Friday, May 31, 2013

Help Wanted! Apply Within!

I have been watching a lot of Downton Abbey lately.  A lot.  Maybe too much, because I have decided that I need servants.

I'm not talking about a housekeeper that comes in once every 2 weeks to clean behind the toilet (though that would be really nice).  I'm talking about an entire staff of servants.  I am even willing to dress myself in the morning to lighten their load.  I would be a benevolent master, after all.  I just want a staff to handle the necessities.

Any parent will tell you that they play multiple roles in their house:  cook, maid, moderator (sometimes more like referee), chauffeur, hairdresser, dry cleaner, nurse, etc.  And, we still have to make time for our normal adult responsibilities, like brushing our teeth.  It's ridiculous.

So, just for fun, I started looking into how much it would cost to find professionals to complete my less than favorite tasks around the house...

Bio Hazard Clean Up:  On those horrible days when one child comes down with the stomach flu, then the rest of the family falls like a pile of projectile vomiting dominoes, guess who has to clean that nastiness up.  Me.  Gross.  I think the $1000 retainer fee is well worth it if it means I won't get puke chunks under my finger nails ever again.

Pet Sitter:  I have mentioned my dog only briefly in these posts.  Briefly is enough for me.  I love my dog, but I am not a dog person...or a cat person...or really an animal person.  Horses are O.K., but I've never had one in my living room.  Judge away.  $180 daily for someone to clean up after the dog, walk her, feed her and play with her??  Bargain!

Short Order Cook:   I have a daughter who would live solely on mac and cheese, and a son who won't eat pasta.  One likes the meat, one who prefers the veggies.  One likes savory breakfasts, one likes sweet.  After I've sorted out something they will agree on, I usually end up tearing open a bag of salad for the sane ones...errrr...adults in our house.  I'm sure we could come up with an additional $32,000 annually to have someone provide us each with our ideal meals. 

Professional Organizer:  When we moved all our belongings while the house was under construction, I found the manuals for my son's Exersaucer.  This would have come in handy in 2002.  However, 11 years later?  I was seriously flirting with the term "Hoarder".  $85 per hour is all it would cost to have someone come in and sort through all my crap.  I figure I will only need them for about an hour each day for maintenance, that is, once they get through the initial stacks and piles.

I think this would be enough help to allow me to etch out an hour every week for pedicures like a proper housewife.  It might also afford me the opportunity to watch soap operas and eat bonbons with my feet up.  Something that has been missing from my life for the last, well, for my whole life.  All for a yearly price tag of $121,700.00.  My husband might have to get a second job, and I might have to learn how to pole dance and walk in stilettos, but I think we could make it work. 

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Puggles and Instagram

The dog woke me up at 5am. Then she stuck her nose in my coffee cup. I'm sure some day I will forgive her for these transgressions, but today is not that day. 

Because I was awake at this ungodly hour, and it sounded much better than going for a run, I checked Instagram. This morning, instead of the usual barrage of manicure pics, I noticed a ton of 6th grade girls (Yes, I follow 6th grade girls. They're my besties. Shut up.) posting things asking others to rate their hotness. I am struggling with this on a number of levels. 

First of all, no one is hot when they're 11. No one is sexy at 12. You are just awkward. If you're lucky, it's a cute awkward. That's about the best you can hope for. I can say this because I was the most awkward of them all. My hair was stringy. I had bird legs. I was clumsy. It was awesome. I would never have asked anyone to rate my hotness, because I didn't care. That's what being 11 is for. You don't have to care when you're 11. You have all of high school to care before you get to not care again in college. It's the natural order of things. 

Secondly, the boys who rate these girls need a swift kick in their tiny man parts. Or at least a time out or something. To hear the boys tell it, the girls should be thankful the boys even speak to them. Gentlemen, you are just as awkward as the ladies. Besides, saying things like "you get a C+" or telling a girl "you would be hot if..." is not smart game, little dudes. Girls have loooooong memories. They will definitely remember those comments when they're out of that awkward stage and you start texting them. Think it through. 

My daughter knows she's smart. She knows she's beautiful. She doesn't need a boy with a bad Bieber cut and skinny jeans to tell her so. And, my son doesn't get to think its ok to rate girls like they're beef. I guess I will carry on being "the mean mom" not giving in to their constant quest for social media. I will continue to live life hearing "but all my friends are on Instagram" over and over and over, day after day after day...  We all have a cross to bear. 

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

A First Time for Everything

After much persuading from my adoring fans (my mom and grandmother), I have decided to write my very first post.  I have absolutely no goals for this blog, and no idea what I will write about from day to day.  But, I can promise it will be an honest account of my always exciting existence.  It will also probably damage my chances of ever holding public office. 

A few things you might want to know about me:

1.  I am extremely opinionated, and at some point I'm sure reading this will piss you off.  Sorry about that.

2.  I have a wonderful husband.  I have absolutely adored him since I was 16.  He tolerates me very well.

3.  My children are, by far, the smartest, funniest, most beautiful, well-behaved angels who have ever set foot on planet earth.  Except for when they're not.  I love them fiercely, and like all other mild mannered moms the world over, I will cut you if you look at them wrong.

4.  I have a dog. 

I am sure anyone reading this is enthralled by now, to say the least. 

All sarcasm aside, I really hope you check in from time to time, comment on posts, pick fights with other readers, troll...whatever.  Any response is better than none.  If no one comments, I'll feel like I'm talking to myself.  And, while I will admit to being a little 'eccentric' or 'free-spirited', talking to yourself on the Internet is just full blown crazy.  I'm not quite there yet.