Household Cleaning and Organizing Done Right

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.

First World Problems of a SAHM

First World Problems Of A Stay At Home Mom

• I woke up 2 hrs before the kids. I wasted quality sleep.
• I’m out of caffeine.
• The children expect to be fed at least 3 times a day.

• I am running late for something, as usual.
• WHERE IS YOUR OTHER SHOE?!
• I can’t find the DVR remote. How am I going to do anything if I don’t have SpongeBob on demand to occupy the children?
• The baby took off her diaper in her crib at nap time. She had pooped.
• Laundry

• I just poured the kids’ cereal, only to discover that I’m out of milk.
• I have to go grocery shopping…with the children.
• Another toy is clogging the toilet, yet someone pooped in it anyway.
• I woke up later than the toddlers. They found my craft drawer.
• Why must I listen to the kids fight over which one gets which color cup?!
• The baby is poopy. DAMN IT! I’m out of diapers.
• The parents in McDonald’s play area keep trying to talk to me about their kids.

• I forgot to lay out dinner.
• Hubby didn’t take out the trash. It’s full and the trash can is by the road.
• Someone colored on my couch.
• My corkscrew is missing.
• There is nothing interesting to read on the interwebz.

• I have a stomach virus.
• The children have a stomach virus.
• I’m out of wine.
• The kids finally learned to open the doors on their own.
• Baby gates are no longer effective.

(These are not necessarily all mine. I compiled the list from other SAHMs, as well.)

Tell me yours and I might add them to the list!

*Disclaimer: I am very well aware that I did not create the “First World Problems” meme. Not claiming to, either. There are a lot of FWP of SAHM posts out there. Just clarifying.

Another random thought: Sometimes, a little sexism is okay with me!

This is regarding me, and me alone. Whatever you want to do with your life, I support your right to do it regardless of whether it’s a stereotypical man-thing, or stereotypical woman-thing.

Just now, while on my way to pick up my daughter from school, I drove past some road construction workers. I thought, “What a miserable job! It is too damned hot for all that!” Then, there were the guys working on the power lines. Again, miserable job. I understand that, while men hold the majority of these jobs, women do these jobs as well! What I don’t understand is..why? Why would ANYONE want to work in a profession that requires subjecting oneself to extreme weather?? I know people don’t always us choose it, it’s necessary. I’m referring specifically to those that are wanting to ensure that they have the right to burst into flames while working on a power line. Right now, I’m sitting in the pick-up line, air conditioner on, trying to type this before I melt. People want to work hard, doing manual labor in this stuff?

You know what other stereotypical man things I don’t like doing? Taking out the trash. Killing bugs (I’ve blogged about these twice now, I really hate them!). I even try to push the “but driving is the MAN’s job” on to my husband sometimes. That never works..instead, the non-driver is the one that makes it to the liquor cabinet first. This is why women should always go first in things, too..like ordering at restaurants first. “I’ll have a margarita on the rocks..double. Oh, by the way, husband, you are driving home tonight, right?”

Anyway, back on track..plumbing–another male dominated field. I’d like to meet the woman that complains about losing out on that job to a man. I’d shake her and ask, “Woman! What is wrong with you?! Have you ever smelled SHIT?!” I can use a plunger when my children have had too much milk or tossed a toy in the toilet, but that’s MY toilet. Others’ toilets? Um, gross.

I dream of a day where washing dishes is “a MAN’s job!”

Another thing..I like being prettied up and dressing like a typical female. I’m not trying to be a man. Facial hair is going to be enough of a bitch when I get older, I’m sure–considering my black hair and all.

I guess what I’m saying is..I don’t fight for the right to stab my eyes out of my head or slam my fingers in the car door repeatedly. I don’t get how it even crosses one’s mind to fight for certain rights. The day I start fighting for my right to use a urinal..is the day you can punch me in the face and call me a douchebag. Sometimes, a little sexism is okay with me!

I don’t kiss his ass..

I’m writing this really late. Forgive typos, run-ons, or shit that just doesn’t make sense. I’ll clean it up tomorrow!

Today, I have decided to address some things regarding military wives. I don’t say too much about being a military wife..because I am my own person. I know, I know–my name refers to me being a housewife, so why not military wife? Because, overall, I mostly write about being a housewife. And that brings me to the first thing Id like to address!

**These may be true for many, but I doubt it’s true for most. I’m speaking for those of us that are quietly loving military men.**

• Military wives sit at home on their asses all day.

Well, I do..sometimes. Most times these days, I am up and doing something from 6am until 11pm. Yeah, so..um.. you can F off if you think I sit on my ass all day, everyday. I could get a job if I wanted to, but being home with my children as long as possible is more important to me. Besides, I intend on starting school again in January. Plenty of non-mil wives stay at home with their children too. It isn’t exclusive to a specific group of women. Also, many women stay home because they move a lot. It is hard to move up very high on the totem pole when you move every few years.

• We are all fat, lazy slobs.

Speak for yourself. I am within my healthy weight range, I have big and fake boobs, and I only go to Wal-Mart in sweat pants every other time I go. Yeah, suck on that. I haven’t even seen many fat wives around here. I’m sure there are plenty, but–at this base at least–there aren’t anymore than there are in other groups.

• We also dress up to go to the commissary and judge those who don’t. We are representing our husbands out there!!

Wait.. what?!? I thought we were fat, lazy slobs? Now, I admit that I have seen plenty of these types out and about. They are typically rank wearers & I’ll get to those later..

• We are popping out kids left and right.

I don’t know about the majority of the military couples, but we have 2 kids. I thought that was pretty much the norm? We did consider the benefits of Tricare when it came to our decision about more children. Tricare doesn’t just cover birth, it also covers VASECTOMIES..and female birth control. I am done, done. We have insurance.. I do NOT have a death wish. Even if another pregnancy wouldn’t kill me, I’d still be done. The cost of birth is not the only factor in the decision to have a child. All of the couples I know have a normal amount of children.

• I want a trophy for being a military wife. After all, it is the toughest job EV-AR.

I mean, if you really want to give me one..but, I’d prefer a crown. You could actually just give me the cash. Really though, no, we do not all expect people to kiss our asses for being military wives. It is not the toughest job in the world. It isn’t a job. Sure, I support my husband in his work. Isn’t that what spouses do? Support each other? Do you get sad when your spouse is gone? I do! It isn’t because he is military, it is because he is my husband. He is also put in dangerous situations. However, I am not in a dangerous situation, not that kind anyway. He is the one who has it HARD. I have it.. sad. Also, not all of us get irritable when people complain about missing their spouses because they are working a little late. It isn’t a competition. I spent the majority of the first 2 years of my marriage away from my husband, and I still get sad when he comes home from work too late. Other people’s problems do not become petty to me.

• Military wives kiss their husbands’ asses, because they have the second hardest job in the whole wide world!!

My husband is awesome. He goes to work everyday and bitches about it only at a reasonable level. He provides for his family because he loves us. Still, he has responsibilities at home, too. Being a member of the USAF doesn’t mean you are excluded from lifting a finger at home. I don’t kiss his ass… I’m not that freaky. Hubby washes his own uniform, he cooks sometimes, he even cleans up after himself on rare occasions. Bug needs killed? Hubby kills it. Trash day? Hubby takes it out. Nine times out of 10, I’m the one needing a massage. And I get that massage.

• Our husbands’ ranks are how we define ourselves and others.

What?! No! I do not wear my husband’s rank. I didn’t earn it and, to the bitches who think you are special because your husband is a what-the-f-ever he is, you didn’t do anything to earn that rank either. Blowing him doesn’t count.

• We all screw our husbands’ best friends during long deployments. All the good wives do. The friends are just being GOOD friends & helping us out, like our husbands asked.

Nah, not all of us. But, uh, thanks for that, Hollywood…and whores!

Some afterthoughts:

No, it isn’t hard to be married to a military man. It’s hard to be married to me. Really though, it’s marriage. It all takes work.

Sure, the lack of..ahem..”intimacy” during deployments, TDYs, and whatnot is a bummer, but it doesn’t ruin a marriage. I didn’t need to “get down to bidness” to fall in love & don’t need to in order to stay in love. The women who cheat on their deployed husbands and husbands who cheat on their deployed wives (or spouses that cheat while they are the ones deployed) are shitty people. They are the same people who would be sluttin’ it up outside the marriage with the pool boy or “working late” if they had/had spouses with civilian jobs. Deployments do not drive people to cheat. Whorie’ness does.

I’m not downplaying the role of the military spouse. We go through a lot of heartache and pain..and we sacrifice a lot. However, I guarantee that 99% of us make those sacrifices for love, not a trophy. Not all of us feel some sense of entitlement for dealing with long separations.

I do appreciate the gratitude others express, but no one has to thank me for loving my husband.

Why bother?!

I cleaned the living room spotless. I cleaned the kitchen..spotless. Now, I just stand around with that “the f*#k?!?!” look on my face. I actually cleaned the kitchen yesterday. Like, yesterday evening. Sometimes, I think I must be stupid. I can’t think of anything else I would fix over and over and over again, knowing it will be destroyed moments later.

My children have this strange quirk..they have to destroy everything in sight. A clean house just means they get to start all over again. My hubby has a bad habit of setting shit down wherever he is standing. I need freaking order!! Organization! I need things to have a place. Why do I even bother? I’d, obviously, be a much better housewife if I didn’t have to clean up after everyone.

(found on Views from the Couch)

You know, I love Angry Birds. I mean, who doesn’t? Someone should really make a game for me: Angry Housewives. You would throw things like vacuums and brooms at little cartoon men and children. Each time you peg one, your house gets cleaner. I’d play the shit out of that. I’d play the game rather than actually cleaning the house. Win-win for me! I hope it goes without saying that I’d never throw brooms or vacuums..well, I’d never actually throw vacuums at my children or husband. I’d never throw birds at pigs either.

Okay, enough random thoughts. I think my anger has subsided enough that the stupid has set back in & I’m considering cleaning again.

I can’t blog about it.

My Sugar Boog started school yesterday. If I try to blog about it, it wont be humorous and will only make me bawl my eyes out. I can, however, tell you the funniest part of the day.

While walking down the hall, taking Sugar to her room, I made her hold my hand and The Samurai hold her hand. I was already late because I decided to wash her carseat cover and, well, forgot to put it back on. So, I’m practically dragging the kids along in a panicky, upset frenzy. A group of 1st or 2nd graders walk by and start laughing. I think nothing of it. They are children, they laugh and cut up. Then, coming from behind me, I hear it. The Samurai yells, “Aw!!! My pants fell down!” Not quite processing what he said, I keep walking and just glance behind me at the caboose of the train I have going on.. I find my son walking like a penguin, with his shorts around his ankles. I had forgotten to make use of his adjustable waist band. /facepalm

I will also say that Sugar Boog had a wonderful day. She loved it. Dropping her off sucked, but it was harder on me than her.

Though lacking the fine details, I suppose I did blog about her first day… great for her, sucked for me, but had a good laugh in all of it.

Busy Bitches’ Cookbook (AKA Lazy Bitches’ Cookbook)

[It took me forever to complete this post. I’m only sorry that I was actually busy enough to not be able to finish it in a timely manner ;-).]
I think I might make this a series–Busy Bitches Cookbook. You could also call it Lazy Bitches Cookbook, but I have a reputation to uphold! <<hahaHAAA, kidding. The recipes in this (possible) series are shit I cook when I don’t have the time to cook, when I just plain don’t feel like standing in a hot damned kitchen all day, or when I am just having yet another lazy day! Today’s recipe is going to be Chicken’n’Dumplings.
Be aware that I do not measure. That would totally take away from the simplicity. It’s unnecessary. Oh, and it sounds like more work than it is, actually. I make this for lunch occasionally, and the Lord and my Fry Daddy know I do not like to spend time cooking lunch.

Ingredients

Bisquick

 Canned Biscuits and/or Croissants (biscuits turn out better)

Equivalent to Country Crock (or real butter, if you give a shit–I don’t)

Chicken Broth 

Salt

Pepper

and

 Frozen Chicken Tenderloins (preferred, but I was out)

or

Frozen Boneless, skinless Chicken Breasts

Add some Garlic Powder to the broth, if you feel like getting crazy with it (not pictured, but I think you can figure it out).

Put chicken in the pan with some oil as pictured above. Oh yeah, you need olive or vegetable oil.. Crisco even, I don’t  care. Turn on medium. Cover with lid. Cook until it is done, flipping once. Let it cook while you work on the dumplings.

Put some chicken broth in a pot.

Add a little salt and pepper to the broth.

Toss in some butter.

Boil that shit. Sit down, have some wine, whatevs. Shit might take a while.

“A watched pot never boils.”

I don’t know who came up with that, but I have a few things to say about it. One, he/she obviously didn’t stand and stare long enough. Dumbass. Two, I would like to thank that person for that excuse to sit my ass down for a minute.

Get the Bisquick or flour..

Put it in a bowl.

Coat your canned biscuits or croissants in the Bisquick.

Pinch pieces off and put them in the boiling broth. If the pieces are too big, no problem. Well, if you don’t own any forks or knives and your dumplings somehow come out really hard, then it might be a problem. When all pieces/dumplings are dropped in, immediately turn down to low heat and simmer/

Let them simmer for about 10 minutes.

Add chicken to the pot.

Cover with lid and let simmer for another 10 minutes, and you are done-zo.

Next, I’ll be covering the Busy Bitches’ recipe for homemade chicken fingers OR the Lazy Bitches’ guide to good pizza. We’ll see what kind of week it is, first!

Coming up!

As soon as I can get organized and shiz, I will possibly start a new series of posts (randomly mixed in with regular posts). I say possibly because I’m ADhD as hell and rarely follow through with anything. I’m lucky I still remember to post on this every now and then. Anyway, you might be able to look forward to Busy Bitches Cookbook (AKA Lazy Bitches Cookbook), but dont hold your breath. I only have one post slightly prepared and no idea what to add to it outside of one or 2 non-original recipes. Everything else is frozen. I really should have thought this through more. F it, it will be a short series.

Ahhhh!!! Why is she a vampire?!?!!1!1!!eleventy!

I have a 4 year old daughter, my little Sugar-booger, and a 3 year old son, my little Samarai (he’s a Power Rangers fan, big time). They are visiting their grandparents while hubby and I turn this:

into this:

They stayed with my parents for a bit, then went to my in-laws’ for a bit. After the swap today, my mom called to tell me about one of their most embarrassing moments ever, courtesy of my daughter. I’m going to try to remember this the best I can, I was laughing hysterically while listening…

My parents took the kiddos to McDonald’s to play while they waited on my husband’s parents. My little missy Sugar-Boog found another little girl to play with her. They stood, talking, as my mom watched. As she’s watching, the girls start messing with their mouths. The other little girl opens her mouth to reveal the fact that she is missing her four front teeth (yeah, I don’t know how she lost all four either /shrug). My child, bless her heart, takes off running and screaming, “She’s a vampire!!! ahh! Why is she a vampire??!!”. Over. And. Over.
Shit.

My parents try to calm her down, but she sat at the table with her head down crying, demanding to know why the girl was a vampire. The Samarai is yelling, “I’ll protect you! I’m gonna throw somethin’ at that vampire if she comes over here again!” Awesome. The little girl comes over to see what’s wrong, trying to talk and play, only inducing more wailing. My parents are all, “Nooo! Look, she’s a sweet girl. She’s so sweet and pretty, see?” She didn’t see. Now, if I could find the parents and little girl, I’d apologize profusely for that one time when Sugar-Boog woke up and snuck in the living room while we were watching True Blood. I feel terrible for the little girl, but I feel bad for my baby also. Can you imagine being 4 years old and thinking you are in the same play area as a vampire-child? shudder

Anyway, it gets better..well, not really, just funnier. My mom and dad try to explain that the little girl lost her teeth. They tell her that everyone loses teeth and, one day, Sugar will lose hers too. Sounds like a reasonable explanation, right? What else could they say? That’s not what my child heard. Anyone want to guess what she heard? Anyone? Bueller?

“One day, you are going to be a vampire too!”

/facepalm
Her reaction to that led to them feeling the need to LEAVE, immediately.

I almost wish I could have been there for that!

10 Reasons I Love My Interwebz Friends

I was inspired to write this about 2 weeks ago, but wanted to wait until I was totally sure that no one was watching me from outside one of my windows. I think the coast is clear, so here goes..oh, and a little help from someecards.

10 Reasons I Love My Interwebz Friends

1.) Interwebz friends aren’t clingy. They can’t be! You just use the “go offline” option on whatever messenger, message board, or whatever they are using to contact you.

2.) They don’t force get togethers on you by making it awkward to say no. They usually live too far away.

3.) They don’t declare that you are their BFF the day you meet them & immediately start calling and texting non-stop.

4.) When you find out interwebz friends are crazy, you don’t have to figure out how to cut them out of your life without worrying about running into them when out. X marks the spot, click it.

5.) They don’t con you into buying them things. You can pretend you didn’t see that email.

6.) They don’t ask you to buy them things using your CREDIT CARD.

7.) They don’t ask you for your medications. That would be insane. Refer back to number 4.

8.) Interwebz friends don’t call YOU after getting caught up in a sticky situation, asking for help and requesting you keep your mouth shut about it, even to your own husband. (Previously, too much info was posted)

9.) They don’t just drop by your house if you don’t answer your phone.

10.) If an interwebz friend DOES, in fact, do any of these things…again, you can use that little X or just completely turn off your monitor. The end!