Blog Archives

The Fountain of Youth

   It all started last night when Child Number Three forced me to become a housewife. I never strive to becoming the model housekeeper, for there is far too much upkeep involved. I don’t want the house to always be glistening in the sunlight. I have gotten used to the floating dust storms that occur every time something is moved or even looked at. I would much rather sit back and watch a few shows and make a couple of crafts. Where is the fun in working my butt off to follow all the homemaking gurus in all their advice books in their attempt to turn Mess Queens into Domestic Goddesses. Where are all the guides to Becoming A Happy Mom with Loads of ME Time? Why must we burden ourselves to prove to our friends how perfect we are?

Because we aren’t.

   Sometimes my house is clean, and sometimes it is hard to tell if it there is even a floor. Read the rest of this entry

The Rooftop Shouting of Mom Excellence

Ever feel like you want to stand upon the rooftop and shout as loud as your voice can go? Whether it be about the fact that you love someone dearly and you want the whole world to know, or about how incredibly awesome you are and how you deserve to be heard, or any reason at all, many of us have been there. Well, even though I have felt the latter, sadly, the times have been numbered and can be counted on my own two hands. I spend more time being hard on myself , unreasonable judgmental, and highly unforgiving. Read the rest of this entry

Why so violent? Beats me.

What should I do, my kids beat me up. I am sure there is a hotline for something like this, but hey, what else are blogs for.

It all starts bright and early in the morn. Occasionally, it isn’t yet morning, but you can tell the sky is thinking about it. The little guy, who miraculously manages to join me in the bed, prefers to let me know of his presence quite violently. He throws himself over my belly, which of course suffers dearly when so highly intoxicated with urine. You know those times your eyes blink open, warning you to pee so your bladder doesn’t explode. Those times you just snooze your brain messages to return to those blissful moments of slumber. Ouch. Read the rest of this entry

In the end I’m gonna be standing at the beginning…

I am engulfed with freedom. However, now that it is here, I do not even know where to begin.  I had disappeared from the blogworld for quite some time now, due to insane and sometimes lovely pandemonium, as previously and partially mentioned. Now I can do whatever I want.“Only as high as I reach can I grow, only as far as I seek can I go, only as deep as I look can I see, only as much as I dream can I be.(Karen Ravn) Who can say it better than that? I can do whatever I dream of. Anything but a doctor, lawyer, merchant, or chief, or any high-end professional for that matter. I can’t do anything that would entail prior education because high school wont cover “education”. So that leaves me with an infinitesimal chance of a real career.

I draw. I can make pictures and sell 2-5 a year, on a good year, bringing in a salary of up to 100 bucks. Neh. Not working for me. I can clean people’s houses making 10 dollars an hour, but I will collapse after a week. That wont work either. I enjoy arranging gift baskets, but I need to take out a mortgage to buy even the baskets. I wish I could sing. I may not be able to pull off an Avril Lavigne voice or meet her range, but I can hold a tune. I am definitely not even cute to say ‘I am not as cute and talented as Taylor Swift’. I wonder if I could write a song… I don’t even know where to start.

So being far below amateur in the singing department, it will have to be out of the question. I will save it for my indoor voice. Or shower. Though, I am pretty sure I never sang in the shower. I have an agglomeration of poetry and I yearn to compile it into a book, but I don’t know who would read it. I need to find a way to get poetry from others to build up enough to publish.

I am so busy attempting to identify my worthy ability that I am forgetting my current job. The laundry on the couch refuses to budge. I have tried shouting abracadabra but they only stared at me with wonder. I guess that phrase no longer works. The dishes still remain in the sink, climbing to great heights. At least they have succeeded in the ascent nearly as high as Everest. I am endlessly crunching on Cheerios and Matchbox cars that used to have four wheels before I came around. My son has eaten cookies majority of the day because I am too lazy to figure out what a dairy and nut free kid can eat. I think those people just starve.

Two days free, and nonetheless not a job idea in sight. I am too talented and too capable and no one will hire me due to the fear of severe competition. Those teachers were correct. It has been an issue from my youth. “You are so smart and capable. You just have to learn how to apply yourself.” Now here I sit, and all I apply myself with is face cream on a special night that I find a moment to even shower.

I really have to start at the beginning. Wow.

Laundry Grows as The List Shrinks

Originally, when I had started this blog I had thought I would write every day. Why wouldn’t I? I never had an issue with finding ideas to talk about. But then it happened, I got busy. Yesterday, I was struck by a tornado of laundry. You see, I don’t ponder over the concept of never-ending laundry. I know why there are heaps of all different shades and colors even the day after I wash five loads. I have a severe case of the WWW‘s. You must Wash What’s Worn. I can’t help it I just don’t like when things are seen repeatedly.

And so, there are days lost to laundry. I am the creator of my own problems. I have a front loader washing machine, to make it even worse, and it takes a full day to do my laundry. Fill up the machine, pour in the detergent, switch on the power, and wait two hours. Throw it in the dryer, hang what cannot be dried and power it up. The cycle is endless. The laundry is always in separate hampers according to colors so it is easier on the day I decide to do nothing but that. A day reserved for the machine.

As I type, I look down at my shirt and I see about six large, dirty spots. I was about to say that this is the life when you have children. However, being that my children are either in school or sleeping right now who am I to blame. I know I can get away with the lie- we always put the guilt on those who can not defend themselves. Sounds awful in words but it is the truth. Right now I must accuse myself. I was online and eating at the same time. I am glad the runny sunny-side-up did not leak through the letters on the keyboard. Read the rest of this entry