Category: Daily Shit

The Shitty Housewife Does Carnival Rides

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So yesterday was my daughter’s birthday. All week we had big plans to surprise her and take her to the fair. We got there and she and her brothers were all smiles. Rides, carney food, rides, games, rides…….my worst nightmare.

See, I hate rides. Roller coasters, haunted houses, spinning rides. Pure hate. I get scared and sick. Who the fuck wants to be scared and sick. But it is a fair and it is her birthday so as her mom, I will go on these kiddie rides and stand there and clap. I mean, I am not THAT shitty.
Well, I almost escaped, but of course the inevitable happened. My husband wants me to go on an adult ride with him. This spinning, up and down bullshit ride. I reminded him that I hated rides…
“Matt, really? I will freak out and get sick.”
“Jan, don’t be lame. It is one ride.”
Well, I did it. Peer pressure from my main squeeze and my girl Nicole.
Night ruined. I was so fucking ill by the time that shit was over I could barely get off the ride. I was seeing double and more nauseous than I was during first trimester pregnancy. We quickly left, rushed home and I spent the next ten minutes puking in the bathroom. I couldn’t even eat the birthday cake I made for Viv. Yuck…..
The good thing is Matt felt so bad for pressuring me, I got some good “I’m Sorry” booty, but to be honest, I was still kinda seasick, I didn’t enjoy that jostle either……

One Pot Lemon Pepper Chicken & Creamy Rice

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The original recipe and video: Lemon Pepper Chicken and Creamy Rice

Buzzfeed food videos are my downfall, I swear. As are one pot meals. When you are the one cooking AND doing the dishes you want your job as easy as possible. And I know the feeling of bittersweet rage after Nick sweetly makes us a meal and uses everything in the kitchen, and then some.

  • Lemon Pepper
  • Paprika
  • Garlic, minced
  • Olive Oil
  • 2 lbs Chicken Thighs With Skin
  • 4Tbsp. Butter
  • 1 Onion, diced
  • cup Rice
  • cup
  • 4 cups Chicken Broth
  • 1 1/2 cup Milk
  • Pepper to taste
  • Parmesan

Beware, I did take a few artistic liberties. These include avoiding all kinds of bullshit measurements. I don’t trust anyone who tells me to limit my butter or alcohol intake.

Preheat your oven to 350˚F

Combine lemon pepper, paprika, and garlic in a small bowl. In a large oven-proof pot (make sure your pot doesn’t have plastic handles as Nick so conveniently pointed out as I was placing it in the oven), heat olive oil on medium heat. Season both sides of the chicken and place in the pot skin side down. Cook until browned.  Remove chicken from the pot and set aside. (Don’t worry! It will finish cooking when you put it in the oven.)

With a paper towel, carefully wipe out excess fat or don’t because fat is delicious leaving the seasoning. On medium high, melt a shit ton of butter in the pot and add the diced onions and minced garlic. Cook until onions are translucent (1-2 minutes). Add the rice and stir until it becomes translucent (1-2 minutes). Pour in the white wine Jack Daniels… because why not? and let it cook until most of the wine Jack Daniels has evaporated (about two minutes). Add the chicken broth, milk, and a dash of pepper and stir. Bring it to a simmer. Place the chicken back into the pot. Cover with a lid or foil and bake for 30 minutes (remove lid after 20 minutes). Take shot of Jack Daniels, or a lovely Jack and GingerAle.

Remove the chicken from the pot and broil on high for 2-3 minutes or until the skin has nicely browned. Add the other two Tbsp. more butter, parmesan, 1/2 cup of milk and parsley to the rice. Stir until well combined. Return the chicken on top of the rice and serve.

It turned out decent. I didn’t cook it long enough to the rice was a bit crunchy still but shit, after a few shots of my cooking helper, Jack, who gives a damn?

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Show me your nudes

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When I see Kim Ks newest nude selfie, I think of many things that are different between us. Let me start this article with this: I don’t care that she takes nude photos. I don’t care that she uses her body to get ahead. I don’t care about any of this because it isn’t my business and I don’t have any say in her life. There is beauty in the female form and who are we to tell her that she shouldn’t be proud of it. There is no reason to hate her or degrade her because we are just different.

Now, let’s look at the differences between us:

My bathroom does not have the gorgeous beamed 20ft ceiling, the warm lighting, the tv, the bathtub, the large window with custom treatments, the door to I’m sure a closet full of clothes when she has “nothing to wear.”

Instead, my bathroom has a terribly unflattering overhead light, barely enough working outlets to heat my curling iron while I dry my hair after washing it for the first time this week, a bathtub full of baby toys and whatever is growing in the grout, absolutely zero natural light, and just outside my bathroom door is a pile of clothes that I really can’t wear because they are covered in food, drool, spit up, dog hair, you name it.

My bathroom is not the home to a huge beveled mirror with marble tiles and spick and span countertops.

Instead, my bathroom has a medicine cabinet barely big enough to get this photo with me on my tippy toes and not big enough to hold the millions of products I use to try to get the perfect skin and hair, because I don’t have makeup and hair artists to do it for me. Btw, I can give you a list of products not to waste your money on. My floors are 30 year old tiles probably full of asbestos. My countertops are covered in my boyfriend’s beard hair and hair from my bangs that are now too short.

My bathroom is definitely not a home to a perfectly plucked, perfectly shaped, perfectly bronzed, manicured, bosomed and bottomed host.

Instead, my bathroom has me. After a year, the skin on my stomach is still saggy. I have love handles. My breasts are uneven and leak breastmilk. My hair is cut and colored by myself (as good or bad as that may be.) My bracelets aren’t Cartier and my eyes need glasses (until I can ONE DAY get that Lasik.) My hairband is on my wrist because at any second with an infant I have to throw it into a bun to keep from ripping it out. My legs aren’t always perfectly shaved (sorry sweetheart) and all of my fun parts are droopy, used and sad.

But one thing about our photos are the same. The hand massaging her shoulders is one that every mother has done. While in this photo mine is posed,  there are many occasions where it is not. This hand on your own shoulder is comforting, it helps massage out the kink between your shoulder blades from hauling children all day, it is to wipe off the snot your child left after sneezing into your hair, and it’s a pat on our own back that says, ” You can do this.”

Daughters

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My daughter turns four this week. It is kinda blowing my mind. It is crazy how fast time has gone by since she entered my life. Maybe because we are like the busiest family on the planet and since her debut we have had two other kids, jobs, school, a wedding and so much more. Or maybe because the idea that time goes faster the older we get is very true.

I became pregnant with Viv completely on accident. Matt and I had our first date March 25th, 2011. I had a positive pregnancy test July 24th. So yeah, that shit was not planned. We were very much involved, we had our first date and within a week we were spending every day together. It was like no other dating experience I have ever had. There was no worry if he was going to call me. No weirdness about who my true self was around him. And no concern that he was going anywhere. He had told me he loved me a couple times after a few beers. The first time, I replied with a “You’re weird.” July 4th, 2011, I covered his mouth with my hand and told him I loved him. I was sober and I just wanted him to know. I loved him and if he wasn’t ready to say it back without booze involved he didn’t need to. Thankfully, after I said it, he took my hand off of his mouth, flashed me that cute smiled and told me that I was the weird one and he loved me too. 20 days later I was throwing up on his bathroom floor telling him I was pregnant.

We both quickly committed to this little thing inside of my belly. We were scared to death, but fascinated with everything about it. As the months went by, fear just got stronger and my belly got bigger. I was already so attached to her and loved her more than words could ever clearly express. The moment I saw her I became a mom. Her mom. I was forever to be the women in her life who shows her how to survive women-hood. I will be the one who talks to her about sex, periods, boys and what assholes they are. I will be the one female in her life she sees day to day teaching her about work ethic, giving back and being a good member of society. I will be the one that tells her that she can be absolutely anything she wants to be because she is a women and we can do anything.  The moment I became her mom I wanted to be a better human. I want to be her role model, and her inspiration. I want her see me do better and in turn have her do better as well. I want her to be the badass chick I know she is.

Being a mother to a daughter is incredible. It is scary as shit too. You have been in her shoes. You know what a cruel and mean world we live in.  You know those awkward stages (a little too well.) You have been picked on, made fun off, hurt, broken hearted and now it is your turn to watch your little girl go through the same. You just now have the ultimate task of making sure she can survive it. She can be open with you and communicate with her how she is feeling. It is your turn to be the shoulder and to say those words “I know sweetie, I have been there. It will get better.” Growing up is hard. Growing up a girl is even harder. Watching YOUR little girl grow up and be let go into this world is the hardest. And on the week of my little girls 4th birthday, I am already consumed with all the hardness we will both have to go through watching her grow into the amazing women she will one day be.

But for now, I will just make her a My Little Pony cake, buy her some coloring books and make sure she has the most amazing day. Because her birthday is more than just the day I birthed her. It is the day she made me the most amazing women that I am.

Lenny Kravitz & Adriana Palicki

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So this week we mixed it up a bit some of the most scrumptious chocolate and smoothest vanilla.  Whether it’s rock&roll and tattoos or sun dresses and ice blue eyes we gotcha covered for that special time.  Remember it’s your soap and its your shower you can wash it as fast as you like.  So ladies & gents enjoy Mr. Lenny kravitz and Adrianna Palicki.

Chicken Pot Pie

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So Tuesday night I gave my husband three dinner options. Enchiladas, beef stew or chicken pot pie. He choose the pot pie. I have made it before and it is really good. And since it is more of a winter time meal, I figured now would be a good time. I had most of the ingredients at home already, just needed a quick stop run for pie shells and something else that at the moment I can not remember.
Side note…..We got to the store and there were a bunch of firemen picking up groceries for the firehouse. I swear, firemen are the hottest people ever (no pun intended.) The really are. And now that I have kids, I work that shit. Kellen and Cameron had their fire truck hoodies on, so I was in the clear.
“Kell, look firemen!” I march my three littles right over to this hot group of men and just swoon, using my kids as bait. They picked Kellen up, high fived Viv. Patted Cam on the head. The kids (and myself) were in heaven. They even invited us onto their truck, (which of course we accepted, but then they got an emergency call and had to go…just my luck.) Now, I feel like this was totally acceptable behavior. No I was not flirting, just letting my kids fulfill their fireman dreams….my fireman dreams are much different and it was not fulfilled….I AM A MARRIED WOMAN!!!! And if Matt saw a group of, I don’t know, strippers and my kids were obsessed with them (they are NOT…I am just using an example) I would tell him to for sure go over and be in the mix for a bit! Back to the food……..
INGREDIANTS
Chicken
2 Pie Shells
2 Cans Cream of Chicken Soup
1 Can Cream of Mushroom Soup
1 Chicken Bouillan Cube
1 Package of corn/carrot/pea frozen veggies
Salt and Pepper
Spices of your choice
Step 1- Cook your chicken. What a fiasco this was. I had bought some chicken a few days prior and the night before my husband decided to put it in the freezer. So when I went to cook it….IT WAS FROZEN. I was so annoyed. Anyway, it was fine, just took a little longer to cook. I through some spices on it and cooked it. You can also buy precooked if that makes life easier. We just had the chicken so I used it.
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Step 2-Wait for the chicken forever…..Viv is not impressed with the whole froen chicken fiasco.
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Step 3-Kepp waiting for chicken…damn you Matt for putting it in the freezer. Oh wait did Biz just come on??? Thanks Spotify
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Step 4-It is finally done. Take out and diced up. Skin and all.
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Step 5- Mix all remaining ingredients in a bowl. Be sure to crumble bouillon cube up in mixture! Pour mixture into pie shell.
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Step 6- Put second pie shell on top (mine was sticking, hence why it looks so ugly.
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Step 7-Cook at 375 for 40 minutes
Step 8-Take out and cool. I cooked at side of broccoli.
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Step 9- Serve! Everyone loved it…including GPA!
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So yeah, it was yummy. But damn…those firemen were yummier!

Shittiest Move of the Week

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It was December 19th…I was tipsy, as always. Matt and I were looking at upcoming events in Atlanta. We saw that two of our favs were coming in town. We both were stoked and of course called our favorite couple Whitney and Ryan (yes Rye Guy Austin.) We told them about both events and they were both on board. My words exactly……
“I’ve got this guys. I will buy both and you can just settle up later. Buying them all now.”
Fast forward to Naughty by Nature. It was great. Great show. We met the band. We had a blast.
Fast forward to this past Sunday morning. I decided to look up the email with the ticket info and print out the four Dropkick Murphy tickets. The email is no where to be found. I looked at my other accounts and still nothing. I pulled up my bank statements and realized I NEVER BOUGHT THE TICKETS. I only processed Naughty By Nature. I quickly looked up tickets. Sold THE FUCK out. Panic set in. I looked on Craigslsit…one person selling them. Double what I thought I originally paid. I emailed her. Sold.
Now keep in mind my husband is like beyond stoked for this event and he has had a rough few weeks. He LOVES this band. This band sang our wedding song. He didn’t have many wedding requests but he wanted one of their songs to be the last song played. So I said yes, emailed every guest and asked them to learn the words. So at the end of the wedding night, when the song…his song…”End of the Night” came on, our entire wedding serenaded us. He loves this band so much that his dad based his vacation around this show so we could have a full night off with zero babysitting worries. He loves this band so much he has listened to them non stop preparing for this show. I HAD TO FIND TICKETS.
I had to break the news to Ryan. He was and still is super bummed. I told him what I was about to pay for these tickets and he just couldn’t. It was a lot. Especially since originally they were super cheap. So Ryan and Whitney aren’t going. Shitty move. I know. I should have offered to pay theirs, but I am a broke ass Shitty Housewife. I know….I AM THE WORST.
So last night, I found some tickets. I paid triple what they were going for. I didn’t tell Matt any of this because he would have been bummed I paid so much and didn’t let him just fit the bill. But damn, he pays for everything, I just wanted to do this one thing! So we are going. Just us. But let me tell you…DRINKS ON HIM!

The Shitty Housewife does the ‘Gallon of Water a Day’ Challenge

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So I used to drink water like crazy. All day, no problems. Being a water drinker was just a normal part of my life. But, as of late, I just don’t drink a lot. In fact, I have caught myself on days, with barely drinking one or two cups. I am not sure what changed, but when I think of liquids, I think of coffee and beer. (Hey, I can’t be the only one right?!)
Well, I have started to notice a difference in my skin, my headaches, my overall well being. And as I am on this journey to become a MILF, I thought drinking one gallon a day for seven days would jump start my hydration level and my health.
Day one was tough. I had to make a very conscious effort to make sure I was drinking. Between the kids and school work and work, my mind is never fully there. So this was a tough task for me. I just had to constantly remind myself. I was done with my gallon around 7 pm and could not stop peeing. I felt bloated but I always was proud. I did it. I set a goal and finished it.
As the days went on, it got easier. I still had to put in a lot of effort in making it a part of my routine, but at that point I was starting to feel a little better and was enjoying it. By day 4, my skin looked a bit fresher. In fact, a girlfriend of mine even noticed (not the husband…but we all read yesterday’s blog.) I was still peeing a ton, but the bloating had gone down.
By day 6, I felt like a million bucks. Matt’s parents had come into town for my son’s first birthday the next day, so Matt and I took advantage of the baby sitters and went out for a couple drinks just us. A couple drinks turned into one too many (we are never alone!!!) I had made sure to finish my gallon before we went out. When I woke up…NO HANGOVER!!! I mean at all. I felt 100% normal, which I always feel crappy after I drink. Matt felt bad, and was jealous of how great I felt!
So my challenge is over, but I am still drinking water! Like a ton!!! I am constantly filling up my water bottle and have kinda trained myself to crave it again. It has enhanced my workouts, my energy, my skin. So I say….TWO THUMBS UP!!!! Try it yourself. IT DOES WORK. It is tough, but gets so much easier as the days go!!! Just be sure to get through the first two days of being bloated and have a shit load of toilet paper, because man, you are going to pee a freaking ton!

Did I cut my bangs for this??????

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My Ride or Die, Dita, who crossed the rainbow bridge last year, HAD to make an appearance in this blog somewhere. Also featuring, her tongue.

So last weekend my husband was out of town for another funeral. The person who passed is very near and dear to my heart, but when the services are in New York City, 4 days after the death and you have a family of five, not everyone gets to go. So I was home all weekend alone with the three kids. It actually wasn’t that bad. (I had a case of laryngitis, so yelling was impossible.) I was running us around town to different parks, stores, donut shops, anywhere to keep smiles on their toddler faces. Saturday morning I woke up, threw on some mascara, saggy jeans and a messy bun and spent the next 12 hours not doing anything to make me feel good about ME. (Well, until I crack opened the first beer.)

At one point I ran to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. Yikes. I was not looking cute. I stood there and stared at myself. My barely recognizable self. I looked really bad. I just looked like I didn’t care. And sometimes I don’t. But I realized in that moment, that I look like this more often than not. After waking up, dressing, feeding, babying three toddlers. Then working, schooling, blogging and just overall life, I never take any time to fix myself up. I don’t take care of myself at all. I stood there hating everything about the way Iooked.

I stood there, mad at myself for letting myself go. I want Matt to come home in a few days to a sexy, new, fresh wife. HHHMMMMM, I used to cut hair and I used to have bangs. Maybe that’s a good idea. I grabbed another beer and my phone for a quick youtube refresher on cutting bangs.

It was time.

At this point, I was mildly drunk, pretty emotional from the loss of this week and feeling pretty good about my skills. I went for it. After I put in a few layers, I pulled it all back and made the cut. Bam, I now have bangs. I just kept cutting and cutting. They got shorter and shorter and thicker and thicker. And damn girl… I looked good. The night continued, I was feeling great. Matt was going to love how cute and new and fresh I looked.

When I woke up and took a shower and began drying my hair…panic hit. What the fuck did I do??? Why the fuck did I cut my own hair??? These bangs were shit. I pinned them back and again, I was frumpy old me again. Here I was trying to feel better about myself and get some of that old confidence back that I used to own and I fucked my shit up. I spent that whole day worrying and stressing and playing with these lame bangs, it was kinda ridiculous.

 Matt came home the following day. After a full day of freaking out over the bangs I decided to embrace them. I had no other option. I spent about an hour working on them (because you know I have all this time to fix fucking bangs) before I picked him up. And by the end, I was feeling good again. I looked different. That was all it was. I had become comfortable in my frumpy state and these cute bangs were just different. Cute and new and different. I did a full on makeup session and felt beautiful. I could not wait for him to see me.

I meet him at the airport. He gave me a great greeting, a great hug and a great kiss. I was all smiles just waiting for him to say something about my bangs. The fucking bangs I had spent the last 48 hours FREAKING out about. I got nothing. Through dinner, welcome home booty, breakfast the next morning…NOTHING.

I was bummed, but I guess that is just life. I am sure Matt has noticed a difference in my looks. He knew me and how cute I was before kids. He sees me on those rare occasions now that I do dress up and he appreciates it. He sees how fucking hard I work at life and understands working on myself with fancy hair and makeup is not a part of my daily journey at the moment. To him, I didn’t look that different that day. I just didn’t look like an old mom. He was so excited to see me and that’s all I should really care about, right?

It has been over a week and he still has not mentioned the bangs. But no one else has mentioned them either. So maybe it really doesn’t look that drastic. Maybe I look the same. But to me I look different. I do look better. And I know that is all that should matter. But seriously, I stressed for days over him thinking these new bangs were ugly…turns out he doesn’t think they are. He just doesn’t notice them at all. Fucking men. Fucking self-esteem issues. Fucking bangs.

Ellen Page & Leo DiCaprio

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Seeing as though the Oscars were last night, I decided to have today’s Masturbation Monday be all about two amazing actors. And besides them being incredibly talented, they are also SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!!!  Both are the epitome of super stars yet have such a mysterious vibe about them. So here we go, get your hands ready…Ellen Page and Leonardo DiCaprio.

Ellen Page….So we all feel in love with this gal in Juno. She nailed that role and was freaking adorbs while doing it. She went on to gain incredible leading roles, holding her own next to some pretty big stars!  She has dated some super hot men and now, after coming out of the closet, some pretty sexy ladies too. Whoever she is banging, she looks hot doing it!
Leonardo DiCaprio…..No words. There isn’t a 30 something, female on this planet who has not crushed over this guy. I mean from back in the Basketball Diary days to Wolf of Wall Street…he never has ever looked bad. He only seems to date models and probably only deserves to date models. I mean, yeah, I want to bang him, but would feel like a disgusting, gross looking human after comparing his beauty to mine. He is just perfection. And if I ever did get a chance to bang him, I would totally make him do his Departed accent while we were hooking up……SWOON.