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.

Busy Bitches' Cookbook (AKA Lazy Bitches' Cookbook)

[It took me forever to complete this post. I'm only sorry that I was actually busy enough to not be able to finish it in a timely manner ;-).]
I think I might make this a series--Busy Bitches Cookbook. You could also call it Lazy Bitches Cookbook, but I have a reputation to uphold! <<hahaHAAA, kidding. The recipes in this (possible) series are shit I cook when I don't have the time to cook, when I just plain don't feel like standing in a hot damned kitchen all day, or when I am just having yet another lazy day! Today's recipe is going to be Chicken'n'Dumplings.
Be aware that I do not measure. That would totally take away from the simplicity. It's unnecessary. Oh, and it sounds like more work than it is, actually. I make this for lunch occasionally, and the Lord and my Fry Daddy know I do not like to spend time cooking lunch.

Ingredients

Bisquick

 Canned Biscuits and/or Croissants (biscuits turn out better)

Equivalent to Country Crock (or real butter, if you give a shit--I don't)

Chicken Broth 

Salt

Pepper

and

 Frozen Chicken Tenderloins (preferred, but I was out)

or

Frozen Boneless, skinless Chicken Breasts

Add some Garlic Powder to the broth, if you feel like getting crazy with it (not pictured, but I think you can figure it out).

 Put chicken in the pan with some oil as pictured above. Oh yeah, you need olive or vegetable oil.. Crisco even, I don't  care. Turn on medium. Cover with lid. Cook until it is done, flipping once. Let it cook while you work on the dumplings.

Put some chicken broth in a pot.

Add a little salt and pepper to the broth.

Toss in some butter.

Boil that shit. Sit down, have some wine, whatevs. Shit might take a while.

"A watched pot never boils."

I don't know who came up with that, but I have a few things to say about it. One, he/she obviously didn't stand and stare long enough. Dumbass. Two, I would like to thank that person for that excuse to sit my ass down for a minute.

Get the Bisquick or flour..

Put it in a bowl.

Coat your canned biscuits or croissants in the Bisquick.

Pinch pieces off and put them in the boiling broth. If the pieces are too big, no problem. Well, if you don't own any forks or knives and your dumplings somehow come out really hard, then it might be a problem. When all pieces/dumplings are dropped in, immediately turn down to low heat and simmer/

Let them simmer for about 10 minutes.

Add chicken to the pot.

Cover with lid and let simmer for another 10 minutes, and you are done-zo.

Next, I'll be covering the Busy Bitches' recipe for homemade chicken fingers OR the Lazy Bitches' guide to good pizza. We'll see what kind of week it is, first!

Coming up!

As soon as I can get organized and shiz, I will possibly start a new series of posts (randomly mixed in with regular posts). I say possibly because I'm ADhD as hell and rarely follow through with anything. I'm lucky I still remember to post on this every now and then. Anyway, you might be able to look forward to Busy Bitches Cookbook (AKA Lazy Bitches Cookbook), but dont hold your breath. I only have one post slightly prepared and no idea what to add to it outside of one or 2 non-original recipes. Everything else is frozen. I really should have thought this through more. F it, it will be a short series.

Ahhhh!!! Why is she a vampire?!?!!1!1!!eleventy!

I have a 4 year old daughter, my little Sugar-booger, and a 3 year old son, my little Samarai (he's a Power Rangers fan, big time). They are visiting their grandparents while hubby and I turn this:



into this:






They stayed with my parents for a bit, then went to my in-laws' for a bit. After the swap today, my mom called to tell me about one of their most embarrassing moments ever, courtesy of my daughter. I'm going to try to remember this the best I can, I was laughing hysterically while listening...

My parents took the kiddos to McDonald's to play while they waited on my husband's parents. My little missy Sugar-Boog found another little girl to play with her. They stood, talking, as my mom watched. As she's watching, the girls start messing with their mouths. The other little girl opens her mouth to reveal the fact that she is missing her four front teeth (yeah, I don't know how she lost all four either /shrug). My child, bless her heart, takes off running and screaming, "She's a vampire!!! ahh! Why is she a vampire??!!". Over. And. Over.
Shit.

My parents try to calm her down, but she sat at the table with her head down crying, demanding to know why the girl was a vampire. The Samarai is yelling, "I'll protect you! I'm gonna throw somethin' at that vampire if she comes over here again!" Awesome. The little girl comes over to see what's wrong, trying to talk and play, only inducing more wailing. My parents are all, "Nooo! Look, she's a sweet girl. She's so sweet and pretty, see?" She didn't see. Now, if I could find the parents and little girl, I'd apologize profusely for that one time when Sugar-Boog woke up and snuck in the living room while we were watching True Blood. I feel terrible for the little girl, but I feel bad for my baby also. Can you imagine being 4 years old and thinking you are in the same play area as a vampire-child? shudder

Anyway, it gets better..well, not really, just funnier. My mom and dad try to explain that the little girl lost her teeth. They tell her that everyone loses teeth and, one day, Sugar will lose hers too. Sounds like a reasonable explanation, right? What else could they say? That's not what my child heard. Anyone want to guess what she heard? Anyone? Bueller?

"One day, you are going to be a vampire too!"

/facepalm
Her reaction to that led to them feeling the need to LEAVE, immediately.

I almost wish I could have been there for that!

10 Reasons I Love My Interwebz Friends

I was inspired to write this about 2 weeks ago, but wanted to wait until I was totally sure that no one was watching me from outside one of my windows. I think the coast is clear, so here goes..oh, and a little help from someecards.

10 Reasons I Love My Interwebz Friends

1.) Interwebz friends aren't clingy. They can't be! You just use the "go offline" option on whatever messenger, message board, or whatever they are using to contact you.

2.) They don't force get togethers on you by making it awkward to say no. They usually live too far away.

3.) They don't declare that you are their BFF the day you meet them & immediately start calling and texting non-stop.

4.) When you find out interwebz friends are crazy, you don't have to figure out how to cut them out of your life without worrying about running into them when out. X marks the spot, click it.

5.) They don't con you into buying them things. You can pretend you didn't see that email.

6.) They don't ask you to buy them things using your CREDIT CARD.

7.) They don't ask you for your medications. That would be insane. Refer back to number 4.

8.) Interwebz friends don't call YOU after getting caught up in a sticky situation, asking for help and requesting you keep your mouth shut about it, even to your own husband. (Previously, too much info was posted)

9.) They don't just drop by your house if you don't answer your phone.

10.) If an interwebz friend DOES, in fact, do any of these things...again, you can use that little X or just completely turn off your monitor. The end!

Favorite bluntcards.com

After reading a friend's latest post at Views From The Couch (she is hilarious, by the way), I remembered the awesome site, Blunt Cards. So, tonight, I'm just going to post a few of my favorite.

Whatever you do, look good doing it.

After realizing that I wasn't doing my part, or even a portion of my part around the house, I still tend to have some lazy days. He isn't my boss and there is nothing he can do if I just sit on my ass all day, but it does ease the tension between me and my husband. We, obviously, tend to be a lot happier when we are balanced, rather than one more stressed than the other. Again, I do still have quite a few lazy days and, well, I still want to avoid the tension. Luckily, I managed to learn a few tricks for avoiding any smart-assy what the hell did you do all day? looks. God, I hope hubby never reads this!

One, make sure you're doing SOMETHING when the spouse comes in. The thought that I've done nothing all day..it can't even cross hubby's mind when the first thing he sees is me doing some sort of housework. He might walk in to find me folding something up, wiping something off, or unloading the dishwasher. I occasionally even pick up that piece of trash (or three) that I've been staring at all day, trying to will it into the garbage can...because I didn't feel like bending over to pick it up.

Two, look worn out. This isn't hard, even sitting wears me out. I'm serious.

Finally, the most important of all: Whatever you do, look good doing it. I don't want to look like I only rolled off the couch when necessary. I throw on some clothes, maybe even a dress & heels, and do something with my hair. If I feel like it, I even put on a little make up. Tie on a hawt apron, load the dishwasher, and DONE! I make sure the hubs comes in to find me slightly bent over loading the dishwasher, putting my famous homemade apple pie into the oven (if you make it at home, it's homemade..just sayin'), or anything else that provides a decent viewing angle. It may seem extremely superficial, but I'm okay with that. Whatever works!

(Pictures later, maybe)

Panic mode: ON!

My parents are coming. Well, they might be. It will late tonight, but I'll never get the house totally clean in time. "Totally clean" excludes my room & bathroom. They are currently lost causes. I suck at life.

More later, clean now!

Officially PATHETIC

Yesterday, I started climbing Mt. Laundry. I did blankets, sheets, and towels. While I'm on the subject, I'd like to announce that I, in all of my terrible housewife glory, can fold a fitted frickin' sheet like some kind of house keeping goddess. Anyway, yeah, big day full of laundry. I also scheduled a playdate (for the kids and adults). Usually, this requires the hubby. I get too nervous to talk to new people! That makes finding friends in a new state..pretty tough. Luckily, I have a lot in common with a wife of one of hubby's coworkers & have no nervousness issues with her. Before my afternoon was over, I went on a hunt for the back to one of our 538 remote controls. I found it. This made me happy. This made my husband even happier. No shit, he came home, noticed what I had done, and said he was PROUD OF ME! He was proud of me for laundering some easy to fold shit, scheduling our get together/playdate by myself, and finding the back to a remote. I am officially PATHETIC.

Brokeback Housewife

In May 2009, my husband deployed..so, I moved in with my parents. Say what you want about that, but I took myself and my kids to a place where we would have love and support. I'm not a hardass, trying to prove a point by stressing myself out physically and emotionally. That's just not me. Anyway, I wasn't cleaning my house at that time. Shortly afterward, complications from an earlier car wreck (10 years earlier) crept up on me and left me nearly bedridden. September 2010, I had the rods that were put in right after my wreck removed. For so long, I was incapable and I forgot that cleaning and cooking was necessary once I was capable again.
My house went to shit.

After my stressed out husband got to his breaking point from coming home from work, taking care of the yard,  taking care of the house, and cooking dinner, plus changing a pull-up or two, we had a heart to heart. Okay, it was more like WWIII up in this place! After the smoke cleared, I realized that he was right. Oww... that was painful to type. Still, it's true. I'd had enough time to heal that a load of dishes and running a vacuum wouldn't hurt me. It has taken quite some time, a lot of effort, and has been a real struggle, but I've been working to get back in the swing of things for a few months now. To think, this was hard for me BEFORE the previous-surgery issues came up and then, this last surgery. Oy!

My Apron is Broken!

I've seen the old television shows.. the ones where the mom/wife has the house pristine, kids are well behaved, all meals are homemade, and dinner is on the table at 5 PM sharp. All of the women from that time seem to have one other thing in common, as well: Aprons (and probably a happy pill of some sort, but that hasn't been confirmed).

I bought my first apron about 2-3 years ago. I had decided to quit popping kids out back to back (or ever again) and start trying to do more around the house. I was going to load the dishwasher, wash some laundry..maybe even dry it, and pick some shit up. I was even going to figure out how to work that boxy thing that gets all hot and cooks the stuff that can't be microwaved. Obviously, from watching those old shows, I needed to buy an apron. She was beautiful. I couldn't wait to turn into the domesticated type that we, women married to military men, are supposed to be. I woke up bright and early.. okay, not BRIGHT, but it was early. Too. Damned. Early. I tied on my apron, closed my eyes, clicked my heels, and then, it happened: nothing. NOTHING!!! My apron was broken! There was no breakfast on the table, no clean house.. there was still shit everywhere! It still looked like Toys R Us exploded in my living room! I know, expecting it to just happen was a leetle unrealistic, but I didn't even get a surge of energy to do it myself or anything!! /sigh. I was disappointed, to say the least.
Lesson learned: Aprons aren't magic.

After a lot of crying and angrily screaming, I gathered myself together to see how I could still be somewhat productive. I'd go from each room I was cleaning and into the laundry room about 15 times each, just to get another (unopened) cleaner or a clean cloth. After about 253 hours of non-stop cleaning, I started to care a bit less about leaving cleaners within the reach of my small children...my legs were frickin tired! Trying to figure out how I could remedy the issue, I started shoving cloths in my pockets and carried the cleaners around with me. Finally, it hit me. That stupid, broken apron has LARGE POCKETS! It does work! I could shove all that stuff in them and have very little left to carry.
Lesson learned: Aprons are functional.

At least the kids are alive...

I wasn't cut out to be a housewife. I'm ADHD as hell, cannot organize or schedule to save my life, and the motivation..well, it JUST. ISN'T. THERE. However, when I decided, unconsciously, to have 2 children back to back, I chose to try my damnedest to be a stay at home mom and housewife. My kids will only be little for a short amount of time (though some days, it feels like they have been little tornadoes for.ev.er), so I want to spend what time I can with them. Unfortunately, my large dose of prescribed ADhD medication each day hasn't been enough to help tame my hyper-focusing on mindless bullshit. I'm trying to do my best, but it has been a struggle. At least the kids are alive.. right?