My kid ain't no dang dog!!

When it comes to parenting, there are quite a few hot button issues. One of those issues is...are you ready for this?? HARNESSES. I have read a million and one of these debates and always end up mentally giving 75% of participants the Are You Really That Stupid?? look. Still, I have learned a LOT from these debates and I'm here to share it with you, bulletin style. Your welcome.

• Harnessing or leashing your child is treating your child like a dog. You know.. with care, love, and respect. It's disgusting. People leash their dogs to give them freedom to walk while also keeping them safe and in a controlled environment. Children don't need any of that. Strap them down to a chair with wheels, it's clearly more humane.
• Parents that harness are terrible, sick people. They have no regard for image and only concern themselves with petty things, like safety. Wussies. If they had a single shred of self-respect for their child, they would remove the harness and allow the child to look like a decent human being. Seriously, there are more things to worry about than cars and kidnappers.
• Not only are these people not concerned at all with image, they also have no concern for discipline. If your child doesn't walk beside you like a perfect angel or if he/she likes to slip his/her slippery, sweaty hand out of yours, you aren't doing your job. You can TEACH them to stay beside you or to hold your hand at all times a few different ways: 

1. LEAVE. It doesn't matter how much you paid for those Disney World tickets or how much it will suck to walk all the way back to the car when you were only a minute from where you were going, when they disobey and pull away or walk away--you LEAVE. The whole family should suffer until your little devil learns his lesson.
2. BEAT SOME ASS. 'Nuff said. 
3. Natural consequences. This works for SO much and I use it for almost everything. Have I ever told you all about the time The Samurai electrocuted himself? He doesn't play with the outlets anymore!! (Put the phone down, it was really just an accident.. don't call CPS!) You know what else natural consequences works for? Running into the road. Kid runs into the road, kid gets hit, kid won't run into the road again. I promise. Works for kidnapping, too. Ever heard of a kid being kidnapped twice? I haven't. 

•  Most other safety devices are approved by most parents. This can be confusing. Cribs look like baby cages with the bars and all that, but they are fine. Same with playpens. Obviously, treating your child like a pet is fine..just not a pet dog. Strollers? Again, restraining your kid like a criminal or mentally unstable patient by strapping him to a chair with wheels is totally cool. Baby gates are fine, too. Pretty much anything and everything that allows your child to safely explore his or her surroundings is AWESOME, except leashes/harnesses.

Moral of the story: I do not care if your harness looks like this..

unless you want to be one of those disgusting, safety-only concerned sissies, Do. NOT. Harness. Your. Child.

Not now, Mommy is hungover..

I never actually said it, but I felt like saying it. I don't know what happened to me when I popped the kids out, but something definitely happened to my tolerance. Mama can't hang!

Saturday night, we went to a little girl's birthday party across the street. It was a byob, so..we did. If you are wondering why there was alcohol at a child's party, well..you have obviously not been to enough children's parties. I drank my beer and had a great time laughing and cutting up. Everything was going great! I wasn't even feeling all that buzzed and was proud of myself for holding my alcohol so well.






For some reason, after the children were sound asleep, the neighbor and I decided to start taking shots of vodka. My husband was there and sober enough to care for children should they need to be taken care of (he just likes to get me drunk & take advantage of me later)..no worries. Three shots later, I'm on the swing passing out! I'm practically drooling on myself as the neighbor and my husband just sit and chat it up! I remember hearing them, but not being able to respond. Amazingly, 45 minutes later, I wake up perfectly fine..like nothing ever happened! I was still buzzed, but fine.






I partied the rest of the night away and then...I. Woke. Up. Holy headache. The nausea, the spinning, the jittery feeling I just can't shake...it was all too much when 8 am crept around and little feet started pitter pattering through the kitchen and into my room. Shoot me. This is no good. What was I thinking?? Vodka?!? Why can't the kids feed themselves? Why is the room spinning? Why are they so whiney today? Please stop fighting! Please let go of me for just a second, I'm already spinning. Stop touching your sister! Oh, come on! I just fed you! You need a drink, TOO?!? Pleeaasseee! Oh my GOD, what have I done?? I am only 25! Not 45! What HAPPENED to me? Get out of the bathroom before I puke on you!!

To top off my morning, my neighbor sends me a text to ask how I'm feeling. I respond, letting her know that I feel like SHIT. She tells me that SHE has already been up, out of the house, and even exercised. I can't repeat my response. It was (half-jokingly) ugly.

Turning scented candles into wax tarts/wax melts...

My blog really has no single specific focus anymore, so just thought I'd share what I've been doing lately: Turning my old, broken candles..or just candles that smell good and would smell better in a wax warmer..into wax tarts. Sorry, I have nothing funny or witty to share tonight. Maybe tomorrow will be a more humorous day.. we'll see.

 

Things you need: Candle with wick removed, clean soup can, mini muffin pan, pot with about 1.5-2inches of water--boiling. 

Place candle inside of cleaned can. Also, after placing inside, pinch the sides of the can lip to make a spout.

 

 Place can in the boiling water. DO NOT LEAVE UNATTENDED. Depending on the amount of water in the can, it may move around in the pot.

Once wax is melted, pour into the mini muffin pan. How much you fill it up should depend on how much you wax warmer will hold.

If you are impatient like I am and want your wax to easily come out of the pan, place the pan in the freezer. Allow wax to completely harden in freezer.

Once the wax is completely hardened, turn muffin pan over onto flat surface.

I couldnt get a good picture of this step, but to easily remove the wax, strike the back of each mold with.. something. I used a pair of pliers I had nearby.

This is what you should get..perfect little wax tarts!

 Label a ziplock baggy to store them in. These are the Orange Clove tarts I just finished and some Blueberry Cobbler tarts that I made yesterday. One of my favorite Blueberry Cobbler candles had broken, and that is what inspired me to make these!

Place your wax tart in warmer and ENJOY! 

Your welcome. 

I originally found these directions here:

http://www.allfreecrafts.com/candles/melts.shtml 

I just used scented candles, obviously.

Big boys don't pee in their pants.

I picked Sugar up from school yesterday and, on the drive home, we have this conversation:

 Sugar: (read in a valley girl voice) "Ew. Ew. Ew. Boyfriends are gross. I don't ever want a boyfriend. Disgusting. Ew."

Me: Why do you say that? What happened today?

Sugar: (valley girl voice again, I have no idea where she got that from) "A little boy wants to be my boyfriend. Boyfriends are disgusting. They are sooo gross." (I later find out that he asked to be her boyfriend forever)

Me: "What did he look like?" (hoping to be able to pick him out of her classmates so I know which little asshole is trying to pick up my baby)

Sugar: "I already told you. He looks like a little boy. I don't like little boys. I like big boys. Big boys don't pee in their pants."

Well, can't argue with that!

Exercise is killing me.

Exercise makes me sore. Why would I want to do anything that makes me sore? I like for my muscles to feel nice and relaxed. I'm a good host. It's just who I am.

Exercise makes my heart race. When I go to the doctor, he is usually a little concerned when he checks my pulse and finds that my heart is racing. It must not be a good thing.

Exercise makes it hard for me to breathe. Do I need to explain why that is bad? You can't breathe, you DIE.

Exercise isn't great for my back. I can't do much bending, no twisting, and no lifting heavy shit. My only option I can come up with is some non-twisting dancing. I have no rhythm and have videos to prove it...or just ask Queen of the Couch. It's not good.

Exercise doesn't give me energy like people claim it will. It sucks my energy levels dry. I need my energy. How else will I care for my kids.

Exercise makes me feel like I'm dying. That can't be good.

I'll come up with more convincing excuses later. Until then, I guess I'll have to get back to doing Zumba.

New Favorite Apron!!

My newest, favorite apron!!

My Favorite Kitchen Utensil: (picture of corkscrew)

Busy Bitches Cookbook aka Lazy Bitches Cookbook: A Banana Heart Attack

This is for neither the busy, nor the lazy. But, whatevs. It would just be filed under "Shit That Doesn't Belong In This Recipe Book"...if it were a book.
Not sure if it's a pie or a pudding, but it's definitely a heart attack waiting to happen. It's so worth it. I whipped this up when I wanted banana pudding, but couldn't find my vanilla flavoring or condensed milk. I just had to wing it. Oh. My. Gawd. Turned out phenom.

Ingredients:

• 1 5oz package of vanilla pudding
• 1 8oz package of cream cheese (softened)
• 1 cup of milk
• 1 cup of vanilla ice cream (slightly softened)
• 1/2 cup of heavy cream (see what I mean about the heart attack, now?)
• 2 Bananas
• Nilla Wafers
• Nilla wafer pie crust (optional, can just use wafers to make it more pudding-like)
• Thawed Cool-whip

Combine first ingredients, beat until well blended

Line bottom of pie crust with banana slices OR line bottom of dish with crushed or whole Nilla wafers, then top wafers with banana slices.

Pour half of the "stuff" you just mixed up on top.

Spread it out, duh.

Top with more Nilla wafers and banana slices

Pour remainder of the pudding on top and spread out. You can top with Nilla wafers and banana slices again if you'd like. I didn't have any room!

Cover with Cool-Whip

Top with crushed Nilla wafers (I like those bitches)

It's going to be really thick if you use a pie crust, so you will have to rig up the lid with aluminum foil..

Set the lid on top, wrap bottom and sides with aluminum foil to cover the sides of the lid and pie. Refrigerate until ready to eat.. or grab a frickin spoon and dig on in.

EFF'ing De-licious.

Try it and let me know how you like it.. if you survive the heart attack.

School Lunch...

is F'ing nas-tay. Unhealthy school lunch options is an issue that has gained more media attention in recent years. So much that I was shocked to see my daughter's school lunch menu. I thought the media attention would have encouraged schools to shape up. I was so wrong.

Here's the thing, my kids would LOVE to have pizza every single day for lunch..delicious, greasy pizza. If I actually fed my kids pizza every single day and admitted to it, I imagine I'd get more than a few "I'm judging you" looks. When the school feeds our kids pizza, or gives them the option of eating it everyday, too many parents think nothing of it. If the kids don't want pizza, they can have chicken nuggets, a corndog, or another fried, greasy food..with fries.

Don't get me wrong, I do not feed my kids the healthiest shit everyday. About 9 times out of 10, it comes out of a can or box. But my kids do get, at least, one healthy meal a day. Fortunately, my kids actually get more than one meal a day. There has also been more media focus on the fact that school lunch is the only meal that too many kids get all day. Shouldn't we make that one meal a little less artery-clogging? It would also help me out in that, my kids one healthy meal a day--wouldn't have to be cooked by yours truly. I could feel less guilty when I crack open that can of raviolis!

Also, I hate to say this, but I'm sitting in the Parent Pick-up line (as usual) and I can count at least 15 kids on the playground right now that do not appear to need anymore greasy foods. I see 8-9 year olds that look like they are on their way to a heart attack. I hope what I see on the playground is not a preview of what our future generations will be like. We better shape up FAST, or it will be!

Speaking of heart attacks and unhealthy food, I still believe in the right to a deliciously unhealthy desert once in a (frequent) while. Later tonight, I will be posting my very own recipe (meaning-I made it up, unless someone else had the same idea and I don't know about it) for the desert I have named...
Banana Pudding/Pie Heart Attack!
You can be looking forward to that!

Undomesticated Housewife

P.S.
I do pack my daughter's lunch 4 out of the 5 school days each week. She is awesome and loves salad, blueberries, carrot sticks, or grape tomatoes for lunch. I'm not so lucky with the Samurai. I'd probably have to fry his salad if I wanted him to eat one. Packing his lunch will be fun next year.

Another random thought: Sometimes, a little sexism is okay with me!

This is regarding me, and me alone. Whatever you want to do with your life, I support your right to do it regardless of whether it's a stereotypical man-thing, or stereotypical woman-thing.

Just now, while on my way to pick up my daughter from school, I drove past some road construction workers. I thought, "What a miserable job! It is too damned hot for all that!" Then, there were the guys working on the power lines. Again, miserable job. I understand that, while men hold the majority of these jobs, women do these jobs as well! What I don't understand is..why? Why would ANYONE want to work in a profession that requires subjecting oneself to extreme weather?? I know people don't always us choose it, it's necessary. I'm referring specifically to those that are wanting to ensure that they have the right to burst into flames while working on a power line. Right now, I'm sitting in the pick-up line, air conditioner on, trying to type this before I melt. People want to work hard, doing manual labor in this stuff?

You know what other stereotypical man things I don't like doing? Taking out the trash. Killing bugs (I've blogged about these twice now, I really hate them!). I even try to push the "but driving is the MAN's job" on to my husband sometimes. That never works..instead, the non-driver is the one that makes it to the liquor cabinet first. This is why women should always go first in things, too..like ordering at restaurants first. "I'll have a margarita on the rocks..double. Oh, by the way, husband, you are driving home tonight, right?"

Anyway, back on track..plumbing--another male dominated field. I'd like to meet the woman that complains about losing out on that job to a man. I'd shake her and ask, "Woman! What is wrong with you?! Have you ever smelled SHIT?!" I can use a plunger when my children have had too much milk or tossed a toy in the toilet, but that's MY toilet. Others' toilets? Um, gross.





I dream of a day where washing dishes is "a MAN's job!"

Another thing..I like being prettied up and dressing like a typical female. I'm not trying to be a man. Facial hair is going to be enough of a bitch when I get older, I'm sure--considering my black hair and all.

I guess what I'm saying is..I don't fight for the right to stab my eyes out of my head or slam my fingers in the car door repeatedly. I don't get how it even crosses one's mind to fight for certain rights. The day I start fighting for my right to use a urinal..is the day you can punch me in the face and call me a douchebag. Sometimes, a little sexism is okay with me!

I don't kiss his ass..

I'm writing this really late. Forgive typos, run-ons, or shit that just doesn't make sense. I'll clean it up tomorrow!

Today, I have decided to address some things regarding military wives. I don't say too much about being a military wife..because I am my own person. I know, I know--my name refers to me being a housewife, so why not military wife? Because, overall, I mostly write about being a housewife. And that brings me to the first thing Id like to address!

**These may be true for many, but I doubt it's true for most. I'm speaking for those of us that are quietly loving military men.**

• Military wives sit at home on their asses all day.

Well, I do..sometimes. Most times these days, I am up and doing something from 6am until 11pm. Yeah, so..um.. you can F off if you think I sit on my ass all day, everyday. I could get a job if I wanted to, but being home with my children as long as possible is more important to me. Besides, I intend on starting school again in January. Plenty of non-mil wives stay at home with their children too. It isn't exclusive to a specific group of women. Also, many women stay home because they move a lot. It is hard to move up very high on the totem pole when you move every few years.

• We are all fat, lazy slobs.

Speak for yourself. I am within my healthy weight range, I have big and fake boobs, and I only go to Wal-Mart in sweat pants every other time I go. Yeah, suck on that. I haven't even seen many fat wives around here. I'm sure there are plenty, but--at this base at least--there aren't anymore than there are in other groups.

• We also dress up to go to the commissary and judge those who don't. We are representing our husbands out there!!

Wait.. what?!? I thought we were fat, lazy slobs? Now, I admit that I have seen plenty of these types out and about. They are typically rank wearers & I'll get to those later..

• We are popping out kids left and right.

I don't know about the majority of the military couples, but we have 2 kids. I thought that was pretty much the norm? We did consider the benefits of Tricare when it came to our decision about more children. Tricare doesn't just cover birth, it also covers VASECTOMIES..and female birth control. I am done, done. We have insurance.. I do NOT have a death wish. Even if another pregnancy wouldn't kill me, I'd still be done. The cost of birth is not the only factor in the decision to have a child. All of the couples I know have a normal amount of children.

• I want a trophy for being a military wife. After all, it is the toughest job EV-AR.

I mean, if you really want to give me one..but, I'd prefer a crown. You could actually just give me the cash. Really though, no, we do not all expect people to kiss our asses for being military wives. It is not the toughest job in the world. It isn't a job. Sure, I support my husband in his work. Isn't that what spouses do? Support each other? Do you get sad when your spouse is gone? I do! It isn't because he is military, it is because he is my husband. He is also put in dangerous situations. However, I am not in a dangerous situation, not that kind anyway. He is the one who has it HARD. I have it.. sad. Also, not all of us get irritable when people complain about missing their spouses because they are working a little late. It isn't a competition. I spent the majority of the first 2 years of my marriage away from my husband, and I still get sad when he comes home from work too late. Other people's problems do not become petty to me.

• Military wives kiss their husbands' asses, because they have the second hardest job in the whole wide world!!

My husband is awesome. He goes to work everyday and bitches about it only at a reasonable level. He provides for his family because he loves us. Still, he has responsibilities at home, too. Being a member of the USAF doesn't mean you are excluded from lifting a finger at home. I don't kiss his ass... I'm not that freaky. Hubby washes his own uniform, he cooks sometimes, he even cleans up after himself on rare occasions. Bug needs killed? Hubby kills it. Trash day? Hubby takes it out. Nine times out of 10, I'm the one needing a massage. And I get that massage.

• Our husbands' ranks are how we define ourselves and others.

What?! No! I do not wear my husband's rank. I didn't earn it and, to the bitches who think you are special because your husband is a what-the-f-ever he is, you didn't do anything to earn that rank either. Blowing him doesn't count.

• We all screw our husbands' best friends during long deployments. All the good wives do. The friends are just being GOOD friends & helping us out, like our husbands asked.

Nah, not all of us. But, uh, thanks for that, Hollywood...and whores!

Some afterthoughts:

No, it isn't hard to be married to a military man. It's hard to be married to me. Really though, it's marriage. It all takes work.

Sure, the lack of..ahem.."intimacy" during deployments, TDYs, and whatnot is a bummer, but it doesn't ruin a marriage. I didn't need to "get down to bidness" to fall in love & don't need to in order to stay in love. The women who cheat on their deployed husbands and husbands who cheat on their deployed wives (or spouses that cheat while they are the ones deployed) are shitty people. They are the same people who would be sluttin' it up outside the marriage with the pool boy or "working late" if they had/had spouses with civilian jobs. Deployments do not drive people to cheat. Whorie'ness does.


I'm not downplaying the role of the military spouse. We go through a lot of heartache and pain..and we sacrifice a lot. However, I guarantee that 99% of us make those sacrifices for love, not a trophy. Not all of us feel some sense of entitlement for dealing with long separations.

I do appreciate the gratitude others express, but no one has to thank me for loving my husband.

Why bother?!

I cleaned the living room spotless. I cleaned the kitchen..spotless. Now, I just stand around with that "the f*#k?!?!" look on my face. I actually cleaned the kitchen yesterday. Like, yesterday evening. Sometimes, I think I must be stupid. I can't think of anything else I would fix over and over and over again, knowing it will be destroyed moments later.

My children have this strange quirk..they have to destroy everything in sight. A clean house just means they get to start all over again. My hubby has a bad habit of setting shit down wherever he is standing. I need freaking order!! Organization! I need things to have a place. Why do I even bother? I'd, obviously, be a much better housewife if I didn't have to clean up after everyone.

(found on Views from the Couch)

You know, I love Angry Birds. I mean, who doesn't? Someone should really make a game for me: Angry Housewives. You would throw things like vacuums and brooms at little cartoon men and children. Each time you peg one, your house gets cleaner. I'd play the shit out of that. I'd play the game rather than actually cleaning the house. Win-win for me! I hope it goes without saying that I'd never throw brooms or vacuums..well, I'd never actually throw vacuums at my children or husband. I'd never throw birds at pigs either.

Okay, enough random thoughts. I think my anger has subsided enough that the stupid has set back in & I'm considering cleaning again.

I can't blog about it.

My Sugar Boog started school yesterday. If I try to blog about it, it wont be humorous and will only make me bawl my eyes out. I can, however, tell you the funniest part of the day.

While walking down the hall, taking Sugar to her room, I made her hold my hand and The Samurai hold her hand. I was already late because I decided to wash her carseat cover and, well, forgot to put it back on. So, I'm practically dragging the kids along in a panicky, upset frenzy. A group of 1st or 2nd graders walk by and start laughing. I think nothing of it. They are children, they laugh and cut up. Then, coming from behind me, I hear it. The Samurai yells, "Aw!!! My pants fell down!" Not quite processing what he said, I keep walking and just glance behind me at the caboose of the train I have going on.. I find my son walking like a penguin, with his shorts around his ankles. I had forgotten to make use of his adjustable waist band. /facepalm

I will also say that Sugar Boog had a wonderful day. She loved it. Dropping her off sucked, but it was harder on me than her.

Though lacking the fine details, I suppose I did blog about her first day... great for her, sucked for me, but had a good laugh in all of it.