Here We Go!

Before I begin to rant about all the things that enrage me I should introduce myself and explain how I came to be the petty woman I am. I started off as a very happy homemaker. I voluntarily became a stay at home mom and I took pride in what I did. I cleaned, cooked, volunteered at my kid's school, baked treats for their school parties, and put on some pretty respectable birthday parties. When my son was about 3 I decided to go back to school. After about 6 years I finished my 2 degrees and started to work.

It was when I started university that I realized that the whole "you can have it all" thing was a big crock. It was impossible to do the things I once did and do well at school. Something had to give. So things slowly began to slip at home. Dinners from scratch were replaced by casseroles that started with Campbell's soup. Floors were washed when the kids started to stick to the linoleum. I stopped being embarrassed when my husband went to work with a wrinkled shirt because he knew where the damn iron was. Dust bunnies became enchanted creatures that inhabited our home. Stuffing things underneath the bed became a perfectly acceptable method of housecleaning.

When I had some free time in the evenings I would flip channels and I became addicted to cooking, home improvement, and make-over shows. I started to do a slow burn as I watched perfect women fix fabulous meals in fantastic homes while dressed in immaculate outfits. Something wasn't adding up. I started to look at the women I knew who had families. A good hunk of them were buying in to this stuff. They marched off to work every morning. They came home and made great meals. After the kids were put to bed they spent their evening cleaning. One of my friends was existing on about 2 hours of sleep a night as she struggled to present a flawless image to the world. I started to see a common thread. Women who felt they needed to live like this worshipped at the altar of Martha, Oprah, and Nigella.

I refuse to buy that crap. The women who are hosting these shows have huge bank accounts and a pack of minions to do their bidding. I had none of those things. I decided to just say NO and embrace my mediocrity. It actually cost me some friendships. Former friends didn't feel comfortable sitting next to me in my slightly rumpled outfits as I sipped boxed wine. Frankly, I don't miss them. My kids eat Kraft Dinner, drink Kool Aid, sleep on mismatched sheets, watch questionable movies and I think their turning out pretty good.

So there ya go. Now that the introductions are over I can begin to rant about all things that frost my pickle. The list is long and varied. I hope you enjoy.