Young Love: Confessions Of A Broken Housewife

19 Dec

We’ve all been there..young and in love. We think, “This is it. This is going to last FOREVER.” We are so ready to grow up and start a family. I’m here to tell you, it’s not that glamorous. Also, it doesn’t always last forever. I wouldn’t trade my kids for the world, but if I could go back and have them later in life, I would. They would more than deserve it.

When I was 16, I met The Ex. He was The BFF’s boyfriend. We all went out to shop one day and, when we returned,  The BFF decided he was too shy for her. I told her he was nice and she should give him a shot. She promptly handed over his number and said, “If you like him, then YOU CALL HIM!” When he called her later, she handed me the phone. We became good friends. Right before my 17th birthday, he became my boyfriend. I will never forgive The BFF for that. (just kidding)

Our rocky, on/off high school relationship ended for a good 4 months right before graduation. I graduated and moved to Baton Rouge with a good friend for about a month, moved back, started nursing school, and was working full time at a dry cleaning place. I eventually reunited with The Ex, moved in, and decided I was in love. “This is it. This is going to last FOREVER.” Before I knew it, I was 20 years old, pregnant, unemployed, and had long quit nursing school.

Now, I’m 26, going through a dirty divorce, 2 kids, unemployed, and no degree to fall back on.

My advice?
*Stay in school. Finish college.
*Find a good job. Keep it.
*Birth Control. Children are wonderful. Have them later.
*DEPEND ON NO ONE BUT YOURSELF. The longer you wait to do it, the harder it gets.

As it turns out, Domestic Goddess doesn’t really have a spot on resumes.

And when you meet that guy that thinks you are beautiful with no makeup on, pushes your hair back out of your face so he can look you in the eyes, kisses your forehead, sends you “Good morning, beautiful.” texts, and does all the other things facebook quotes tell you guys should do, do me a favor:

Look deeply into his eyes, smile..then punch him in that pretty face and yell, “LIES!” Then go do your homework.

Household Cleaning and Organizing Done Right

14 Dec

People ask me all the time,

“L, what are your best house cleaning tips?”

Just kidding. No one asks me that. Ever. But I have the best kept house cleaning/organizing secrets ever. I’m going to share them with you today!

First, ask yourself, “Who makes the most messes around here? Husband or kids?” There are very different guidelines for each.


If you answered “kids”:


This one is more difficult than dealing with a hoarding, messy husband, but there are more options.

*You can try chore charts to teach responsibility. Have your kids put each toy or activity away before they are allowed to get out something else, clear their own plates, make their own beds..shit like that.


*Allowances work wonders. Reward the good behavior.

*Confine them to one small area of the house, preferably near a bathroom. Less area to clean & you have the rest of the house to yourself.


*Last, if all other options fail, check out your state’s Safe Haven Law. I think there are usually age limits, but I’m pretty sure those are just a suggestion. You will need to first convince your children that your full name is Mommy McMommerson. Tell them you are going to visit the firetrucks! It will be fun!

If you answered “husband”:


This one is so easy! I like to call it The D.I.V.O.R.C.E Method.

*D is for, well, Divorce.
*I is for dIvorce.
*V is for diVorce.
*O is for divOrce.
*R is for divoRce.
*C is for divorCe.
*E is for divorcE.

I don’t know why this isn’t more widely known as an effective method. It makes such a HUGE difference. You know that saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks”? Likewise, you can’t teach an old bastard to stop being a fucking pig.


I was an amazing housewife, truth be told. I clean a little, cook a little, and copulate a lot. I will not, however, be your mama. Put your dirty laundry in the laundry basket. Put your dirty dishes in the sink. Remember that thing you empty once a week, only because I killed you twice with my death glare when it overflowed? It’s called a trashcan. Put your damn trash in it.

Booooooom! Clean house.

*Disclaimer: Calm your tits. I do not actually advocate dropping your kids off at the fire station unless it’s necessary for their safety. The rest of this post is spot on. Trust me.

Am I Being Punk’d?

5 Dec

*Disclaimer: I’m writing this from my phone. My screen is cracked and extra punctuation is going to happen. This is not a typical post, it’s more of an explanation.*

It’s been a while, but I can explain..

I’m getting divorced.

Remember this post? Yeah, I’d just found out Hubby–who will be referred to as “The Ex” from this point on– had screwed my crazy crackhead neighbor. He didn’t “screw her over” or “screw together some furniture for her”. No, he straight up screwed her, baby makin’ style.

After almost 8 months of trying to work it out, other issues (with him) crept up. I realized I had never forgiven him for the affair, I was still bitter..resentful, and just not “in love”. Considering he called me a “cry baby” in February for not already being over it, we REALLY weren’t doing too well when I wasn’t over it 6 more months later. His new issues were too much and I was tired of trying to piece together something that had been FUBAR’d for months.

So, yeah, that’s where I’ve been. I didn’t quit writing for lack of material (he’s given me SO MUCH). I didn’t quit because I’ve been wallowing around in.self-pity. Trust me, I don’t need sympathy. I’m better than I’ve been in 10 years. No shit, my face is even clearing up. It’s just that– I’m still waiting on Ashton Kutcher to pop out and tell me that I’m being Punk’d. Not over the affair, but over the divorce filing aftermath. It’s been insane. I could legit be on Jerry.

In August, The Ex moved out. He begged me to hold off filing until he had more time to process what was happening. Somehow, even with my months of unhappiness, his numerous fuck-ups, and me admitting that I wasn’t in love with him, this was a huge surprise to him. HUGE. After he HACKED MY FACEBOOK and told everyone what he’d done, admitting to snooping through my things to see if I’d cheated (I’ve never in my life cheated and never will, not after having been through it myself), and begged me to take him back, I knew I was DONE-done. I know his intent was to apologize, but–you know–nothing says “I love you” like hacking a facebook, snooping, and humiliating your wife. Hellllo? I hadn’t told people what was going on FOR A REASON. Either way, out of pity, I decided to give him until the following Monday. Friday morning, I was served divorce papers. He was divorcing ME. Okay, that’s fine…on what grounds? Well, because I’m crazy. OF COURSE. Why else would I have stayed married so long?! I did see a psychiatrist for the ADHD and, after the affair, when my anxiety got bad again. Luckily, he was nice enough to write a letter stating that I was not insane.

All through September, I got calls and texts begging me to give him another chance. I didn’t respond. So, he took to harassing friends and family and spreading viscous rumors. More begging to take him back. Really?! Did you even READ the divorce papers you filed? Did you HEAR the things you were telling people as they came out of your mouth? Are you drunk? High? Probably. Probably both. Who knows, really.. Either way, NO! Just…no.

October comes and, suddenly, the calls stop. He isn’t calling the kids either. Toward the end of the month, I was in a wedding. I stayed at my grandmother’s so she could help babysit and so I would be closer to the chapel. While there, I brought all mine and kids’ clothing to do laundry. I had pretty much lived out of my car over the weekend out of fear that I would forget something for the wedding. After the wedding, I didn’t unload the car. I was too tired. While I was in bed, The Ex came and stole the car. Allllllll our stuff, including the carseats, were in there.

Early November, I got several calls that a female “friend” of his was driving my car around. Bitch was DRIVING. MY. CAR. Word was, they’d been seeing each other since early October..when the calls stopped. Let me make this crystal clear: I legit PRAYED that he would find a girlfriend. I had no issue with that. I wanted him to find someone else to obsess over, anyone but me. I was over it. Mid-November, we went to court. The car was to be returned back to me the following weekend.

Here it is, first week of December, and still no car. Supposedly, the girlfriend took my car and ran off with her ex. Fantastic. Fan. Fucking. Tastic.

So, there is the drahmz. It doesn’t take up quite as much of my life as you would think. I struggled a lot in the beginning, but not so much anymore. I made a decision a few months ago:  I’m 26–a lot of life left, and I will keep nothing short of AMAZING people in my life from now on. I have some pretty amazing people in my life that make me far happier than he makes me miserable.

If we have a good relationship (friend, family, or otherwise) of some sort now or in the future, rest assured that I fucking love you and your presence. If you start sucking, you are out. GONE. Ain’t nobody got time fa dat! I’m not wasting anymore time on being miserable. 10 years was long enough.

If you, by chance, wonder if I will change the name of this..maybe. Maybe NEXT YEAR. This bitch is paid up until July!

IT’S FOR THE CHILLLDDDRREENNN!! No, really, it’s for a child..a family, really.

15 Jul

The Hogelands (a family in my hometown) were adopting 2 HIV+ girls. They raised the funds to go the first time with intentions of bringing both home, but due to a change in the country’s laws at the very last minute, they were forced to leave one behind. Their other daughter, “V”, had to watch her mama and sister leave without her. They are now having to start back over at square one to raise the funds to go BACK and get V. If you can help, please do. If you cannot, then just–PLEASE–share so that someone else can. They are running short on time. Please and thank you.



From Kate Hogeland’s blog:

“If you have followed our family’s journey you will know that this is not where we expected to be right now.  My  husband and I went to Eastern Europe to adopt two little girls. In the midst of the process the country we were going to changed their laws.  Children under 5 could no longer be adopted internationally unless they have certain special needs.  Our little ones have HIV, but this is not considered a special need.

We waited and waited hoping the law would be changed to include HIV. However, eventually we had to go ahead and go over for one of our girls because our dossier was expiring and she was aging out of her orphanage soon.  So we went in January of 2012 still hoping that while we were in country the law would be changed.

It wasn’t.

So we got to meet our other little one which was wonderful and excruciating.  She is precious and beautiful and sweet.  We couldn’t spend much time with her but we did see her a good bit.  We watched her preform in a Christmas program.  Several times she held my hand.  On many occasions she brought me her coat and shoes and would say, “Mama, help?”  When we finally walked out of the orphanage with our daughter Eva Marina, “V” stood at the top of the stairs and watched us walk out.  Seeing her up there, and leaving her behind made an emotional day almost more than I could handle.

Our girls are not blood relatives, but they were in the same groupa and were good friends.  Eva Marina has asked about V several times.  She loves to look at her pictures.  It would be so amazing for both of them to get to grow up together.

We knew we would go back for V.  The hard part is starting over so soon after coming home.  And the cost of adopting 2 kids at once is not much more than 1, but now we start almost all over.  Some costs will be less, but we start fundraising all over again.  But now, we have a newly adopted daughter at home who doesn’t do well with too much stimulation and can’t be left for hours on end.

I raised several thousand dollars doing hair cuts last time. I would work for 8 hours a day doing cuts non stop.  Now I can not do that.  Planning events to raise funds has also proved difficult while in the adjustment with our newest little one.  I just can’t find time for everything I need to do.

I am almost paralyzed with fear about the daunting financial aspect of doing this again.  But V is worth it.  I have Hope.  I am terrified but moving forward.

So, here we go again. I hope you will join us on our journey back to our other precious child!”

I mean, REALLY, how can you not share?

Oh, The SHAME!

14 Jun


This photo is going around right now and, not surprisingly, many are calling it abuse. Mental abuse. Humiliating, yes, but..abuse? Ehh…

What say you good people out there? Is this mental abuse? What is your opinion on this type of discipline, in general?

Here is my comment on the post on’s Facebook (plus a little more detail), summing up my opinion:

I can’t believe this is seriously being dubbed as abuse by some people. That’s laughable, at best. I got caught at a party when I was 15. My dad carried me and my best friend out over his shoulders. I was forever known as “the girl whose dad busted up the Hope Lake party”. It was humiliating! HOWEVER:

1.) Nothing my parents did led me to that party. I lied and left a football game to go. Peer pressure led me there.

2.) I didn’t lose respect for my parents. I still trusted them, though I was temporarily (very) angry. I understood even then WHY they did what they did.

3.) I learned a valuable lesson: don’t sneak off to parties, I will get caught. It wasn’t my last party, but it definitely slowed me down.

4.) To compare being humiliated for making a stupid choice to being abused HAS TO BE a serious slap in the face to anyone who has ever been mentally abused. My parents were not abusive and, in my opinion, neither is this mother.

5.) My parents are wonderful, amazing people. I love them and respect them. I have never feared them, but I did expect to be appropriately punished for things I did wrong. At 26, my mom is NOW my best friend. I thank God she didn’t try to be my BFF back then.

According to one reader, the mom said this in response:

“Some said the public humiliation would have long-term effects, that she would hate me forever for this. You have to know your child. I wouldn’t do this on my middle child because I don’t think she can emotionally handle it. But this one, she’ll be just fine. Yes, I got the ‘you’re ruining my life’ rant, but after a few hours, she was trying to figure out how she can start an organization at her school to raise awareness about social media responsibility.”

Your thoughts?

Cue Panic, Chaos, Confusion

31 May

Last I noticed, the kids were holding hands and dancing in the kitchen, directly in front of my open door. Unbeknownst to me, while I was Facebooking, the son acquired a screwdriver (Stop it. I know you are judging me. Stop.). Next thing I know, son runs toward something and stabs it. After a loud popping sound, Sugar screams, “You stabbed a hole in it!!” I see a cloud of something that looks like smoke…maybe aerosol something or other being sprayed. I jump up and run towards the cloud, screaming, “Get away from it! GET AWAAAYYY FROM ITTTT!!!! “…I don’t know what, exactly, I think is about to happen. Surely, it’s going to explode or something. The kids are inhaling toxic fumes of a substance not-yet identified!! It’s probably blinding them right now! Oh, GOD! It’s going to EXXXPPLLOOODDDEEE! RUN!!!!

So, as I approach the exploding aerosol can of toxic substance, I nearly bust my ass and get sprayed in the face by this stuff! I’m going to be blind, too! We’re all going to be BLIIINNNDD! I finally see the bottle of the deadly, blinding gas…


















It’s sprite.

“The Look”–I Have More Than One

31 May

I am a woman of many talents. Communicating With A Look/Glare is one of them.

The Mom Look:

My kids know The Mom Look. When they are doing something they aren’t supposed to, I give them The Mom Look and they stop. I don’t use this nearly enough. I forget how effective it is until I use it and realize that I have just accomplished everything I needed to, but without the yelling or threats of stringing my little angels up in a tree by their toenails.

The “Stop Talking Before You Say Something You Can’t Take Back” Look:

My husband ought to know this look fairly well. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Hubby sometimes starts down a long, dark road of well-meaning criticism (he thinks he is “helping me”) that usually just comes out sounding like insult after insult. This look usually informs him that I am not pleased with him and he is not being helpful.

The “Are You That F’ing Stupid?!” Look:

Often given to people in public places, this is an obvious, exaggerated look. I have tried to hide my expression, on occasion, to keep from offending anyone…but I am not very good at it. I’ve caught a glimpse of myself giving the look to a woman in a bathroom and realized then that there was no mistaking it–she knew exactly what my face was asking, “Are you that f’ing stupid?” She brought her male child into the women’s restroom and ripped his pants down in front of me and my children, so she could practically BEAT his bare bottom. I won’t get into a spanking debate, but come on. Take it to the stall, at least. Humiliation is a terrible form of punishment.

The “If Looks Could Kill” Look:

My husband has seen it a few times. Honestly, it’s a good thing looks CANNOT kill, because I have given it to quite a few people, whom I really do love dearly. Most recently, 2 strangers got to see it. The first: A man at Target, allowing his child to spank and yell at his toddler, as if the child were the parent. I gave him the look, combined with the Are You That F’ing Stupid look.. at close range. I just stopped, stood there, and glared until he was fully aware my glaring and decided to take his cart and walk away.

The second man: A man in Flash Foods.. Hubby sometimes brings home scratch off tickets. We usually keep the winning tickets until we need the money. Recently, I went out of town to visit my family. On my way out, I decided to cash in the tickets for gas and vacation money. It was only $125 worth of them, but still.. So, I hand the cashier the tickets, he scans them, and THEN informs me that he will only be able to give me $50 in cash, the rest will have to go on a money order. Um, no thanks, give me the tickets back and I’ll take them elsewhere. He can’t.. he has already scanned them in and they are no longer valid. Excuse me? Shouldn’t I have been informed that the policy at this particular store was $50 cash only? The cashier is new, he didn’t know. “Well, that isn’t my fault. I should have been informed. I don’t have a physical bank to use to cash a money order, I have USAA..” The manager? “Well, it’s not MY fault that you decided to come here to cash them.” Death glare x200. I also caused a huge scene and had there been children present (there were not), they would have probably been scarred after hearing the things that came out of my mouth. It wasn’t pretty.

I also have the “I’m Completely Uninterested In What You Are Saying” Look, the “Don’t Even Think About It” Look, and the “PLEASE, For Me?” Look.

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