Q: How many Mormon Mommy Bloggers does it take to pump gas?
A: None. He fills up her minivan for her when he takes the boys to scouts.
I don't know what makes me think of this stuff... Except maybe women to use phrases like:
"Yesterday I had some fun with my sisters instead of working on today's post. It was really great and exactly what I needed. We ate a yummy lunch, shopped a little, and then we got wild and crazy and dyed each other's hair :) "
Seriously, I used my birthday spa manicure/pedicure on Monday when The Husband had the day off. I'm walking around with "Aphrodite's Pink Nightie" on my fingers and "Diva of Geneva" on my toes. I feel like such a girl.
I never did get used to hanging out with girls. I was never very popular in middle school, and I was a band jock in high school. Once I discovered boys, I never looked back. It didn't help that I was in the school of science at Purdue in college. I never personally knew any women. When I did have roommates, I never shared clothes or make up with them because all my roommates were short and busty. And makeup? Who wears makeup in college? Oh. My roommates? I lived with women who had beauty routines that they performed with religious regularity. But it never took.
Sometimes I envy girls. *sigh* I'll just have to console myself with the fact that even though my husband doesn't fill my gas tank, build the bookcases, plant the trees, or teach the kids to ride bikes, I DO. I am Mom. I rock.
But not as beautifully as a girl.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Signs.
Is it a bad sign when...
...the main reason I go to church is to get away from the kids for a few hours?
...I dream about chewing off my bite guard three times in one dream?
...if The Husband and I got away for the weekend alone, I'd spend it sleeping?
...my dearest wish is that The Girl masters all her self-care skills independently -- so I can go away for the weekend and sleep?
...I knit for excitement?
...I have my birthday pedicure/manicure tomorrow, with lunch afterward with The Husband, and I'm not excited about going?
Running low on gas, I am. Seriously low. We're all fighting a sinus infection kind of thing, and it's leaving us tired and cranky. And by "us", I mean the adults.
I swear, it's like a competition with this man. All I have to say is, "Ugh, I have a sinus headache," and he has to chime in, "Yeah, I thought I was getting sick, too. I have that tickle in the throat and neck thing going on. I almost left work early." Seriously, this man isn't normally what I'd call overly competitive, but this is ridiculous. Maybe he's caught on to my, "Whoever gets sick first gets to go to bed; the other one has to stay up and take care of the kids" policy.
How long can a kid survive on low-fat potato chips and grapes? Seriously, how hard is it for The Husband to make real food for them? I think he's trying to guilt me into letting him be sick. No. No sick time here. You'd have to go away for the weekend, and you can't do that until The Girl can take her own shower.
My life doesn't always suck, but when it does, it sucks the life out of me.
...the main reason I go to church is to get away from the kids for a few hours?
...I dream about chewing off my bite guard three times in one dream?
...I stay up and watch SNL just because everyone else is asleep and no one will get in my face?
...if The Husband and I got away for the weekend alone, I'd spend it sleeping?
...my dearest wish is that The Girl masters all her self-care skills independently -- so I can go away for the weekend and sleep?
...I knit for excitement?
...I have my birthday pedicure/manicure tomorrow, with lunch afterward with The Husband, and I'm not excited about going?
Running low on gas, I am. Seriously low. We're all fighting a sinus infection kind of thing, and it's leaving us tired and cranky. And by "us", I mean the adults.
I swear, it's like a competition with this man. All I have to say is, "Ugh, I have a sinus headache," and he has to chime in, "Yeah, I thought I was getting sick, too. I have that tickle in the throat and neck thing going on. I almost left work early." Seriously, this man isn't normally what I'd call overly competitive, but this is ridiculous. Maybe he's caught on to my, "Whoever gets sick first gets to go to bed; the other one has to stay up and take care of the kids" policy.
How long can a kid survive on low-fat potato chips and grapes? Seriously, how hard is it for The Husband to make real food for them? I think he's trying to guilt me into letting him be sick. No. No sick time here. You'd have to go away for the weekend, and you can't do that until The Girl can take her own shower.
My life doesn't always suck, but when it does, it sucks the life out of me.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Behold the power...
of chocolate chip pancakes. "Boychild, if you let me sleep all night, I'll make you chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast." It was that easy. I had forgotten the number one motivation for preteen boys -- food. The fastest way to a boy's heart is through his stomach. (Especially if you have a fishing knife. Just kidding.)
So, I'm thinking of making a questionnaire.
You and your husband have a free half hour to yourselves before you have to start dinner. You sneak off to the bedroom, and you:
a. have a wild, crazy quickie before dinner,
b. both crash out for a quick nap, or
c. neither of the above -- the kids would be drinking Drano and swinging from the ceiling fans.
2. When your husband leaves for work in the morning, you:
a. give him a passionate hug and kiss to send him off,
b. roll over, kiss him, and hope you can go back to sleep, or
c. neither of the above -- he's afraid of being splattered with baby food and won't come near.
You get the drift. I love my husband, but I live to sleep. What's that all about?
So, I'm thinking of making a questionnaire.
You and your husband have a free half hour to yourselves before you have to start dinner. You sneak off to the bedroom, and you:
a. have a wild, crazy quickie before dinner,
b. both crash out for a quick nap, or
c. neither of the above -- the kids would be drinking Drano and swinging from the ceiling fans.
2. When your husband leaves for work in the morning, you:
a. give him a passionate hug and kiss to send him off,
b. roll over, kiss him, and hope you can go back to sleep, or
c. neither of the above -- he's afraid of being splattered with baby food and won't come near.
You get the drift. I love my husband, but I live to sleep. What's that all about?
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