Sunday, June 3, 2007


It has been brought to my attention by an avid fan (well, OK, my dad, and “fan” might have been over-stating the case as well) that my brand new blog is a bit, well... unclear in topic. I’m not sure why I’m going to bother listening to him, what with his being at least 95 percent of the reason I am this nuts, (the fault of the other 5 percent I could be persuaded lies with me), but in the interest of starting on the right foot, I will attempt some clarification.

I think what threw him was the housewife thing. (There was also some mention of the fact I might be on drugs. I am choosing to interpret this as concern, on his part, versus accusation.)

But just to be clear: I use the term housewife only very loosely, and in the very broadest sense, and in the same all-encompassing, oppressive, suffocating vein in which society has bestowed upon some of us that heavy mantle: you are the person people go to when they need clean socks.

Domino’s can bring dinner; the odd father or two can clean up after. But when it’s socks they want, you can be a CEO in charge of a multi-million dollar company that makes the world go ‘round, they’re still coming to you. I do not know why this is. It just is. Perhaps they believe that after we’re done having babies, the uterus turns into a sock factory. I don’t really know. And that was kind of gross to think about, actually. So let’s stop there and get to the point.

The point is, this blog might not be so much for you if you are:

1. Actually seeking housewifely hints. I don’t know of any, other than just getting through the darn day as best you can (I give myself extra points if no alcohol is involved).
2. Trying to share your tips. I don’t really do that stuff. Some very nice people come clean my house every two weeks. In between, I yell at my husband, at ever-escalating decibel levels, that something really needs to be done about your bathroom because there is no way I SHOULD BE LETTING MY CHILDREN IN THERE! (I know it’s horrible of me, but I make them all share one. I have my own. I’m will not digress now to explain it. Suffice to say, along with being cranky, I am not really all that nice.) And why should I be the one cleaning that? Ew.
3. One of those happy people that thinks everything is just lovely. In fact, I’m not even 100 percent sure I like people who use the word ‘lovely.’ (Unless you’re a grandma, of course. Then it’s perfectly lovely.) But my glass is pretty much half empty, all the time, no matter what. I’m not saying that’s right, it’s just what it is. I apologize.
4. One of those mommies that loves staying home with your kids. I will not justify my position on this, either, other than to emphasize I didn’t say you didn’t love your kids, or that you don’t like spending time with them. What I said was love staying home with your kids. All. The. Time. Forever. And. Ever. With nothing else but PTO meetings and Girl Scout overnights and School Board sessions and homework projects and doggy poop scooping to break up all the gasping for air… er, I mean... fun. There might be people who do enjoy this. I’m not arguing that. I’m not arguing anything. Just saying that they won’t be happy here.
5. Looking for cute kid stories. I have kids. They’re cute sometimes. But isn’t everything already about them? Enough already.
6. Looking for a debate or philosophical discussion of women at home versus women at work. I will talk about it when I like the answer.

I’m not making it to 10. Let’s face it – I ran out of steam a while ago, maybe around number two. So c’mon. Be a grown up. If you’re kind of hyperventilating and feeling veins throbbing out of assorted body parts, it might be time to move along. There are so many other more interesting battles out there. I’m still a little unclear of where we came down on the whole paper versus plastic issue, for example.


Uncool Guy said...

You go, Mad Mad!

Wendi Aarons said...

OK, fine. Uuderstood.

But first, can you tell me how to do some cool crafts with tube socks and lighter fluid? Or how to properly dust the top of my refrigerator? And PLEASE, more pix and funny stories about your little darlings!!

hokgardner said...

OK, I've started this comment over fifteen times because I can't find a hip, cool way to say:

You are my favorite blogger. I wish I could write like you. Will you please be my friend?

And even now, I'm having a hard time convincing myself to click the publish button.