1.) Laundry. Mountains of it. Created predominantly by two hooligans who feel compelled to change outfits multiple times a day to keep up with the latest Target fashions. Then I can’t remember what was truly dirty to begin with, and/or I can’t find a spot/stain, so I just chuck it all back through the wash again. Izzy pees through her Pull-Up most nights, so I wash sheets a lot thank goodness Abby sleeps in panties and stays dry. Let’s not even talk about all the track marks in their princess panties. You moms who think dealing with your kids’ poop ends with potty training? I laugh at you. No, see, here’s the rub: they can wipe, and they do wipe, but they do not do a good job. Ewww. So I bond with my Method detergent, my eco-friendly stain spray, and my washing machine. It’s true love, people. I do so much laundry that I deserve one of these beauties for Hanukkah. And a matching dryer. Not necessarily in red, but you get the idea.
2.) I haven’t showered in 3+ days. I used to shower daily, but that was prior to having children. Now showering is a luxury, one I can rarely afford. My options are: (a) shower with little people whining and pounding on the door to tattle at regular intervals; (b) wake up at the ass crack of dawn to shower before the little hags wake up; or (c) shower with them while they point at my va-jay-jay and ask me when they will grow boobies. Anylazy, (d) I’m too tired by the time I corral their little asses into bed at night to shower then. So three days without any soap or shampoo = pretty ripe. Better stay in.
3.) I am too busy cramming Cheez-its in my mouth and washing them down with Honest Tea while watching all the shows I have saved on my DVR, like Brothers & Sisters, Grey’s Anatomy, Dexter, Gossip Girl, and Man vs. Food. Me and the couch? We’re like in love. Actually, this is just a fantasy of mine.
4.) I had a bikini wax the day before. So there’s that initial uncomfortable chafing thing that either no one talks about or only I am privy to. Also there could still be remnants of blue-green wax stubbornly stuck to my lady bits so that mere walking is like a second round of waxing.
5.) I was too busy cleaning the house because The Father Load is hosting a Journal Club tonight with many very important medical people. They come over, eat Oklahoma Joe’s, use too many plastic cups and paper plates you have no idea how this irks me and laugh at me when I put our recycling bins on the patio to prompt them to do the right green thing. And then my whole house which was previously clean and smelling like Mrs. Meyers products now reeks like a barbeque joint and stale beer. Gross.
6.) I am still learning the ways of the vegetarian woman. I haven’t yet determined the proper ratio of salads and fruit to beans and nuts that won’t offend my delicate intestinal tract. When I overdose, my body rebels and leaving the house becomes impossible.
7.) I’m addicted to your blogs. I love reading them. Alas, so many wonderful blogs, so little time. I also love writing blogs. And did I mention reading blogs? I thrive on the connections I’m making with people. I’ve made so many friends and I’ve come out of my shell because I’ve read about you coming out of yours. Thank you. I’m in love with you. You’ve taught me how to use this noggin of mine that’s been dormant for so long. You keep my heart open, my mind sharp, and my body moving. You teach me things every day. THANK YOU for being so delicious that I can’t leave my computer all day. Hello, my name is Erin, and I’m addicted to BlogLand.
8.) My children are being such hellions that I am afraid to take them out in public for fear of being shunned. People will look at me and I’ll be that mom. You know who I’m talking about— that yelling, red-faced, screaming banshee who’s completely out of control. My shopping cart will be full of bribes like Twinkies, Zhu Zhu pets, Halloween candy, coloring books, pop tarts, and all manner of ridiculous crap. I also might start to imagine something like this is a good solution:
9.) I have this eyebow obsession problem. See, if I don’t pluck my caterpillars eyebrows, I might look something like this. And this is being kind, people:
So, I pluck and pluck and pluck (don’t tell me to get ’em waxed because I’m incapable of not plucking until the next wax, can’t tolerate the strays—I am slightly OCD, remember?). And then I have all these lovely red pock marks between my eyes and my eyebrows and I look scary for a day. So I can’t leave the house.
10.) I have absolutely no idea what goes here. But I got nine, so that’s good, right?