog will not stop pissing in his crate. I let him out often. He pees and poops normally. But if he drinks, he pees. What the?
I can NOT sit on top of him every waking second. I am gonna lose my ever lovin' mind. What did I get my poor-stressed out self into?
Anyone want a puppy?
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Dear A,
The past few days have been very difficult for you. I'm sorry. You need to know that you are not alone. I am here for you whenever and wherever you need me. I would drop everything for you. We all would. You are our rock whenever times are tough and its our turn to reciprocate. You need us, we are here. Any time, any day. You are not alone.
Please know that even though you are hurting. Things will get better in time. It will never be the same, but you will be able to move forward. You have to. Your family needs you to be tough now because you are our pillar of strength. I need you to be strong because if you can't do it, no one can. I look up to you for laughter, peace, love, compassion and mostly your resilience. I look at you as "Mom". You know that. You have been more of a mom than anyone. You have been by my side through everything good and bad and I need you to continue to be there. Maybe this is selfish to say, but I wouldn't be able to do this if you weren't here rooting me on. I couldn't lose you too. Please be strong.
Life has taken a different turn but we are here to help each other and I depend on that. I depend on you being there for me, but I also depend on being there for you. That's what I am here for. A shoulder, an ear, a hug when you need it most. I want to be there for you, you were always there for me.
When things lighten up, we will get back to ourselves again. We will torment the young boys in the bars, we will make fun of everyone in our path, we will curse and drink like pirates and we will mourn our loss. But we will do it with laughter and sarcasm, just the way he would want it. He wouldn't want you mourning forever, that wasn't his style. You have done everything possible to respect his wishes and he is grateful for you. He must be proud of you. You were his partner in crime and the one who loved him most. And he would want you to continue to be the strong and powerful woman that you have always been. Don't give up. We need you. I need you. I love you so very much and I just wanted you to know that.
Hug.
Please know that even though you are hurting. Things will get better in time. It will never be the same, but you will be able to move forward. You have to. Your family needs you to be tough now because you are our pillar of strength. I need you to be strong because if you can't do it, no one can. I look up to you for laughter, peace, love, compassion and mostly your resilience. I look at you as "Mom". You know that. You have been more of a mom than anyone. You have been by my side through everything good and bad and I need you to continue to be there. Maybe this is selfish to say, but I wouldn't be able to do this if you weren't here rooting me on. I couldn't lose you too. Please be strong.
Life has taken a different turn but we are here to help each other and I depend on that. I depend on you being there for me, but I also depend on being there for you. That's what I am here for. A shoulder, an ear, a hug when you need it most. I want to be there for you, you were always there for me.
When things lighten up, we will get back to ourselves again. We will torment the young boys in the bars, we will make fun of everyone in our path, we will curse and drink like pirates and we will mourn our loss. But we will do it with laughter and sarcasm, just the way he would want it. He wouldn't want you mourning forever, that wasn't his style. You have done everything possible to respect his wishes and he is grateful for you. He must be proud of you. You were his partner in crime and the one who loved him most. And he would want you to continue to be the strong and powerful woman that you have always been. Don't give up. We need you. I need you. I love you so very much and I just wanted you to know that.
Hug.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Lickers
Fa and I have a thing. We like to lick each other. It's a new game we play that might gross other people out but it's a barrel of laughs for us.
She giggles and squeals with delight when I take her down to lick her face. But she starts it. She licks me first and then runs away. So I hafta take control of the situaltion and get her back. It's only fair.
BD thinks it's a terrible game. Especially when I get mad at him when he chases her around the house saying he's gonna saute her and eat her with wine and salad. That's gross.
I'm allowed to lick her. I carried her in my soul for 39 weeks. She is my heart running around outside my body. What's wrong with a little saliva being passed if we are both of each other's flesh? Mamma kitties do it to their litter all the time!
Twisted? Sick? You bet!
I love it. I love her. She's my air.
She giggles and squeals with delight when I take her down to lick her face. But she starts it. She licks me first and then runs away. So I hafta take control of the situaltion and get her back. It's only fair.
BD thinks it's a terrible game. Especially when I get mad at him when he chases her around the house saying he's gonna saute her and eat her with wine and salad. That's gross.
I'm allowed to lick her. I carried her in my soul for 39 weeks. She is my heart running around outside my body. What's wrong with a little saliva being passed if we are both of each other's flesh? Mamma kitties do it to their litter all the time!
Twisted? Sick? You bet!
I love it. I love her. She's my air.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Why I hate Scorpion Woman
I saw my "trainer" again the other day. I hate her. Not because she's cute, young and little and built like a brick shit house. But because she is an amateur who is trying to pass herself off as a reputable, experienced personal trainer. She is not. I know this. Now, I may have mentioned in previous posts that I was a dance teacher in my former life. I know a thing or two about kinesiology and physical well being. I had a healthy body and it was quite nice. I spent all my time dancing and working out. It's just been a really long while and I wanted to find someone who could get me motivated enough to get me going on my own. She is NOT that person. She is looking to build her resume.
In our initial meeting, she proceeded to explain all of her certifications and experience but when I asked her about my Target Heart Rate (THR) during cardio workouts she couldn't answer my question. I wanted to know what the percentage means when she said I was at 65% intensity at my fastest THR. She said it was the percentage of the rate that I work out. Duh? I still don't get it.
What it really means is:
"Healthy Heart Zone (Warm up) --- 50 - 60% of maximum heart rate: The easiest zone and probably the best zone for people just starting a fitness program. It can also be used as a warm up for more serious walkers. This zone has been shown to help decrease body fat, blood pressure and cholesterol. It also decreases the risk of degenerative diseases and has a low risk of injury. 85% of calories burned in this zone are fats!"
That's kinda what she shoulda said, no? It means in the height of my cardio, (when my heart is beating fastest) I am at the "warm up" stage in my workout. But in reality it feels like I'm gonna pass out. Not good. At least that's how I interpret the information. But I am a laywoman when it comes to being technical and especially at math. As a trainer, with all of her credentials, shouldn't she be able to explain that to me clearly?
Then this week, I asked her if we could work on my abs because I know they are the weakest part of my body and they are what holds the rest of me upright. Without strong abs, I am nothing. (I also wanted her to show me the ab equipment so I could use it on my own!) Nope. She refused. She wanted to work on my back. My back is weak. It's weak because my abs are weak. Turns out, we worked out my back until I couldn't stand straight. Then I had zero energy to actually do the ab workout. Now, I am sore again, without using an abdominal muscle. I know my back is related to my abs when it comes to "core/trunk muscles" but if the weakest part can't help the part we are targeting, shouldn't we reverse the workout and strengthen the weaker parts first? Just a thought.
She also had me some 'at-tit-ude' when I told her I couldn't work out with her 5 days a week for many reasons. a) I can't afford a thousand personal training sessions at 80$ a clip. b) I will get discouraged because I can't do it all correctly all the time. c) I can't go to the gym 5 days a week because I do still have a child and a husband at home that would like to see me once in a while. d) I have a life, believe it or not, other than working out. I asked her if she understood and she fucking said, "Well, not reallyyyyy but if that's whatchyou want." Psycho hose beast.
She's a kid trying to rack up some PT hours for her resume and I won't allow her to do that and jeopardize my body. Her date book is empty by the way, my name was the only other person in there besides poor "Bruce". I sure don't know who he is but he must be an asshole if he is allowing her to train him. Or pimp him out, she might be a madam for all I know. She does like to flirt with all the hot male bodies that flank the floor, kissing their biceps in the ceiling to floor wall-mirrors.
There are other reasons why I hate the Scorpion Woman, but I'll spare you, dear reader, the boring stuff. If you got this far, bless you. If you know anything about training the body back into some semblance of what used to be, drop me a line. I'd love to hear from someone who actually knows what they are talking about.
In the meantime, I'll see Scorpion Woman one more time, if I don't call up and cancel on her skinny ass. -Since she strong armed me (literally) into planning another session with her. I swear she is showing me those ab machines next time. If not, I will kick her in the neck.
In our initial meeting, she proceeded to explain all of her certifications and experience but when I asked her about my Target Heart Rate (THR) during cardio workouts she couldn't answer my question. I wanted to know what the percentage means when she said I was at 65% intensity at my fastest THR. She said it was the percentage of the rate that I work out. Duh? I still don't get it.
What it really means is:
"Healthy Heart Zone (Warm up) --- 50 - 60% of maximum heart rate: The easiest zone and probably the best zone for people just starting a fitness program. It can also be used as a warm up for more serious walkers. This zone has been shown to help decrease body fat, blood pressure and cholesterol. It also decreases the risk of degenerative diseases and has a low risk of injury. 85% of calories burned in this zone are fats!"
That's kinda what she shoulda said, no? It means in the height of my cardio, (when my heart is beating fastest) I am at the "warm up" stage in my workout. But in reality it feels like I'm gonna pass out. Not good. At least that's how I interpret the information. But I am a laywoman when it comes to being technical and especially at math. As a trainer, with all of her credentials, shouldn't she be able to explain that to me clearly?
Then this week, I asked her if we could work on my abs because I know they are the weakest part of my body and they are what holds the rest of me upright. Without strong abs, I am nothing. (I also wanted her to show me the ab equipment so I could use it on my own!) Nope. She refused. She wanted to work on my back. My back is weak. It's weak because my abs are weak. Turns out, we worked out my back until I couldn't stand straight. Then I had zero energy to actually do the ab workout. Now, I am sore again, without using an abdominal muscle. I know my back is related to my abs when it comes to "core/trunk muscles" but if the weakest part can't help the part we are targeting, shouldn't we reverse the workout and strengthen the weaker parts first? Just a thought.
She also had me some 'at-tit-ude' when I told her I couldn't work out with her 5 days a week for many reasons. a) I can't afford a thousand personal training sessions at 80$ a clip. b) I will get discouraged because I can't do it all correctly all the time. c) I can't go to the gym 5 days a week because I do still have a child and a husband at home that would like to see me once in a while. d) I have a life, believe it or not, other than working out. I asked her if she understood and she fucking said, "Well, not reallyyyyy but if that's whatchyou want." Psycho hose beast.
She's a kid trying to rack up some PT hours for her resume and I won't allow her to do that and jeopardize my body. Her date book is empty by the way, my name was the only other person in there besides poor "Bruce". I sure don't know who he is but he must be an asshole if he is allowing her to train him. Or pimp him out, she might be a madam for all I know. She does like to flirt with all the hot male bodies that flank the floor, kissing their biceps in the ceiling to floor wall-mirrors.
There are other reasons why I hate the Scorpion Woman, but I'll spare you, dear reader, the boring stuff. If you got this far, bless you. If you know anything about training the body back into some semblance of what used to be, drop me a line. I'd love to hear from someone who actually knows what they are talking about.
In the meantime, I'll see Scorpion Woman one more time, if I don't call up and cancel on her skinny ass. -Since she strong armed me (literally) into planning another session with her. I swear she is showing me those ab machines next time. If not, I will kick her in the neck.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
This is your brain...with PMS
I lost my bra. Period.
I can't seem to find it. I took it off last night before bed. I can't remember where I put it. Harumph.
I wanted to put it in the hamper. Not there. Not back in my drawer. Not on my end table beside my bed. Not in my bathroom where I took it off in the first place. I just don't know.
This is very strange...but I did do this once, so it's not all that strange if you think about it.
Oh well...good thing I have a few more to lose, um, I mean use.
I can't seem to find it. I took it off last night before bed. I can't remember where I put it. Harumph.
I wanted to put it in the hamper. Not there. Not back in my drawer. Not on my end table beside my bed. Not in my bathroom where I took it off in the first place. I just don't know.
This is very strange...but I did do this once, so it's not all that strange if you think about it.
Oh well...good thing I have a few more to lose, um, I mean use.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Potty training + Puppy + PMS = Fucking shoot me in the neck
What the fuck happened here? I wake up this morning to Fa wanting to read this book a bajillion times. I ask her if she wants to sit on the potty and I get a resounding YES! We get on the potty happily, she wants to read the book another gazillion times. I ask her if she wants to see her piles and piles of undies and it all goes downhill from there.
She now will only wear the undies and refuses to wear the pull ups. The catch. She WILL NOT GO on the potty. She does the all too familiar pee pee dance and I drag her kicking and screaming to the potty. 'IF' I get her to sit on the ever lovin' potty she holds it until she comes off the farkin' thing...then she pees on my floor and screams and cries: "Mommy get me out of here!"
I tried to bribe her with this and told her if she goes on the potty she can open it and play with it. But I had to take it away from her because there was nothing in the pot and she screamed and cried some more. What the fuck am I doing here? I am sliding in a downward spiral with this potty shit. (Pardon the shitty pun)
To top it off, RT still has to go out but I can't leave Fa in undies alone in the living room. She panics. (She's panicking a lot this morning.) And the dog goes on the side of the house on a leash. We don't have a fence. Of course.
I have to pee, I'll be back...
_____________________________________
OK, I've had some time to think about this. What's the big friggin' deal about this toilet thing anyway? The kid doesn't wanna go in it. What am I gonna do? I can't very well force her. I tried. It doesn't work. She stiffens up and refuses. Then she pees on the floor. (The dog goes in the right spot more than her now.)
I give up. I am a terrible mother and a horrible example for potty training. I have no farking idea how to get her to go so I'll just wait until she tells me she hasta go on the potty herself. I have tried everything else. Showing her, teaching her how it works, playing with stuffed animals on the pot. Everything. I give up.
Any suggestions?
She now will only wear the undies and refuses to wear the pull ups. The catch. She WILL NOT GO on the potty. She does the all too familiar pee pee dance and I drag her kicking and screaming to the potty. 'IF' I get her to sit on the ever lovin' potty she holds it until she comes off the farkin' thing...then she pees on my floor and screams and cries: "Mommy get me out of here!"
I tried to bribe her with this and told her if she goes on the potty she can open it and play with it. But I had to take it away from her because there was nothing in the pot and she screamed and cried some more. What the fuck am I doing here? I am sliding in a downward spiral with this potty shit. (Pardon the shitty pun)
To top it off, RT still has to go out but I can't leave Fa in undies alone in the living room. She panics. (She's panicking a lot this morning.) And the dog goes on the side of the house on a leash. We don't have a fence. Of course.
I have to pee, I'll be back...
_____________________________________
OK, I've had some time to think about this. What's the big friggin' deal about this toilet thing anyway? The kid doesn't wanna go in it. What am I gonna do? I can't very well force her. I tried. It doesn't work. She stiffens up and refuses. Then she pees on the floor. (The dog goes in the right spot more than her now.)
I give up. I am a terrible mother and a horrible example for potty training. I have no farking idea how to get her to go so I'll just wait until she tells me she hasta go on the potty herself. I have tried everything else. Showing her, teaching her how it works, playing with stuffed animals on the pot. Everything. I give up.
Any suggestions?
Saturday, September 9, 2006
6th Avenue Billboard
6th Aven Billboard
Originally uploaded by Wonder Mom & Princess Stinkfoot.
These old billboards painted on the sides of the brick buildings are my favorites. There aren't all that many left anymore and when I see one, I get very excited.
Friday, September 8, 2006
Friday...and.
Happy Friday!
( Even though every day is like Friday for me.)
I am going to a Mom's Night Out tonight. Woohooo. Can you smell what the Margarita is cookin'?
I know. Detox. Well it's over, pretty much and I've been doing well...so I'm treating myself. I feel great and energized! So I deserve a treat. My treat: Margarita, straight up with salt.
I'm still sore from the gym, but I'm going again tomorrow. Hopefully in time, it'll get better. Figures that these past few days, 'Miss Independent' wants me to carry her every friggin' where. She has been climbing into her car seat for months...This week: "Mommy put me in the car seat please!" What the?
Anyway, Chelle tagged me (eek) and I'm not sure what to do so I'm tryin' here...
( Even though every day is like Friday for me.)
I am going to a Mom's Night Out tonight. Woohooo. Can you smell what the Margarita is cookin'?
I know. Detox. Well it's over, pretty much and I've been doing well...so I'm treating myself. I feel great and energized! So I deserve a treat. My treat: Margarita, straight up with salt.
I'm still sore from the gym, but I'm going again tomorrow. Hopefully in time, it'll get better. Figures that these past few days, 'Miss Independent' wants me to carry her every friggin' where. She has been climbing into her car seat for months...This week: "Mommy put me in the car seat please!" What the?
Anyway, Chelle tagged me (eek) and I'm not sure what to do so I'm tryin' here...
- Morning : suck
- Pets : stink
- Snow : bites
- Bounce : boobs
- Crazy : working out
- Coffee:
- dance:
- ass:
- toe:
- kiss:
Thursday, September 7, 2006
Journey Through Hell and Back...A Comedy.
Once upon a time when The Laundress was still “JJ”, she was thin, muscular and energetic. She taught dance every day and went to the gym/took fitness classes in the mornings before work. She was still always cranky but at least she had a 'great bod'. Today, she feels old, washed up and tired. Motherhood can really beat the shit out of you, by the way.
Tuesday, September 5, 2006
Funny things F did this weekend...
Well, at least I think they are funny.
- Licked my face whenever I kissed her
- Sucked her thumb and then wiped her ' thumb juice' on my arm
- Called me 'Mama'
- Sang (at the top of her lungs) songs that she made up
- Farted on us and giggled saying..."Thunderbutt!"
- Counted to 100
- Put the Mr. Potatohead eyes on her hands like Oobi
- Banged her head, in the car to music
- Looked at all the photo albums we have to find "Mama in the pictures"
- Drank out of a regular cup like a big girl
- Refused to eat anything unless she had the big girl cup next to her
- Picked out all her own outfits
- Told the dog: "I'ts okay boy, I'm here, I'm here. Don't be afraid"
- Took all of her rubber duckies to the 'doctor duck' for a check up
- Read this book to me cover to cover, word for word
- Told me to hold her hand while crossing the street
- Kept her "eye on the ball" and learned to catch
- Needed Daddy to read her a bedtime story every night
- Liked to dance naked in her room before the story was read
- Fought me to go to bed because she wanted to lay on the floor totally nudie
- Cuddled with her Daddy on his lap during the story
- Called out, "Mommy's turn" after Daddy read to her
- Told me "I Love you Mama" as I lay her in the crib
Saturday, September 2, 2006
The choppers are in. Finally. Sigh.
F's two year molars are almost all in. You know what that means right? Crying. Tantrums. Edgy girls. Short fuses. Fighting non stop. Yup. She's teething. There's only one more molar to finish its debut and then she's done. And you know what? I'm sad.
When F was born, I waited patiently for her first tooth. (It didn't arrive until she was 11 months old.) I waited and waited and frickin' waited and nothing. Then one day, I saw them cutting through pink, swollen gums. I cried. I was so happy but so scared that teething would be disastrous. I thought, jeez she's got a lOOOOOOOng way to go until all of her teeth are in. This is gonna suck big moose...But mostly, she was pretty good. She drooled, cried, bit on things. Then as fast as it started, she had most of her choppers. Her one year molars were terrible. They came late too. She had bad issues with those suckers.
Then we waited again. For a long. long while until this week, when we noticed the last of the Mohicans show their crowns. All this time I thought she was being a total 'ho because she was sick last week. Nope. Teeth. Those suckers are ripping through her poor little gums like gangbusters. (And they always come in late too. Bastards!)
Why am I sad, you ask? Because this is just another proof positive that my baby is growing up. No more teething, a milestone of infancy and toddlerdom. She's onto bigger and better things. All of her choppers are in now. Pretty soon, the tooth fairy will be paying us regular visits. And I will never have her slobbering and gnawing goat like on plastic toys again. It sounds nice, but I was so worried that teething was gonna be terrible that once again, I didn't get to enjoy being in the moment. I never live in the moment. Ever. It seems that I blinked and I missed teething. That is why I'm sad.
She's a big girl now and I know there is so much more to look forward to. But. But. I feel like I missed out on a lot of the other infant things that are supposed to be so cool because of that damn PPD. I hate that shit. I am resentful to it; and if I could I would kick it in the balls and call it dickface. Fucker.
I am so happy that F is growing and thriving and I know how lucky I am to be around such a wonderful little person but I'm still mad. I have the right to be don't I? I'm not mad at her, I'm mad at that fuckin' PPD kickin' my ass and taking away special moments that I'll never get back. That's why I'm mad. Damn you PPD, damn you to hell.
When F was born, I waited patiently for her first tooth. (It didn't arrive until she was 11 months old.) I waited and waited and frickin' waited and nothing. Then one day, I saw them cutting through pink, swollen gums. I cried. I was so happy but so scared that teething would be disastrous. I thought, jeez she's got a lOOOOOOOng way to go until all of her teeth are in. This is gonna suck big moose...But mostly, she was pretty good. She drooled, cried, bit on things. Then as fast as it started, she had most of her choppers. Her one year molars were terrible. They came late too. She had bad issues with those suckers.
Then we waited again. For a long. long while until this week, when we noticed the last of the Mohicans show their crowns. All this time I thought she was being a total 'ho because she was sick last week. Nope. Teeth. Those suckers are ripping through her poor little gums like gangbusters. (And they always come in late too. Bastards!)
Why am I sad, you ask? Because this is just another proof positive that my baby is growing up. No more teething, a milestone of infancy and toddlerdom. She's onto bigger and better things. All of her choppers are in now. Pretty soon, the tooth fairy will be paying us regular visits. And I will never have her slobbering and gnawing goat like on plastic toys again. It sounds nice, but I was so worried that teething was gonna be terrible that once again, I didn't get to enjoy being in the moment. I never live in the moment. Ever. It seems that I blinked and I missed teething. That is why I'm sad.
She's a big girl now and I know there is so much more to look forward to. But. But. I feel like I missed out on a lot of the other infant things that are supposed to be so cool because of that damn PPD. I hate that shit. I am resentful to it; and if I could I would kick it in the balls and call it dickface. Fucker.
I am so happy that F is growing and thriving and I know how lucky I am to be around such a wonderful little person but I'm still mad. I have the right to be don't I? I'm not mad at her, I'm mad at that fuckin' PPD kickin' my ass and taking away special moments that I'll never get back. That's why I'm mad. Damn you PPD, damn you to hell.
Friday, September 1, 2006
A Good Wife?
I got an email from my friend last night. People Puh-lease...Can you believe someone wrote this at one time in the not-so-distant past.
C'mon now. Was it ever really like that or was that just on TV?
First of all, here's a few reasons why I would never do well in the 1950's (following the order of the list in the article).
~I don't cook. I never have, I never will.
~I am always in sweats unless I'm leaving the house.
~I'm grouchy as hell. Most of the time.
~The house is filled with clutter.
~Toys are strewn everywhere, upstairs downstairs, the basement.
~We don't own a fireplace and if I did, p'shaw.
~Fa has her OWN agenda, not BD's and especially not mine. She does what she wants- doesn't matter when BD gets home.
~I AM happy to see him, but I will not dance a tango upon his entrance. Sorry.
~We listen do to each other and have the respect for each other that we each deserve.
~The evening is OURS not just his...What the hell?
~My Goal: try not to jump out a window or choke the dog.
~I am a complainer. I complain. I do. Really.
~Drink? Am I a bartender now too?
~I constantly question his judgement..As does he with my questionable behavior.
~Oh, I know my place alright...and it ain't the laundry room!
*I can't even stand that the thought is out there that women do this. I wanna scream and bang someone's head against the wall when I read this. (Preferably the author of this article)
*Whaddya think?
C'mon now. Was it ever really like that or was that just on TV?
First of all, here's a few reasons why I would never do well in the 1950's (following the order of the list in the article).
~I don't cook. I never have, I never will.
~I am always in sweats unless I'm leaving the house.
~I'm grouchy as hell. Most of the time.
~The house is filled with clutter.
~Toys are strewn everywhere, upstairs downstairs, the basement.
~We don't own a fireplace and if I did, p'shaw.
~Fa has her OWN agenda, not BD's and especially not mine. She does what she wants- doesn't matter when BD gets home.
~I AM happy to see him, but I will not dance a tango upon his entrance. Sorry.
~We listen do to each other and have the respect for each other that we each deserve.
~The evening is OURS not just his...What the hell?
~My Goal: try not to jump out a window or choke the dog.
~I am a complainer. I complain. I do. Really.
~Drink? Am I a bartender now too?
~I constantly question his judgement..As does he with my questionable behavior.
~Oh, I know my place alright...and it ain't the laundry room!
*I can't even stand that the thought is out there that women do this. I wanna scream and bang someone's head against the wall when I read this. (Preferably the author of this article)
*Whaddya think?
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