Tag Archives: marriage

Wanna Guess Who Is Coming To Visit?

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I don’t know what Husband’s deal is, but for the last week, he has been really pissing me off. He is doing it on purpose, too. He isn’t even trying to be subtle about his consistent attempts to irritate and upset me. The minute I wake up in the morning, he starts and every time he walks into the room, he starts again. I’ve told him in no uncertain terms to cut the shit out. He gives me this blank, deer-in-the-headlights, stare and acts all innocent, like he has no idea what I’m talking about. Okay, because I’m fucking stupid or crazy or something? He knows what he is doing. I know he knows what he is doing. Then he says, “you’re crazy”, totally projecting on to me because, obviously, HE is the crazy one since he takes such pleasure in driving me to the brink of insanity. It’s downright mean. Want a few examples of what an asshole he has been this past week? My pleasure!

- He comes and sits beside me on the couch the other day, so we can watch a movie. If he was breathing any louder, drywall would have been snowing from the ceiling and the police would have been at our door to issue a noise violation. He insisted he was breathing like he always did, but I’m pretty sure I would have noticed something like that in the last 13 years. He was breathing in AND out, every few seconds. I mean, COME ON!!

- He came home from work the other day and, when he walked in the door, he smiled and said, “hey, babe”. Can you believe him? I just said, “fuck you”, then he stands there acting all innocent and confused.

- I bought a few candy bars and put the bag on top of the fridge. He ate one. The motherfucker ate one. Obviously, he thinks I’m fat. JUST SAY IT TO MY FACE!

- The other night, he and my best friend admitted to me that they were sleeping together, had been for a while. and that he was leaving me to be with her. I cried and demanded to know how they could do that to me and they just laughed at me. Want to know what he says every time I try to talk to him about it? “OH MY GAWD, It was A DREAM!” Oh, okay. So, just because I dreamed it, that makes it okay?

- He brought me a Coke instead of a Dr. Pepper. Why does he hate me, right?!?!?

- He is constantly trying to convince me that sperm is a mood stabilizer and headache cure. I’ll try it if he does.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg. When I get upset, he plays the innocent bystander and acts like I’m overreacting. In a week, he’ll start acting normal again. He’ll just sit on the couch and breath like a normal fucking person. He won’t say things like, “is there any more pot roast left”, in that tone that makes it very clear that what he means is, “you’re so fat, you disgust me”. Then, in about a month, he’ll start at it again I could almost set a clock by it. Did I mention that he always pulls this shit right before I start my period? Like he makes it a point to make the 4-5 days leading up to shark week a living hell. I can’t figure out why he continues after all this time. This game seems to make him as miserable as it makes me.

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No Marriage For You!

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I know that when two people fall in love, it is so easy to get caught up and carried away. When you feel that connection, that love and that intimate bond that you’ve never felt before with any other person, you just know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you’ve found the one. You get engaged and, sure, your family and friends are all really happy and you’re looking forward to committing your lives to one another in front of all of them and blah, blah, blah, but none of that can compare to how it feels to break the exciting news of your nuptials to the government!  When I reflect on my marriage and what it means to me, it’s the tax benefits and inheritance rights that make me feel nostalgic and gushy. I’m just a hopeless romantic, I guess. I really value the sanctity of marriage and I know that if we, as a society, have any hope of preserving that, we are gonna need some more fucking laws. I can’t believe that people would think the government should just be issuing sanctification certificates (aka marriage licenses) to any pair of adults that holds out their hand. I’m tired of hearing all the whining about “equal rights”. This has nothing to do with rights! Marriage is between a man and a woman and GOD, end of story! Well, I mean, pending government approval, and proper government licensing and filing, and, also, correctly recorded on all of my income tax documents and filings, and some other shit, but other than that, MARRIAGE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS!

You want more reasons? FINE! I’ll give you reasons:

The Bible says it is an abomination.

We have to defend traditional marriage.

It’s unnatural.

The majority of Americans don’t support it.

It’s a slippery slope. If we allow this, brothers and sisters are going to want to get married next.

Good enough? You can save all the arguments. It’s just gross to even think about. I don’t care what they said in the Loving v Virginia case; you will never be able to convince me that interracial marriage is acceptable! Wait, what? Oh, you were talking about gay marriage? Oh, my bad. Okay, HA, I got confused on the part where you were saying something about civil rights and then I saw that cute, little puppy go by and wasn’t paying attention for a second and that was when–anyways, that’s hilarious. You’re talking about gay marriage and I’m talking about interracial marriage…LOLerskates. Anyways, so you were saying about gay marriage? Oh—-well, NO! They don’t need to get married!  God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve! Of course, I have reasons!

The Bible says it is an abomination.

We have to defend traditional marriage.

It’s unnatural.

The majority of Americans don’t support it.

It’s a slippery slope. If we allow this, brothers and sisters are going to want to get married next.

The government needs to make laws, NAY, a constitutional amendment, as protection from any union that threatens to defile the institution of traditional marriage.

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Presumably, if I asked most people that now espouse these same reasons to oppose gay marriage, if they think it would be okay to ban interracial marriage again, they would say no. I’m sure it would be answered as if it were a ridiculous  question, then they’d tell me that this is apples and oranges but it isn’t. It is the same thing. When even the arguments against it are the  same, the best you could argue is that I’m comparing Galas to McIntosh. One of the main arguments made to oppose both scenarios regards the claim that marriage was established for the benefit of procreation. It is frequently invoked that, since same-sex couples can’t produce a biological child, it negates claims of any right to marriage. Should we apply this logic to heterosexual couples as well and make issuance of the marriage license contingent on medical documentation proving fertility? Persons found to be infertile or women beyond menopause are ineligible for consideration. Sorry.

Most opponents of gay marriage get up in arms about “redefining marriage” and espousing its merits, and importance of the government’s responsibility to uphold the principles of “traditional marriage”. Some are willing to compromise and  are willing to allow gay couples to have “civil unions” but just refuse to share the word “marriage”. I think this is fair and reasonable because “separate but equal” has never let us down. Oxymoron, shmoxymoron! AMIRITE? So, like I was saying, one major hang up people have is the designation of “marriage” to be used in reference to an abominable union. This position is typically predicated on an implied trademark of divinity, contained in the part(s) of the Bible that provide the framework for traditional marriage.

I know this will surprise many of you but, believe it or not, I want to help, which is good because you need my help. You’re going about this all wrong, you see. I am, honestly, moved by your passion, respect and desire for traditional marriage. On the basis of religious freedom, if you feel that the word “marriage” should be reserved for those that subscribe to and emulate traditional marriage, as ordained in the Bible, your fight is justified. If you want to silence dissent, if you want to dominate the debate, if you believe the biblical tradition of marriage to be a protected institution and want irrefutable proprietorship of the term “marriage”, to be used only to refer to a relationship that meets the strict criteria outlined in the Bible, we have some work to do. I don’t know if you know this but we have gone so far away from the gold standard of traditional marriage, it is practically unrecognizable. Don’t worry, though! We’re going to write our congressmen, stage protests and write petitions and we won’t rest until TRADITIONAL MARRIAGE is the only kind of marriage.

Anyone unwilling or unable to live by the standards set forth in the Bible, NO MARRIAGE FOR YOU!

MUST PROVE AND PROFESS A BELIEF IN GOD:

Currently, any couple sporting opposite genitals and no more than a few common alleles, can go get married tomorrow. No one asks them about their religious beliefs or lack thereof. Atheists can get married. Even a Satan worshiper can enter into marriage! I think this is a huge problem and I’m stunned it has never been addressed. People are getting MARRIED in courtrooms and parks by JUDGES! Appalling, I tell ya.

No God? NO MARRIAGE FOR YOU!

SINNERS NEED NOT APPLY:

Obviously, we can’t expect people to be completely infallible, much less completely without sin, so we can allow for some wiggle room. However, if we are going to make the assertion that the sin of homosexuality disqualifies their right to marriage, we should probably consider spreading out the sin restriction. I mean, for fuck’s sake, if you’re a rapist, a pedophile, or a serial killer on death row, marriage is yours for the taking. We will draw the fucking line at a gay serial killer getting married, though? See! Bigger fish, people! Bigger fish!

You break a BIG commandment? NO MARRIAGE FOR YOU!

WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO, GOT TO DO WITH IT?:

Traditional marriage wasn’t built on love.  One of the major overhauls to traditional marriage happened when people fought for the right to marry someone of their own choosing, of their own volition. Traditional marriages were arranged marriages, motivated by men wanting to secure social and/or political rank.  Reinstating this aspect of traditional marriage will really hit home the next time someone makes the argument, “homosexuals just want the same right as you, to be able to marry the person they LOVE”, because now you can say, ‘Wrong, bitch” as you tell them all about your TRADITIONAL marriage and how you met your spouse on your wedding day all those years ago and that you’re pretty sure that, one day, you might even learn to love one another. Maybe you won’t. Who cares, though! That’s not what marriage is about. This is business!

You want to marry for love? Too bad! NO MARRIAGE FOR YOU!

WHO NEEDS A SISTER WHEN YOU CAN HAVE A SISTER WIFE!?:

Traditional marriage doesn’t restrict men to just one wife. What kind of life is that? Traditional marriage permits men to marry as many women as they can support. Hey, if they can’t take on any more wives, they have the option to keep an unlimited number of concubines. Abraham had two wives and Solomon had 700, not to mention an impressive army of concubines. Adultery is a sin committed by women. Men have an eternal “hall pass”. Don’t ask questions.

You want a monogamous marriage? Well, you can roll the dice but you don’t have any guarantee, nor any recourse if you end up disappointed. Which brings me to my next point…

YOU GET ONE SHOT AT THE SHOW:

Divorce will be made illegal, immediately. Exceptions may apply but are at the discretion of the court. Any persons granted a divorce will be ineligible for future marriage.

You left your previous marriage because of abuse, infidelity, addiction, or general misery with one another? NO MARRIAGE FOR YOU!

The following items will also render persons ineligible for MARRIAGE:

  • Premarital sex. Virginity, in the form of an intact hymen, is a requirement of women entering into marriage. If, upon consummation of the marriage, there is no physical evidence of hymen rupture, the marriage will be voided and the women will be imprisoned and face the death penalty. Women who’ve engaged in premarital sex can seek companionship via concubine status (*this prohibition does not apply to men*)
  • If you’ve ever put a penis in any other orifice than a vagina, NO MARRIAGE FOR YOU!
  • Incest, though, gets a green light.

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Or, another idea is, maybe we could just live and let live. If Joe and Henry want to get married, how does it threaten the sanctity of your marriage? How does it hurt you? I’ve never heard anyone demanding a law be passed to prohibit celebrities like Britney Spears and Kim Kardashian from being allowed to call their record-setting unions a “marriage”. I’m going to let you in on a little secret: The government CANNOT sanctify your marriage. I’m dead serious. You don’t need a death certificate to get into heaven, either, in case you were wondering. If your moral code makes no allowance for anything other than baby making sex, in the missionary position, why do you think you are obligated, much less allowed to impose those sanctions, religious or otherwise, on others? I don’t know if you’re aware but a man and a woman can achieve great levels of immoral kink that would make some people’s heads spin. A penis and a vagina are not, or rather should not be, how we measure the social value or implications of the family unit. I don’t know about any of you but, when I applied for a marriage license, no one asked me or my husband if he had intentions of putting his dick anywhere other than my vagina. We could use sodomy as birth control and we’d maintain the right to use the term “marriage”. Truth be told, I have no idea why the government is in the marriage business as it is. I’d happily support the argument that “marriage” apply only to the religious institution if, and only if, the government weren’t involved. That means, no government licensing, no tax benefits, no special legal recognition or treatment. If two people want to enter into a legally binding civil union, they don’t need the government to set the terms and make a contract. I’m sure people will read that and think its weird, even though they don’t think it is weird that it is no different from how marriage is currently handled, it just removes the third-party that only serves to tax your relationship, for better or for worse. 599695_351828551595626_80547546_n-300x223

You shouldn’t be demanding laws to protect the delicate sensibilities of others. If you’re offended by gay marriage, don’t get gay married. Easy, peasy. I’m not exactly excited about anybody with functioning reproductive organs being allowed to breed but you don’t hear me calling for a government licensing requirement pending a moderate screening process, do you? If Adam and Steve or Ana and Eve  love each other and want that magic government certificate, who the fuck cares? You don’t legislate the personal, intimate, consensual relationships of adults. If you want to get married once, 5 times or never, I have zero fucks to give. It doesn’t hurt me, it doesn’t even affect me. If you’re a pitcher or a catcher or a scissoring expert or celibate, if it doesn’t cost me money or get me pregnant, knock yourselves out or up. Have a fucking blast. Don’t steal my shit, don’t hurt my kids, don’t kill me and I’ll do the same in return.

The Good Wife’s Guide

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ALLEGEDLY, this is an excerpt from a 1950′s magazine, though its origin is undetermined, according to Snopes.

Regardless of its origins, I was led to another blogger’s post via Pinterest the other day, which was endorsing the same marital advice for any other Stepford wife in training. I’m using this list, rather than link the blog because:
1) It is pretty much the same list, just in different words.

2) I don’t like the idea of rewarding the aforementioned blog with traffic, given the values that the author espouses in regards to a woman’s role.

In the 50′s, this brand of advice would be expected. Disappointed doesn’t begin to describe how I feel knowing that there are women that still subscribe to and endorse this school of thought.

Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they get home and the prospect of a good meal is part of the warm welcome needed.

Look, if you want me to cook dinner you can’t put all these conditions on it like, it needs to be ready on time and/or it has to be delicious. Do I look like a fucking magician? If I make plans to serve Fruit Loops for dinner the night before, do I still get my ‘good wife’ award?

Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.

Hold the fucking phone. Did I get married or take a job in the hospitality industry? Touch up my make up? Put a ribbon in my hair? Are you kidding me? I would love to be “fresh-looking” but with 4 kids, including a toddler and an infant, anyone that crosses my path, including my husband, should take it as a compliment if I find the time to put on deodorant and a bra. Guess what, honey–the baby still isn’t sleeping through the night so you’re coming home to a work weary person too.
Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

Dance monkey, DANCE!

Bored? Suck it up, buttercup, or find something to do. I’ve been doing everything short of juggling knives to entertain these children all day, it isn’t my “duty” to entertain or amuse any adult unless I am being payrolled as a performer.
Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Run a dust cloth over the tables.

Trying to clean up, even just clear the clutter, with four kids on the loose is like trying to shovel the driveway in the middle of a blizzard. If Husband wanted an orderly home every night when he got home, he shouldn’t have kept knocking me up.
During the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering to his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

For starters, no one would ever describe this household as a “haven of rest and order”. I mean, for fuck’s sake, we have four kids. Furthermore, I cater to the comfort of the 8 month old because when he ain’t happy, nobody’s happy. As a matter of fact, EVERYBODY caters to Number Four’s comfort. That’s it. Everyone else in the house can kiss my ass. You’re on your own. If the love of my life wants a fire, he can march his ass over to the fireplace and turn the lever. BAM! Fire. Unwind away. While you’re at it, rub my feet. PLEEEEEEAAASE!!
Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet.
If Husband wants to walk into a quiet house, he better go somewhere else.
Be happy to see him.

I assume this requires me to be VISIBLY happy to see him. Our dogs go nuts when he gets home. They are wagging their tails, whimpering and licking his feet and face. Should I act like them or will a simple, “hi” suffice?
Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

So, knee pads?
Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first – remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

No, they’re not.

By the way, this was the premise of one of the tips from the offending blog that really got under my skin. It pains me to know that there are so many women out there that truly believe that they are incapable of having any relevant thought or opinion when conversing with men, much less a spouse. It truly makes me sick.
Don’t greet him with complaints and problems.

If Number Three found a bottle of nail polish and used it to do a remodel of the kitchen cabinets, Husband is  going to hear about it the second he comes  home. If I’ve spent the day wading through a sea of vomit and shit, you can bet your ass that I will be bitching about it from the moment he steps through the door.
Don’t complain if he’s late for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through at work.

If he’s going to be late for work, all I need is a heads up via phone call or text. Wevs. If he stays out all night, he’s got a lot more than me complaining to worry about. I don’t care if he wants to go grab a drink or go watch football at a friend’s house. On more than one occasion, he has stayed at his friend’s house after a game or fight so as not to drive after drinking. HOWEVER, if I am not told of such plans and he were to just not come home all night, there will be hell to pay. I don’t give a flying fuck what happened at work. If he doesn’t call me or text me and just doesn’t come home, he better be in the muthafucking hospital because, if not, I will put him there.
Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or lie him down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

I’m going to hand him a kid and go take that piss I have been holding for four hours. If he wants a drink, he has arms and legs with which to get it his goddamn self. If he asks nicely, though, I’ll oblige. He’s a grown ass man. I don’t need to “lie him down in the bedroom”. What the absolute fuck? Do these women wipe their husband’s asses for them?
Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.

Ladies: Give birth to children, don’t marry one. Unless he is disabled, he can take off his own damn shoes. I’m not saying it is degrading if you want to help your tired, sore or sick husband take off his shoes. I’ve helped Husband pull of his work boots. You just wont see me donning pearls, fluffing pillows and removing shoes, while speaking in a sweet, soothing voice, as part of any routine, especially not all at the same time.
Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

This was the gist of another bullet on that blog and was the other that really raised my hackles.  If I have cause to question Husband’s integrity or actions, you can bet that I will raise questions.

I absolutely CRINGE at the thought that there are women that truly believe that their worth is solely contingent upon someone’s opinion, subject to change on a whim if the wrong mood strikes. The fact that so many of these women have daughters that they are passing these “values” on to is beyond disturbing. The basic message for these girls is that if you want a man to recognize  value within her, she must demonstrate in all her thoughts and every action that she is utterly worthless.

A good wife always knows her place.

I’m going to smash my computer.

Here are a list of values I hope to instill in my daughter when she considers future relationships:

You, and you alone, determine your worth. Not your peers. Not some man.

Don’t be afraid or ashamed to demonstrate free thought or intelligence. Worthwhile men appreciate a woman with whom they can hold an intelligent conversation.

A worthwhile man will treat you as his social and intellectual equal. He will value your opinion and will view marriage as an equal partnership, not an imbalanced hierarchy.

A worthwhile man wont derive happiness from the subjugation of your own. In a healthy relationship, achieving happiness should be treated as a common goal.

Having a penis does not make one’s contribution to society any more relevant than your own.

It is not your “duty” to subjugate yourself to or serve anyone. Anything you do for your spouse should be carried out willingly of your own volition, not out of fear of reprise from your “master”.

You should respect your husband but never become convinced that you are unworthy of the same.

It’s okay to be in a shitty mood from time to time.

If you have a complaint, complain. Don’t be one of those people who do nothing BUT complain but never be fearful of airing your grievances.

If your husband goes MIA for an entire night or engages in any other brand of douchebag asshattery and asserts that you have no right to question him or his behavior, tell him to go pack his shit and kick fucking rocks. He can then decide, somewhere else, whether to beg for your forgiveness or continue to act like a caveman.

A good husband knows when to bring home wine.

The Virgin Valuation

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You like that title? I went all “Big Bang Theory” on that shit. They should hire me as their title writer. I’d be awesome. Moving on…

I saw an article recently, announcing that the 2012 Purity Ball was in the works and couldn’t wait to reserve a spot for my husband and daughter! She will be wearing a beautiful ball gown and we will adorn her hair with pretty flowers and her father will dress in a tuxedo and they will go and dance together until the ceremony begins. Then my daughter will look her daddy in the eyes and pledge her virginity to him until marriage and then her father will vow to defend and protect her virginity to the death or until she is married. I know some people think it is a bit strange but, don’t worry, we are going to go to an attorney, after the verbal agreement, to get documented legal ownership of her hymen, of course.  We aren’t idiots! Since she is just a girl, she can’t be trusted with making choices for herself, now or in the future. As a father it is his job to ensure that her future husband gets first dibs on our little girl. Until then, her daddy is going to be hyper vigilant to keep her hymen intact!

Okay, seriously, am I the only one that finds the purity ball scenario beyond fucking weird? Girls, starting in preschool, being dressed up for a date with their daddies, where they will vow to remain “pure” until marriage and their daddies will assume the role of gatekeeper of his daughter’s vagina. First of all, I take issue with “pure” being a euphemism for virginity. Pure is defined as “free from contamination”, “clean”, “untainted”. A girl’s value is not inside her vagina, precariously contained only by the hymen, like a tupperware lid.

If you teach your daughter that her virginity is a “gift” for a future husband, you are inadvertently teaching your daughter to objectify herself.  I, for one, don’t want my daughter to think  that the most relevant contribution that she can make to her future husband lies between her legs. I also don’t want my daughter to think of sex as something that will render her “tainted”, “impure” or “damaged goods”. In that same vein, I don’t want my sons to objectify girls or view them as conquests. I don’t want any of my children qualifying the worth of themselves or others on the basis of a sexual history. I’m going to try the road less traveled and try to instill confidence and self worth in my children and teach them to respect themselves and their bodies. I don’t want my sons having indiscriminate sex any more than my daughter. You just don’t see me organizing a party that would culminate in my sons pledging his penis and sperm to me until he meets a girl I decide can have a run at him.

On a related note, have you seen this shirt:As a mother to three sons, I just don’t find this train of thought all that amusing. I know it is tongue in cheek but I also know that a lot of parents still do think it is funny and/or necessary to do things like hold or clean a gun when meeting their daughter’s date. The threat is clear, whether through subtle or direct means that, “if you touch my little girl, I’m coming for you.” I’ll just say, if a parent of one of my sons’ future dates were to make threats of violence or brandish a gun to imply a threat for no other reason than he was picking her up for a date, there would be a problem. If your daughter were to come to my home to go out with my son and I pulled out a gun and told her to keep her hands off of my precious little boy, what would you think?

Random Musings and Bitching

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Maybe I am still a bit hormonal or oversensitive but I want people to STOP telling me, “You look good for having just had a baby”.  To me, it is the same as saying, “You look like fat dog shit but it’s okay because you just had a baby”.  I know I look like shit.  I haven’t brushed my hair in weeks.  I haven’t lost even a portion of the baby weight and I haven’t slept since the second trimester.  You don’t have to try to convince me I look decent, especially when you are so horrible at it, you basically tell me I look like ass. 

Moving on–I have been telling my husband over and again, I would really appreciate him taking on the laundry, including folding and putting away (the steps he ALWAYS ignores), on his days off.  Number Four has proved to be more than a bit overwhelming, especially when coupled with a busy toddler.  I have never been up for any awards for housewife of the year but the house seems to have gone to hell in a handbasket since the latest arrival.  So, the other day, the hubs has a day off and he decides he is going to roll up his sleeves and help me get some shit in order.  The garage.  I shit you not.  He spent all fucking day organizing the muthafucking garage.  It looks immaculate but what the shit am I supposed to do with a clean garage?  I might be pissed about that one for a while.  

Finally–When you call a doctor and tell them that your child has been coughing and congested and they ask, “Does he/she have a temperature”?  Well, I sure as shit hope so!  I would think not having a temperature would indicate that one was a bit late with the call to the doctor.   I am just sayin’

Romance Isn’t Dead

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My husband and I have been together for 11 years and have managed this in spite of our four children. At the end of the day, it is all about keeping the romance alive. You have to avoid taking each other for granted and keep the home fires burning.

When my husband wants to be romantic, you think he buys me flowers or surprises me with jewelry? My husband is too romantic to waste our time and money on those tired clichés. He puts real thought into how to woo me and gets creative. One of his signature romantic overtures is to wait until I am leaning over to empty the dishwasher and to come up behind me and start humping me from behind. That makes me melt.

Another thing, he is always focused on me and my well being and health. For instance, if I tell him that my throat hurts, he doesn’t hesitate to inform me that semen will make me feel better and to offer me a dose of the cure. NO STRINGS ATTACHED. Or if I complain about being fatigued, he immediately concerns himself with my protein intake and, again, doesn’t hesitate to offer the opportunity to get my “protein injection”. He is nothing if not a giver.

Our fourth child just turned one month old and he is always checking on me from work. Just the other day he sent me this text:

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Seriously, I love that man. People don’t get our senses of humor most of the time but it is what makes me love him so much. He cracks me up. Making me laugh is the best romantic gesture he can make. Okay, aside from that wedding band upgrade I have been bringing up for the past year, making me laugh is the second best gesture.

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If a Man Is Standing In the Forest and No One Is There To Hear Him, Is He Still Wrong?

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You know those people that will be telling you a story about people  you have never and will never meet but, for some reason, they feel compelled to derail from the point of their story to fill you in on the entire life story of every total stranger that has a supporting role in their story?  That person is my husband.

Last week, my husband came home from watching a football game and was excited to inform me that he had won a little cash on the game.  I was completely satisfied with that amount of information.  It was good news, no more details necessary.  So, I have no idea why my husband deemed it necessary to elaborate any further but he did.  He went on to begin explaining the details of the bet and why he won–some crap about “the spread”.  You would think my blank stare would suffice in making him realize he was talking to the wrong person but NO.  He just kept on about some play and some player that almost cost him the money and more crap about the spread.  Finally, I stopped him and reminded him that I don’t follow football and I had no idea what he was talking about but, hey, YEAH to winning money.  You would think the man didn’t know me at all or had not spent the last 11 years with me because he  began explaining these details and concepts to me.  Pan to me, wearing the same blank stare.  I stopped him again and told him that not only did I not know what he was talking about with all this football crap but, furthermore, I didn’t care.  Not even a teeny, tiny bit.  He looked at me, a bit stunned and then began trying to break it down even further.  When I stopped him, AGAIN (Seriously–11 years), I reiterated that I didn’t understand all the rules, details and jargon because I don’t care to understand any of it, not because it has never been effectively explained to me.  I told him it would be similar to me explaining to him why some of my shoes could be worn with jeans or a dress and others were not so versatile.  My point was made and we both moved on.  I give it one month before we have the exact same conversation because, believe it or not, this conversation has taken place countless times.  The details may change but the story is all the same.

The hubs is a crane operator and will often try to tell me stories about the job.  I try sooooo hard to feign interest.  I do.  It just never fails, though, that he will get sidetracked from telling the story to explain to me the logistics of some piece of machinery or the inner workings of some generator and I just can’t keep up the charade. 

I don’t know how a generator works or why X,Y,Z would cause it to malfunction or explode.  More importantly, though, I DON’T CARE!  Bless his heart, though, he thinks I do.  Well, at least until I tell him that I don’t.  I think I am going to start explaining to him why I put my make up on in the order that I do.

He is lucky I love him.  Most of the time.

 

Dang, Anything Else?

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I’m hungry!  I’m not hungry!  I’m tired!  I’m not tired!  I’m hot!  I’m cold!  Pick me up!  Put me down!  Fix me some food!  I’m thirsty!  I want ketchup!  I didn’t like it because it had ketchup on it!  I need to potty!  I already pottied!  I peed in my pants!

BREATHE!  1…2…3…4…5…fuck this counting shit.  It only takes me 3.5 seconds to open a bottle of wine.

These three curtain climbers can be the source of my greatest joy and my greatest stress.   I know that there are those sanctimonious martyr mom bitches that say “Children are gifts from heaven.  I like to spend every waking second with my children and any mother that takes two seconds to herself is selfish and she should have thought about that before she had kids.”.  Well, to her, I say: fuck the fuck off.  I love my kids but I don’t have to like my kids 24/7.  Any parent that says they do is either A) Lying or B) Full of shit.  You see, I don’t think admitting that makes me a bad mother.  I would give my life for any of my children and there are days when I feel like my children are trying to kill me themselves, with a plan they have secretly concocted to make my fucking head explode.

My husband works out, pretty much everyday.  Whether he runs or goes to the gym, that is his daily time to blow off some steam.  For some reason, some group of uptight bitches got together and decided that squeezing a kid out of your vagina suddenly rendered women impervious to stress.  These are the same bitches that decided that admitting that being a mother was hard or a mother needing her own personal time out was a sign of failure.  They got the word out and it spread quickly.  Women are so fucking afraid to admit that they aren’t perfect mothers or that they don’t ever feel overwhelmed or that they want to be able to have a little time to themselves.  Well, guess what?  I’m not.  At times, my kids make me want to stand in the middle of the street and scream a steady stream of expletives.  I want to pull my damn hair out!  I think to myself, “I wonder why kennels for kids never caught on?”.  So, I make sure that I get my own “time outs”, at least once or twice a week.  If that means that one or a few of my friends gather on my patio or on one of their patios, as God as our witness, we are going to gather, dammit!  And, there will be wine!  Oh yes!  There will be wine.  It is our therapy.  We bitch and vent and then we end up laughing about all those things that we thought were going to push us over the edge a few hours earlier.  Thankfully, I have surrounded myself with a group of friends that are equally as honest about how imperfect they are as mothers.  There isn’t any judgment, just wine.  You have to have wine! 

I jokingly tell my husband that I am going to the gym when I have plans for a girls’ night in.  Becoming a mother doesn’t make your needs suddenly irrelevant.  It doesn’t mean that you are no longer entitled to or in need of some personal time.  If anything, it makes it even more necessary.  Adults need to interact with adults.  Adults need to have conversations  in which the words Caillou, Sprout, poopy diaper and Toy Story are not brought up.   Adults need to have times when they are not required to break up fights between preschoolers.  Adults need to have friends to drink wine and bitch with because drinking alone is frowned upon.

If you want to hole up in your home and immerse yourself only in your children and their interests and topics of conversation, be my guest.  My money is on your future admission into a mental hospital. Good luck with that.

I love my bitches.

Can’t Talk to a Psycho Like a Normal Human Being

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Have you recently found yourself saddled with a knocked up wife, girlfriend, sister or friend?  Men:  If you put the baby in there, you have  no one to blame but yourself.  You didn’t talk her into the abortion.  Suck it up, buttercup.  You pulled the trigger, you finish the race.   Here are some tips and warning signs to help you get through these nine months alive.

You may ask yourself, “what the fuck is her problem?”.  Let me tell you a few of her problems:

  • She has, most likely, been forced to disregard the slightest degree of germaphobia the moment her body decided to reject the Taco Supreme with extra sour cream it had been screaming for only moments earlier, forcing her to embrace and shove her head into a receptacle that has hosted almost as many asses in its career as Richard Simmons in his.
  • Do you enjoy being stabbed repeatedly in the pubic area?  If so, you would LOVE round ligament pain.
  • Not having a period is one of the touted benefits of pregnancy.  Don’t put those tampons in storage just yet, you can still find a use for them now that your nose is going to be the one with a period!  If you are like me, it will be almost daily!!
  • Weight gain!  Because nothing says “I’m bringing sexy back” like elastic waistbands.

If you are interacting with a pregnant woman, don’t ever assume you are safe.  Always consider her armed and dangerous.  Even if the only weapon in her arsenal are the countless hormones surging through her body, be afraid.  Be very afraid.  Signs you should abandon your mission and run:

  • Tears.  Even if it just looks like her eyes might be watering, take no chances.  Run.
  • She suddenly stops talking or responding to you and only stares, even if she is being directly addressed or questioned.
  • Her only response or contribution to the conversation is a flat “whatever.”.
  • Her stomach growls.

Dads:  Are you feeling neglected?  Left out?  Have you tried to give her the business only to find she has closed up the shop?  Maybe she wants the business but the realization that her vagina is soon going to transport a tiny, screaming human larvae into the world has rendered you impotent.  Either way, you can revive your sex life.

Are you being rejected?  You are going to have to play a little hardball but, remember, all is fair in love and war.  You have to make her want you to want her and that is going to mean you have to hit her in the ego.  It is kind of like high school:

  • Strategically but noticeably  place stretch mark cream amongst her beauty supplies.
  • When you both get in bed, pull out the latest issue of “Hotties with Vacant Uteri” and your favorite lotion and go to work.  If she interrupts, take your tools into another room and tell her that she is spoiling the moment.
  • Look at older photos and compliment her pre-pregnancy hips.

If the problem is that you can’t get the soldier to salute, there are a couple of solutions:

  • Admit that you are gay.  I mean, seriously.  Pregnant or not, most men won’t turn down an available vagina.  Not to mention, her boobs have, at least, doubled in size.  That is nature’s distraction.  If this is the case, get her to pull her hair up in a baseball cap and roll her over.
  • Medicine

You are welcome.  This could end up being another series.

How to be a good parent with good kids:

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  • Use your resources.  The TV, for instance, is better and cheaper than a nanny.  You turn it on, it keeps the kids quiet and occupied and, in most cases, it is even teaching them something.  Then, at the end of the day, you don’t have to hear the television tell you about where you are falling short as a parent. 
  • There is nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.  Make a ranking chart and put on the refrigerator.  You can call it the “Mommy’s Favorite Board” or something to that effect.  At the beginning of every day, gather the children around and rank them from top to bottom on the chart.  Explain that the top spot is mommy’s favorite and go on to explain why/how they made that position (they did this favor, they didn’t talk back, etc).  Let all the children know that this order can change at any moment, without notice.  Make sure to take any reason to go switch the order and appoint a new favorite.  This is even more effective if the favorite gets some sort of privilege.  It really gets the kids in line.  Sure, the experts will rag on and on about damaging their self esteem, long term damage and blah, blah, blah but fuck that noise.  If they maintain the “mommy’s favorite” position, their self esteem will be fine.  It is a long term goal to teach them to strive for along with the short term reward.
  • Drink.  If you haven’t already, after having children is a good time to take up drinking.  Don’t listen to these fuckwit sanctimommies that go on and on about it being irresponsible or that the minute your piss makes the line on the magic plastic stick, you are no longer allowed to be remotely selfish.  I like my “me time” and I like it a lot better when there is a bottle of wine to keep me company.  You thought alcohol was important the day after you turned 21?  It is a requirement of a good parent.  They should hand out bottles of wine and liquor to parents in the hospital. 
  • Force your children to subscribe to gender stereotypes from birth.  Do not let little boys like pink or even touch your purse or a doll, regardless of whether he is 6 months or 6 years old.  If he does any of the above, he will most likely grow up and want to fondle and marry other boys.  If he shows interest in a toy kitchen, for instance, slap his hand, tell him that cooking is woman’s work and make him look at a Playboy magazine, while holding a truck in one hand and a hunting rifle in the other.  If your daughter wants to play with her brother’s toy tool set and you let her, you might as well go buy her a wallet chain and a Melissa Etheridge album.
  • Do not talk to children about sex.  That is sick and inappropriate and it should never be discussed.  If your children express any curiosity or ask questions regarding sex, tell them that sex is bad and thinking about sex, talking about sex or having sex before marriage is a one way ticket to hell.  Discussion over.  
  • If your children yell at you or talk back or are disrespectful in general, buy them something and apologize for angering them. If you tell your child to clean his/her room and he/she screams back “NO!  Fuck you, mom!  You clean my fucking room!  I hate you!”.  Obviously, you have done something to upset or offend your precious angel and it must be resolved.  In order to make amends, you should clean his/her room and/or go buy a present for your disgruntled child/teen and beg for forgiveness.  This can also apply to incidents when teacher call to discuss your child’s behavior.  You know that bitch probably has a vendetta against your precious little baby and/or is jealous of you and is taking it out on him/her.  When she tells you that little Junior told her to shove her book up her ass, you make sure and ask her what she has against your child and what she did to provoke his/her response.

This is parenting, people, not rocket science.  Now, go have a drink.