Life hacks. Parenting Hacks. Beauty hacks. The internet is flooded with millions of clever little “hacks” intended to make life easier. My husband has his own repertoire of hacks-little tricks uses in everyday life. Picture a really unskilled MacGyver with questionable solutions. Brilliant…maybe. Hilarious…definitely.
When your kids wants to play outside and you can’t find shoes…
…Ziploc bags are the perfect fit.
When you need an extra trash can…
…a hamper will do the job.
When there are no clean coffee mugs…
…a measuring cup is the perfect solution.
Because so much time is wasted hanging clothes…
…and piling them just works so well.
Who needs a vase…
…when you have a blender.
You can use any type of candle on a “birthday muffin”…
…because nothing says “Happy Birthday” like a tea light candle.
When your dish drying mat isn’t quite cutting it…
…flannel pants step in to do the job.
Never send a bowl…
…when a measuring cup can do the job.
Everyone knows only true fans help their team win…
…by standing ridiculously close to the tv screen.
If your dog has a boo boo, save yourself a trip to Petsmart…
…just make a t shirt and duct tape Band-Aid.
It never occurred to me that when you called my name 19 times to wake up in the mornings to go to school that you were just as annoyed as I was. As I would place my pillow over my head and mutter “Why can’t you just let me sleep?”, it never once crossed my mind that you might have been thinking the exact same thing.
Even after a hectic day, I remember you taking the time to cook a well balanced meal. I never once noticed a look of exhaustion on your face. I was too busy wishing we could just order pizza instead. Ironically, that was probably what you were thinking too.
I don’t remember you stressing over never ending piles of laundry.
Or forgetting to sign a permission slip.
Or sending me to school a little disheveled looking in a mismatched outfit.
But, I’m sure there were those days. You are human. There was a time when you were new to being a mom too. There must have been many times when you were exhausted/overwhelmed/scared that you were screwing up your kids. But that’s just another thing I never saw, another thing I never realized until now. And that’s what gets me through on the hardest days of motherhood. The days that I think I’m setting my child up for lifelong standing weekly appointment with a therapist to discuss how her mother failed her. The days when I feel like I can’t handle cooking another dinner/wiping another butt/listening to another meltdown. Those terrible days when I am scared to face my daughter because I don’t want her to see how tired, sad and angry I am. Those days when all I need is a hug and to talk to my mommy so she can make it all better.
Those are the days when I need to stop and realize that just because there are days when I lose confidence and doubt myself as a mother doesn’t mean my children will. Kids don’t notice the behind the scenes action. My kids won’t see my frantic early morning rush through the grocery store to buy oranges and graham crackers. They’ll just know that their mom brought snacks on snack day. They won’t witness me near tears on the phone to book a replacement clown last minute. They’ll just know they had an awesome circus themed birthday party.
Mom, I’ve realized that motherhood isn’t always as easy as you made it seem. I am flawed and messy and insecure. And that’s okay. Because even though you are a beautiful/perfect/funny/loving/superwoman mom, you are only human. Just like me.
Don’t surprise me with a fancy dinner at an expensive restaurant. Want to really impress me? It doesn’t take much. Just handle dinner/clean up on your own and make sure I get to eat my meal without interruption. A hot meal cooked by anyone else but me trumps any Michelin star restaurant in my book.
Don’t buy me sexy lingerie. It’s a waste of money. You saw me give birth, the jig is up.
Don’t buy me chocolates. I will end up eating the whole box while I lay in bed and watch Bravo after everyone goes to sleep. Actually, nix that… buy me chocolate, but come up with a convincing story about how Godiva now makes all of their chocolates low calorie and sugar free.
Don’t give me breakfast in bed that you made with the help of our daughter. Why?
1) Three years olds are definitely not known for their food prep skills,
2) There is a 100% chance that my juice and coffee will spill when our daughter jumps on our bed and 3) who do you think is going to clean up the crumbs from our sheets and be responsible for getting the syrup stain off our comforter?
Don’t buy me flowers. Yes, I know it’s a sweet gesture, but I will spend the next week arguing with a toddler about picking the petals off and sprinkling them all over the floor.
Do set your phone alarm for alerts the week of, day before, night before, early morning of Valentine’s day. Hell hath no fury like a wife/mom who does not receive instant gratitude the second she wakes up on February 14th.
Do leave me alone. I mean that in the nicest way possible. Just for a few hours so I can have at least some time just to relax and read all of the trashy gossip magazines that I no longer have time to read.
Do insist that I take a nap. That’s really all I want ever. Bonus points if while I’m napping you fold the laundry that’s been sitting on top of the dryer for the last five days.
Do tell me I look pretty, ask me if I’ve lost weight and tell me how flattering my yoga pants are.
Do give me the the only gift I really need….a big hug and to be told I’m doing a great job.
Real Housewives…spend hundreds of hours and dollars each month toning and tightening every inch of their bodies.
Real Moms….think that the “YOGA” in Yoga Pants was an acronym for Your Obviously Growing Ass.
Overly Dramatic Temper Tantrums and Meltdowns:
Real Housewives…tend to blame their outbursts on the stress of their 15 minutes of fame and too many glasses of “champs”.
Real Moms…are more likely triggered by lack of sleep, marker murals on the wall and Daddy leaving the toilet seat up, yet again.
Real Housewives… get easily overwhelmed and often need to jet off to fabulously luxurious spa weekends in order to
get lipo and Botox de-stress and rejuvenate.
Real Moms…idea of “Me Time” may include, but is not limited to, hiding in the back of their closet so they can eat chocolate ice cream in peace.
Make Up, Bling and Extravagant Gowns:
Real Housewives…spare no expense to outdo each other with the most natural looking mink eyelash extensions, largest diamonds and vintage Oscar De La Renta gowns.
Real Moms…luxury purchases mainly focus on makeup comes from a Barbie “Glam” set, “bling” that is plastic and miniature dresses modeled after Disney Princesses.
Love to Wine and Dine:
Real Housewives…sip on 50 year old Vintage bottle of Cabernet from their family’s vineyard in Napa while nibbling a fancy amuse bouche.
chug daintily sip Two Buck Chuck while eating cold fish sticks and a crushed bag of Goldfish crackers that they found behind the sofa earlier that day when they were vacuuming up …you guessed it…GOLDFISH.
Real Housewives…spend hours in a salon chair getting primped, prepped and plumped.
Real Moms…leggings, Goody hair ties and a triple layer of under eye concealer are pretty much the extent of a busy mom’s morning beauty routine.
Real Housewives…spend hours at high end boutiques gabbing with friends and stocking up on the newest Louboutin and Birkin bags.
Real Moms…speed shop through the local grocery store while trying to distract their kids from the ridiculously large and garish Bouncy Ball display.
Clothes, Clothes and More Clothes:
Real Housewives…have their clothes lined up on display in impeccably decorated 2,500 sq ft closets.
Real Moms…have their clothes piled up in the laundry room, unfolded in baskets and scattered on the floor of their 2,500 sq ft homes.
1)Are you prepared to give up your “sweet ride” for a fuel efficient family friendly vehicle with goldfish crumbs permanently embedded into the floor mats?
2)Can you picture yourself discussing poop, including color, frequency and consistency, at least once a day?
3)Are you prepared to have the same 6 Disney songs stuck in your head on a regular basis?
4)How attached are you to perky boobs?
5)Are you prepared to function on an average of 4 hours of sleep for the next 18 years?
6)What your views on nipple leakage?
7)Six Pack Abs are soooo 2006, don’t you think that the hot trend now is soft, stretch mark-y stomachs?
8)Are you willing to prepared to fearlessly smell a greenish brown stain on the sofa to determine it’s origin?
9)Are you okay with the fact that your clothes may smell slightly mildewed/wrinkled because odds are I will be too busy and they will sit in the washer and or dryer way too long before I finally get to them?
10)Do you have the patience level to endure hearing the word “why” at least 7,892 times a day?
11)Are you man enough to handle the excruciating pain of stepping on LEGOs and other small toys on a regular basis?
12)You think Push Up Bras and Nursing Bras are equally sexy, right?
Let me preface this post by saying that my husband is AMAZING. He is everything I could have ever wished for in a husband, he is my everything! With that being said, my husband is constantly annoying me. Sometimes he does it on purpose…sometimes it’s just the way he does things. Either way, he drives me insane. So…I have decided to begin to keep track of his annoying habits in a recurring post called “Reasons My Husband Drives Me Crazy”.
Reason #1 My Husband Drives Me Crazy:
He is CONSTANTLY leaving empty boxes/containers in the pantry/fridge.
WHY? Why would someone do that? Is it really that difficult to remove an empty popcorn box from the pantry? Is he forgetful? Early onset Alzheimer’s? Is he getting lazy? I hope not because he is the one who gets up with the baby in the morning. Is he trying to get me to divorce him by driving me nuts? There are WAY less annoying ways that he could go about doing that. I just don’t get it. Why, oh why, would any normal person put an empty butter tub/milk carton/mustard bottle back into the refrigerator?
Reason #2 My Husband Drives Me Crazy:
He refuses to use a washcloth when bathing our daughter and instead uses his Nike socks.
Our conversation this morning went something like this…
Me: Why are there always wet socks on the floor in Ella’s bathroom?
Husband: Because I gave her a bath.
Me: Ummm,ok…so why does giving her a bath always result in you having one soaking wet sock?
Husband: I need something to wash her with.
Me: Wait…when you give her a bath you wash her with a sock?! What is wrong with you?! You can’t wash her with a sock!
Husband: Why not? It’s clean.
Again, I am at a loss for any other word than…WHY?!