On Sunday, I woke and started cleaning, washed all the linens, prepared for the week, and played with my daughter. I made a huge dent in Mt. DirtyClothes and even hung my curtains in my bedroom.
On Monday, I got up and started my morning routine. I had left my clothes on the ironing board and my hubby had ironed them. I loaded up the car, woke up the kid, dressed and started my 45 minute commute sans the DVD player that was left in my hubby’s car.
My phone rings. It was hubby checking in making sure I was up and moving on Monday. As we are getting off the phone he adds, “By the way, YOUR WELCOME.”
I immediately spit back “For what?” He answers “I iiiirrrroooonnnneeeddd your clothes this morning”.
Livid does not begin to describe my initial emotional reaction. What about all my Thanks You’s? What about thanking me for making sure there is food in the fridge every night, or a thanks for clean clothes, making the bed every morning, picking up Addie so he can go and play volleyball? What about my thank you for loading and unloading the dishwasher, ironing his uniforms, and making sure we stay stocked with the necessities of life like toilet paper, diapers, and fudgesicles? I let my anger grow and grow. I was planning on a full domestic strike. (Let the bathroom funk build up until it was completely unsanitary, pile the dishes in the sink, let Mt. DirtyClothes build up until you could no longer access the laundry room.)
Then something happened. I thought how nice it would be if someone did tell me they appreciated all the small stuff I do everyday. Not only at home, but at work, and in play activities. Yet, I do not always thank people. Do I think I am entitled to certain things? I should thank people. I was mad at my husband because he wanted recognition….that is all I wanted too, but instead of asking for it I was letting it breed hostility and anger inside of me. So I decided to start thanking people. Honestly thanking them. I will thank me husband for all the small things he does and hopefully it will be contagious. If not, I will probably be one of those women who “accidentally” runs over her husband four or five times.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Thursday, May 3, 2007
If At Fist You Do Not Suceed, Try and Try Again....
I have tried everything to get my life in working order. I tried to replicate Martha Stewart, then I dabbled in the philosophies of the Flylady, and presently I keep inviting myself over to my neighbors house so I can see how she manages to keep her home so pristine. Nothing works!
Martha Stewart is perfection (I am not referring to her as a human just to her home making skills). Her home is straight out of Pottery Barn, the food she serves is delectable, professional and delicious her mannerisms fit to entertain the Queen (I am assuming all this for I have never met her personally, seen her house nor eaten her food but I read her magazines and this is how I imagine it). I tried to mimic her perfection. My home did look like Pottery Barn....Post-Katrina; my food was burnt and often lacked taste for I could not find/afford all the spices she uses; and I just can not make small talk with people I have no interest in. So I decided that she was not my role-model mommy and I moved on.....
The Flylady was my next stop. Flylady says NO! to prefect ion and after torturing myself with the Martha Mayhem perfection was not on my top ten list. The Flylady taught me routine. Of course, with the obsessive compulsive disorder I inherited from stalking Martha, the routines became a little.....okay a HUGE burden. Everything had to be planned. If something did not go according to plan there was hell to pay. I thank God my daughter is too young to remember this dark period of my life but by husband still shutters every time he hears an egg timer. Finally, he ended my romance with routines by burning my Control Binder.
So, that was two-role models down and I was to the point where I convinced myself that every home in America was really in total disarray. Until I met me neighbor. Her house is spotless (eat off the floor clean) perfectly decorated, she works, she mothers, she even entertains...other adults. Her children are well behaved, her husband is charming and her floors contain not even one cheerio. I HAD to find out how she did it. So I became friends with her...to get close and find out her secret. My first thought was Crystal Meth (I saw a special on dateline that it is very common for suburban mothers to take Meth so they can get through the day). I ruled that out... she has perfect teeth. So then I decided that it must be Aderal. Like on Desperate Housewives. I checked her medicine cabinet.....accidentally, and could find no such substance...plus I guess her 18 month old is a little young for ADHD. She must have sold her soul to the devil then. This I can not refute with hard evidence but I just do not think this is the answer.
Finally, I asked her how she did it. She said she just does a little bit everyday. She tries to pick up after herself and she incorporates little time-saving cleaning tips into her daily routines. So that is what I am going to do to. I am going to get rid of the idea that perfection exists. I am going to through out the stringent routines and rely on what has gotten me this far.....luck!
Martha Stewart is perfection (I am not referring to her as a human just to her home making skills). Her home is straight out of Pottery Barn, the food she serves is delectable, professional and delicious her mannerisms fit to entertain the Queen (I am assuming all this for I have never met her personally, seen her house nor eaten her food but I read her magazines and this is how I imagine it). I tried to mimic her perfection. My home did look like Pottery Barn....Post-Katrina; my food was burnt and often lacked taste for I could not find/afford all the spices she uses; and I just can not make small talk with people I have no interest in. So I decided that she was not my role-model mommy and I moved on.....
The Flylady was my next stop. Flylady says NO! to prefect ion and after torturing myself with the Martha Mayhem perfection was not on my top ten list. The Flylady taught me routine. Of course, with the obsessive compulsive disorder I inherited from stalking Martha, the routines became a little.....okay a HUGE burden. Everything had to be planned. If something did not go according to plan there was hell to pay. I thank God my daughter is too young to remember this dark period of my life but by husband still shutters every time he hears an egg timer. Finally, he ended my romance with routines by burning my Control Binder.
So, that was two-role models down and I was to the point where I convinced myself that every home in America was really in total disarray. Until I met me neighbor. Her house is spotless (eat off the floor clean) perfectly decorated, she works, she mothers, she even entertains...other adults. Her children are well behaved, her husband is charming and her floors contain not even one cheerio. I HAD to find out how she did it. So I became friends with her...to get close and find out her secret. My first thought was Crystal Meth (I saw a special on dateline that it is very common for suburban mothers to take Meth so they can get through the day). I ruled that out... she has perfect teeth. So then I decided that it must be Aderal. Like on Desperate Housewives. I checked her medicine cabinet.....accidentally, and could find no such substance...plus I guess her 18 month old is a little young for ADHD. She must have sold her soul to the devil then. This I can not refute with hard evidence but I just do not think this is the answer.
Finally, I asked her how she did it. She said she just does a little bit everyday. She tries to pick up after herself and she incorporates little time-saving cleaning tips into her daily routines. So that is what I am going to do to. I am going to get rid of the idea that perfection exists. I am going to through out the stringent routines and rely on what has gotten me this far.....luck!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Make a wish....
Since today I am a quarter of a century old….I would have 25 candles on my cake. This means I have 25 wishes, which I listed below in no particular order (Please abstain from any comments on my wishes being selfish or self-serving….It is my birthday and I will wish what I want too!). 
- World Peace (See I am not totally self centered)
- For perfect, shampoo commercial hair
- For the hair on my legs to cease and assist (aka fall out and never return)
- A deodorant that really works ALL day and really DOES NOT leave white streaks all over my clothing.
- Comfortable, fashionable AND affordable shoes
- A dryer that dries and then folds and/or hangs clothes.
- A cure for cancer, AIDS, and stretch marks (okay, okay, I was just making sure you were paying attention. A cure for cancer and AIDS.)
- Men could get pregnant, have babies, and breast feed. Then I could say, “Your vacation, oh, I mean your maternity leave” and they would know what true homicidal rage feels like.
- A house that self cleans. You know, kind of like a self cleaning oven, but for the whole house.
- A mute button for people (this includes children and infants).
- The ability to fly
- For women to not be afraid of their bodies, regardless of its size, we are all beautiful!
- For my children to lead happy and prosperous lives.
- For my boobs to return to their pre-pregnancy position instead of continuing their descent to my knees.
- Calorie free, fat free, good for you, Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Ice Cream
- A driver, there is so much I could do on my commute if I did not have to worry about driving.
- A dishwasher that would load itself, wash the dishes and unload itself.
- A Starbucks in my kitchen, or at the very least a daily delivery service
- Stiffer legal penalties (maybe involving unconstitutional torture) for sexual abuse against children.
- An annual, national conference for Maya’s Mom, in which an Airline decides to donate tickets (it being such a worthy cause), a hotel decides to jump on a band wagon and dole out a free stay to all attendees, and to top it off spa’s compete to offer their free services. Now if you could only find a reliable babysitter!
- To save enough money so my kids do not have to take out student loans for college.
- That any parent who has ever lost a child has at least one moment of pure joy today.
- For flawless skin, no more creams, peels, or ointments. Just naturally perfect skin.
- Mandatory PAID maternity leave for a minimum of 9 months to a maximum of 18 months for all mothers and up to 6 months PAID paternity leave for Daddies!!!!!!
- That I never forget how lucky I am, to have a great husband whom I love and respect, to have a beautiful and intelligent daughter and a baby on the way. To always remain humble, and keep my sense of humor. And to live everyday like it may be my last!
Please do not tell anyone or they will not come true.
Monday, April 16, 2007
A sad day....
Today I can not post as a Domestic Darlin. Today I must post as a mom and only a mom.
http://www.mayasmom.com/journal/stella/18868/a_sad_day
For all those in Virgina who lost their lives today, for all the parents who lost a child, for all the friends and family who lost a loved one. You are in my prayers. I will not forget today. I will never forget the rage that came over me initally and then the fear, panic, and grief that followed.
http://www.mayasmom.com/journal/stella/18868/a_sad_day
For all those in Virgina who lost their lives today, for all the parents who lost a child, for all the friends and family who lost a loved one. You are in my prayers. I will not forget today. I will never forget the rage that came over me initally and then the fear, panic, and grief that followed.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Breakfast on the Go, hold the guilt
In this episode of I heart Wednesday I would like to introduce the non-familiar with Special K's Breakfast Bars. For 90 calories you can fill up on this tasty (sweet) treat in the car or on the go. 
I love them! I love them! I love them!
The Pink-Eye Epidemic is Over......Finally!
My Darling Little Daughter has been battling conjunctivitis (aka Pinkeye) for about a week. It did not affect her much except in the mornings when the crud would seal her eyes shut and I would have to pick the eye-boogers off so she could open them. The Doctor gave us some drops and the daycare but her in quarantine. (My sitter told me that after administering the drops for 24 hours Mini would no longer be contagious. This leads me to believe that Mini probably got pinkeye from one of the snot nosed kids at day care).
I moved sanitation measures in the house to levels that would shock the Broad of Health. Anti-bacterial soap was everywhere, we bathed in it, we ate it, we loved it. By the weekend, Mini had a little gunk in her eye and would occasionally itch her eye but I was expecting a full recovery. Everything was packed and ready to go in anticipation of Monday morning but there was something I could not have prepared for that plagued the Domestic Darlin's House for DAYS...
At around 2:30am on Monday morning I was rustled out of a coma by my husband. He was not laying in bed next to me where I had left him before I went to sleep, but standing next to the bed hoovering over me much like a small child.
"Does it look like I have Pink Eye?" he demanded. Well considering we were in a pitch black room and just moments before I was making out with Johnny Depp on a Pirate Ship, I spat him some foul retort rolled over and prayed that God would let me resume the dream where I had left off.
By 5 am, with Hubby snoring next to me, I figured he had decided to call in sick to work. I got up, got pretty and was headed out the door when I hear "Darlin, do you want me to get the baby ready for you?" Like he was doing ME a favor. I guess I had stupidly assumed that since he felt the need to stay home due to his "condition" he would at least keep the baby home too (as so I would not have to drive her 15 minutes to her daycare as well as transport her home). Hubby informed me that there was NO way he could stay home with her because he was "Visually Impaired" due to the Pinkeye.
He called the doctor and went on and on about the sheer misery he was in. I really believe it may have been touch and go for a while there. He held it together like a true man (wink!). Well as day two rolled around I assumed he would surely go into work. He did not even take off 2 days for his own grandfather's funeral. Hubby informed me that due to his "highly contagious" infliction there was no way he could "expose" all of his agents to the conjunctivitis. I informed him that if he was taking another day off he was keeping the little one. They had a lovely morning together and then my work phone started a ringing. Apparently the pinkeye had "gotten the best of him" and he was unable to "properly care for my kid" (please note he is the babies father...he uses the term my in these types of situations). So I had to rush home from work to play Florance Nightingale for my husband.
Upon arrival, he was huddled in the bed as if he had the flu, or mad-cow; so I took my precious angel and started cleaning the house. After a while I decided a snowball/swinging trip may be in order. I announced my plans, and just as Lazarus rose from the dead my husband was miraculously cured of the horrid conjunctivitis by the promise of a sweet treat. They really never do grow up.
When my 13 month old daughter had pink eye her condition was one pink eye, the side effect of her condition were extra eye boogers.
When my husband had pink eye his condition was Conjunctivitis, the side effects were headache, nausea, loss of appetite (except for the 7 lbs of crawfish he some how managed to "keep down") excessive whining, flu-like aches, exhaustion, irritability, visual distortions, bipolar disorder and severe PMS.
After a day home with our precious angel Hubby was off to work by 4 am this morning. I am glad the whole epidemic is behind us and no one was seriously injured (although Hubby is sporting a bruise from when he tried to compare his "Pinkeye" condition with my "Pregnancy Woes". I had to punish him and in that situation violence was the ONLY alternative).
I moved sanitation measures in the house to levels that would shock the Broad of Health. Anti-bacterial soap was everywhere, we bathed in it, we ate it, we loved it. By the weekend, Mini had a little gunk in her eye and would occasionally itch her eye but I was expecting a full recovery. Everything was packed and ready to go in anticipation of Monday morning but there was something I could not have prepared for that plagued the Domestic Darlin's House for DAYS...
At around 2:30am on Monday morning I was rustled out of a coma by my husband. He was not laying in bed next to me where I had left him before I went to sleep, but standing next to the bed hoovering over me much like a small child.
"Does it look like I have Pink Eye?" he demanded. Well considering we were in a pitch black room and just moments before I was making out with Johnny Depp on a Pirate Ship, I spat him some foul retort rolled over and prayed that God would let me resume the dream where I had left off.
By 5 am, with Hubby snoring next to me, I figured he had decided to call in sick to work. I got up, got pretty and was headed out the door when I hear "Darlin, do you want me to get the baby ready for you?" Like he was doing ME a favor. I guess I had stupidly assumed that since he felt the need to stay home due to his "condition" he would at least keep the baby home too (as so I would not have to drive her 15 minutes to her daycare as well as transport her home). Hubby informed me that there was NO way he could stay home with her because he was "Visually Impaired" due to the Pinkeye.
He called the doctor and went on and on about the sheer misery he was in. I really believe it may have been touch and go for a while there. He held it together like a true man (wink!). Well as day two rolled around I assumed he would surely go into work. He did not even take off 2 days for his own grandfather's funeral. Hubby informed me that due to his "highly contagious" infliction there was no way he could "expose" all of his agents to the conjunctivitis. I informed him that if he was taking another day off he was keeping the little one. They had a lovely morning together and then my work phone started a ringing. Apparently the pinkeye had "gotten the best of him" and he was unable to "properly care for my kid" (please note he is the babies father...he uses the term my in these types of situations). So I had to rush home from work to play Florance Nightingale for my husband.
Upon arrival, he was huddled in the bed as if he had the flu, or mad-cow; so I took my precious angel and started cleaning the house. After a while I decided a snowball/swinging trip may be in order. I announced my plans, and just as Lazarus rose from the dead my husband was miraculously cured of the horrid conjunctivitis by the promise of a sweet treat. They really never do grow up.
When my 13 month old daughter had pink eye her condition was one pink eye, the side effect of her condition were extra eye boogers.
When my husband had pink eye his condition was Conjunctivitis, the side effects were headache, nausea, loss of appetite (except for the 7 lbs of crawfish he some how managed to "keep down") excessive whining, flu-like aches, exhaustion, irritability, visual distortions, bipolar disorder and severe PMS.
After a day home with our precious angel Hubby was off to work by 4 am this morning. I am glad the whole epidemic is behind us and no one was seriously injured (although Hubby is sporting a bruise from when he tried to compare his "Pinkeye" condition with my "Pregnancy Woes". I had to punish him and in that situation violence was the ONLY alternative).
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Naked Babies, everywhere but mine is fully clothed.
Over the weekend my mother, my daughter and myself went to a lovely little Easter Craft Fair at a neighborhood park. This park is a favorite among local kids because of the water feature it houses for tons of family fun. As you can see from the pictures below, water shoots up from the ground at random intervals.
Well on Saturday the park was packed and there were at least 30 children, from infant to still cool enough to run around in a swim suit with little kids, crowded on the water feature. We stopped for a while to watch the kids play. My little one watched in amazement at the kids running around and screaming with delight. As we watched the children play I spotted a little girl running towards us. She stopped right in front of our stroller and quickly disrobed. She turned and ran back into the water spouts in nothing but her little panties, leaving her shorts and shirt abandoned on the sidelines. I watched her shriek with satisfaction for her her found freedom. Then I watched as she decided it would be in her best interest to go full monty. That's right she ran out of the spouts and tossed her underwear and ran totally naked and carefree back into the water. I guess this would be a good time to mention the little girl was maybe 4, but probably only 3. I scanned the crowd looking for a disgruntled parent, or at least an overly amused parent looking for their camera before becoming disgruntled. Nothing.
Then I saw her, it had taken the jay-bird's mother a little while to respond because she had to get her youngest child (maybe 10 mths) out of the stroller. With little baby on hip the mother headed toward the sprinkler, as she neared the jay-bird the naked little girl did what any little naked girl would do in the same situation and ran. Jay-bird dodged in and out of the water spout squealing with glee as she looked over her shoulder to see her mother chasing her while getting soaking wet. By the time the Jay-bird was dressed and back in the sprinkler with clothes on, the mother and the baby were drenched. I think I laughed more then was appropriate but it is one of those little parts of motherhood that nobody every prepares you for.
Well on Saturday the park was packed and there were at least 30 children, from infant to still cool enough to run around in a swim suit with little kids, crowded on the water feature. We stopped for a while to watch the kids play. My little one watched in amazement at the kids running around and screaming with delight. As we watched the children play I spotted a little girl running towards us. She stopped right in front of our stroller and quickly disrobed. She turned and ran back into the water spouts in nothing but her little panties, leaving her shorts and shirt abandoned on the sidelines. I watched her shriek with satisfaction for her her found freedom. Then I watched as she decided it would be in her best interest to go full monty. That's right she ran out of the spouts and tossed her underwear and ran totally naked and carefree back into the water. I guess this would be a good time to mention the little girl was maybe 4, but probably only 3. I scanned the crowd looking for a disgruntled parent, or at least an overly amused parent looking for their camera before becoming disgruntled. Nothing.
Then I saw her, it had taken the jay-bird's mother a little while to respond because she had to get her youngest child (maybe 10 mths) out of the stroller. With little baby on hip the mother headed toward the sprinkler, as she neared the jay-bird the naked little girl did what any little naked girl would do in the same situation and ran. Jay-bird dodged in and out of the water spout squealing with glee as she looked over her shoulder to see her mother chasing her while getting soaking wet. By the time the Jay-bird was dressed and back in the sprinkler with clothes on, the mother and the baby were drenched. I think I laughed more then was appropriate but it is one of those little parts of motherhood that nobody every prepares you for.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
The Hottest Man I Have Ever Used
So I have decided that every Wednesday this little Darlin will let the world in on something I found, used and absolutely LOVE.
This weeks new crush is something really spectacular so stop reading for a second and chug that martini because it is going to get hot. He is tall, dark, muscular and bald. Every time I feel him in my hand I get weak in the knees. He is the only man in my life that is 100% reliable. Anything I ask him to do he willingly succumbs. That's right, I am talking about the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser!
These things are unbelievable. It is like Mr. Clean and Marta Stewart had a love child in the form of a cleaning product. Close your eyes....well no then your could not read, so keep them open but reflect on the thing you hate cleaning the most. Let the anger and rage fill your body as you think about the bathroom mildew, pee-stained toilet, tub so gross you would not put your ass on it in one million years. Think of the outdoor furniture that is so utterly disgusting you would rather throw it away then clean it. Wish you had another martini? Of course you do. What if I told you this little 4x3 sponge could alleviate ALL you cleaning woes?
It is true! I have used the magic eraser to clean everything, including freshly painted walls in which dirty hand prints miraculously appeared (I think I may call the Vatican, I swear one of the smudges looked just like St. Patrick!) If you do not have a magic eraser please go out and get one you will not be sorry. If you are a single mom, a single woman, or a married woman who wants the pleasure of a tawdry fling without the guilt go and buy magic eraser.
Okay, now go get that second Martini and start dinner!
Love ya',
Stella
The Domestic Darlin
This weeks new crush is something really spectacular so stop reading for a second and chug that martini because it is going to get hot. He is tall, dark, muscular and bald. Every time I feel him in my hand I get weak in the knees. He is the only man in my life that is 100% reliable. Anything I ask him to do he willingly succumbs. That's right, I am talking about the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser!
These things are unbelievable. It is like Mr. Clean and Marta Stewart had a love child in the form of a cleaning product. Close your eyes....well no then your could not read, so keep them open but reflect on the thing you hate cleaning the most. Let the anger and rage fill your body as you think about the bathroom mildew, pee-stained toilet, tub so gross you would not put your ass on it in one million years. Think of the outdoor furniture that is so utterly disgusting you would rather throw it away then clean it. Wish you had another martini? Of course you do. What if I told you this little 4x3 sponge could alleviate ALL you cleaning woes?
It is true! I have used the magic eraser to clean everything, including freshly painted walls in which dirty hand prints miraculously appeared (I think I may call the Vatican, I swear one of the smudges looked just like St. Patrick!) If you do not have a magic eraser please go out and get one you will not be sorry. If you are a single mom, a single woman, or a married woman who wants the pleasure of a tawdry fling without the guilt go and buy magic eraser.
Okay, now go get that second Martini and start dinner!
Love ya',
Stella
The Domestic Darlin
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