Category: Daily Shit

14 Times I Fell in Love With My Husband

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So if you remember from last year…I am not a Valentine’s Day kinda gal. The day bugs me for some reason. It feels weird, forced and like it makes an entire group of people who are not normally sad about being single, sad. And I hate anything that bums people out. But this year, instead of trashing the holiday in the good ol’ Shitty Housewife fashion, I have decided to open up about my main squeeze….my husband. I have fallen in love with him several times throughout our 6 years. You know what I am talking about, after you have been with someone for awhile, but they do something that makes you all gushy inside. So here are 14 times (because today is the 14th…duhhhh) I have fallen in love with Matt O!

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER….

  1. When I told him I was pregnant for the first time and he immediately vomited. (It was quite endearing for some reason, and I had just finished puking myself, so it was very compassionate!)
  2. When he laid with Dita and I in our bed as she passed away.
  3. When he agreed that getting married on Halloween night was the best idea ever in the entire world. (It is hard to find people that would be that into the weirdness of tying the knot on a spooky day!)
  4. When he built me a desk in the basement so I could get away from the kids to study (and hang out with my cat!)
  5. When he told me he loved me for the first time standing in a middle of a festival in our beloved city of Atlanta watching Arrested Deveopment perform (I mean, come on….that is like a dream, right??!!)
  6. When I told him I wanted to expand my garden but was too busy to actually do it, I came home from work with the entire expansion dug up and bordered. (Gardening has become an incredible outlet for me and the only way I know how to unwind. He knew I wanted a bigger one and how important it was, so him acknowledging it and making it happen was just freaking awesome.)
  7. EVERY TIME HE PAINTS OUR DAUGHTER’S NAILS….every fucking time.
  8. When I gave birth to our third and had to take finals 5 hours after labor, well let’s just say there has never, ever in the history of pep talks been one better…EVER. Plus he mommed up and did some shit with Cam that was the freaking sweetest newborn/daddy shit I had ever seen.
  9. At our wedding (like a million times) but especially at the end of the night, when the party was ending, he grabbed me and whispered in my ear that “no other man has been luckier than me.”
  10. The very first night he introdcued me to the amazing comfort of flannel pajamas.
  11. When we were sitting in the food court at the mall, mildy hungover with a 1 year old and 2 month old, eating bourben chicken and he proposed to me.
  12. After he proposed ringless..he explained he wanted us to plan this ring together. It was important to him for us to do it as a family, because we had done all the other really important stuff as a family. (SWOON)
  13. When I was in the 16th hour of all natural, excruciating labor, begging for drugs (which I vowed I would not do) he looked at me, crying and said “you are the strongest human I know, you are so close and I know you can do it.” If you ever have had natural labor you know how important hearing those kinds of words are. (Later, I heard him telling his brother and friends what a badass I was!!)
  14. Every single time he pours me a beer (and follows up with an orgasm)

So there it is. I could go on and on, but you guys don’t want to hear all this lovey dovey shit I am sure.  His love has changed my life in so many incredible ways. I am really am lucky that our worlds collided and we are able to share this journey. Today I will celebrate our love and maybe even give him an extra HJ!

Happy Valentine’s Day

xoxo

The Shitty Housewife

Brandon Flowers and Gwen Stefani

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I love rockstars. I love sexy people. I love awesome humans. These two are all of the above plus more. I mean who doesn’t want to make out with a hot, talented, cool person, right??!!

Gwen Stefani…queen of cool. For like, so many years. Her style has changed, her look has changed and her music has changed, but her awesome cool chick, feminst, stylish funk has not. Her body is killer and her ex husband is like, the hottest (sorry to bring up old shit Gwen!) I love Gwen and everything she is about. And now she is a mom and still a rockstar…nothing shitty about that!

Brandon Flowers…need I say more. OMG he is so fucking hot. His music is killer (pun intended!) I have loved him for a hot minute and would do just about anything for a hot minute alone with him. His voice is beautiful, his lyrics are beatifully odd and he is the epitome of a hot rockstar.

So turn up the music and dust off the ol vibrator. Time to rock out with your cock out…or in my case, my vagina out!

xoxo

The Shitty Housewife

#THESHITTYHOUSEWIFE 2017…..SIKE! I STILL LOVE YOU ATLANTA

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Last year my husband strongly encouraged me to run for city council of my district (DISTRICT 5 BABY) this upcoming 2017 election year. At the time our presidential election was in full swing and I felt very inspired to pursue this idea. I made some phone calls, exchanged some great emails, spoke with potential campaign managers… I mean you guys, I was serious. I even thought of an incredible tag line and had my 3 main focuses as a council member mapped out. I adore this city of mine and I assumed, if given the chance to represent it, I must.

Election night struck and I was even more motivated. I wanted in on this change that I know is going to happen. I wanted to be a part of this revolution. I became even more excited for this next journey of running. I attended a few meetings, I listened in on some conference calls… I was fired up.

Welcome to January. The month of new beginnings, right? The month I was going to begin campaigning and running. This was it. But something happened. School started, exhaustion set in, reality struck. That something that happened was LIFE.

When I say I am currently at the busiest stage of my life, I am not lying. I have a 4,3 and 2 year old. I work full time. I have a blog. I have 3 dogs. I have a husband. I have chores and lastly, I am a full time student. I am taking a large load this semester, in fact I refuse to tell you all how many classes I am taking because you will think I am the craziest human on the planet. To say my plate is full is laughable. I currently have 2 full plates, with a dessert and leftover plate sitting next to those 2 full plates, talking some serious shit.

In January, when Trump began, all of these incredible meetings and meet ups and conversation nights began around my city. And you know what sucks? This political activist, this women who wants to run for city council, this girl who is devoted to bettering Atlanta can not even make ONE. Because if I do make a meeting, I am falling behind on an assignment. I am falling behind at work. I am falling behind at home. I am falling behind as a wife. Most importantly, I am falling behind as a mom. And none of these things can happen. As much as I want this journey, my life is not where it needs to be to run.

I love Atlanta. This city means so very much to me. This place where so much of ME was created. I met and fell in love with my husband at all the hotspots on the East Side. I had all three of my kids at Atlanta Medical Center. I had a beautiful hairstyling career in Vinings for 10 years. I started (and ended) my own business in Buckhead. I made out with every boy who has ever lived in Brookhaven.  I got married in Cabbagetown but spent the entire day with all of my best friends (who I met here) in Midtown. I tailgated for the first time ever years ago with the Falcons. I was hit with a foul ball at Turner Field. I vomited in the Target in Tucker. I lost my virginity in Athens. I am raising the cutest family with my person in Edgewood. I mean where else can you live where older strippers are celebrated? Where festival season is a way of life? Where the entire town shuts down when it is cold? Where traffic is so bad, you literally DO NOT even notice it? Atlanta is my city. I found myself in every nook and cranny of the ATL and this city helped mold me into the women I am today. And as much as I am dying to represent this city, I have too much happening to give it all of that it deserves. Atlanta is simply the most amazing city ever and the only way I could ever thank her is by making sure she gets the best… and right now, the best ain’t me.

I mean, we all know, I am the shit, but taking on the incredible honor of on any seat here in Atlanta takes someone who can put in as much as Atlanta gives back. The people here are devoted, the culture is divine and the history is unprecedented. There are no words for how lucky I am to call this place my home. I feel like right now, if I did run and did win I would not be able to give it my all. And Atlanta  is worthy of ALL of our all.

So this year, my name will not be on any ticket. It’ll be on a million other things like homework assignments, PTA chairs, work emails, applications for jobs, and so much more. But it won’t be in any voting polls. And that’s ok. Because if I do every get the opportunity to give a thank you back to the city that has helped me become me, I want my name to be loud and clear. I want my name to be proud. I want my name to be as enthusiastic for Atlanta as it has ALWAYS been for me.

The Mall Allure as a Mom

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The mall has been there for me through many phases in my life. It has marked my journey through womanhood and tracked my stages in life. But it seems so different now, as a mother.

In middle school, it was the first place I was able to go solo with friends. We would get Starbucks frappuccinos (with minimal coffee taste,) browse the aisles, try on clothes, and buy the cheapest sample or best clearance item just so we could have bags on our arms. In high school, it was my happy place. I was always an introvert and on those trying days I would head to my favorite mall by myself and my nanny-fund for some serious retail therapy and my favorite food. Then my later teen years where I skipped school with friends and almost got arrested for shoplifting… but I am insanely NOT proud of those times. In my early college days, it was somewhere I never was but always wanted to be to escape the harsh realities of the impending doom that was adulthood. I realized quickly between work, classes, and my boyfriend’s unwillingness to go that I didn’t have the time or money to even step foot in the mall, as much as I craved it. And now, as a mom to a toddler and pregnant with another, somewhere I think of as a memory of days past. Somewhere I can’t afford or wish to be with a toddler in tow. Those soft pretzels though…

So when another one of my mom friends uploaded a new selfie the other day in this adorable lacey, tank top, bralette thingy, I asked her about it. She told me it was from Abercrombie & Fitch and honestly, I rolled my eyes a bit. All I could think about was the price tag for the tiny amount of clothing, the overloud music, the signature cologne overwhelming the air even two stores down, and the perfect little model sales girls that were super nice making them even more intimidating. She sent me the link anyway and let me know it was on sale for only $7! I was shocked and SOLD! I rarely buy anything for myself, especially now when nothing fits my 8 month belly and we are saving for the new baby, but I said screw it and got two.

I set up ship-to-store to save 5 bucks shipping, because I am forever thrifty (and cheap as hell) and waited for its arrival email. In no time at all, the email came to pick it up and I headed to the mall, without toddler and extremely pregnant, but super excited with a twinge of nervous fear. What would it be like seeing those perfect little 00s or even worse the perfectly douchey and chiseled male models… But on I went.

I parked by the Dillard’s, like I always had, and walked through those doors to the smell of “mall.” I know you know the smell when I say that but I had forgotten all about it and it took me back. I felt like a teen girl again, that’s until I literally walked into one of those stupid display table they have in the middle of the aisle, and I felt my age and size again… I got to the A&F and prepared myself mentally to walk in, thinking how silly I was for being nervous, but almost trembling all the same. I wasn’t greeted by anyone and actually had to seek out a sales girl and to my surprise, while beautiful, she was totally normal and easy to talk to. I gave her my info and she disappeared to the back to get my order.

I walked around the store to see such a change. They had swapped the mens/womens to opposite sides of the store and the entire back section was now abercrombie kids. It was full of 4T jeans at the price tag of $54 and t-shirts with huge moose logos for $25. My “mom of toddler” mode switched on and I found it almost humorous. I looked around and noticed there was much more lighting, less plants in your face and while it still smelled delicious, I had feeling left in my nostrils. I realized how silly I was to be so intimidated by this store and how my mom must have felt every time I dragged her in and tried to guilt her into an extremely overpriced purchase. And I immediately wanted to simultaneously apologize for the times I gave her attitude for not buying me $75 jeans at 12 years old and thank her for not killing me for said attitude and instead spoiling me with a pair at Christmas (only to outgrow them in a few months and hand them down to my baby cousin.)

 

I was late to pick up my kid so as soon as I got my order, I raced back out to my car, wishing I could spend more time exploring the place that I had spent so much time growing up. I felt like I was visiting an old home, but that I didn’t belong there. I think I would still go to all the same teen stores with their comforting feelings and smaller price tags that I was used to, not the adult lingerie or business casual stores that I always thought I would as a mom. I felt the nostalgia wash over me and while I realize it isn’t somewhere I want to go shop on the regular, a nice afternoon out sounds nice to just stroll and sip. After all, I can find some killer Banana Republic and J. Crew deals at the Goodwill 2 blocks away.

Long story short, the “adorable lacey, tank top, bralette thingy” are far too small for the belly and have snaps like a onesie at the bottom, which my boyfriend quickly pointed out, taking away all sex appeal. Thanks, babe.

 

 

The New ‘Walk of Shame’ as a Mom

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So it is time I discuss something that has been on my mind for quite some time. A change that has set in a couple years ago and has become so prevalent in so much of my thinking lately. Something I kinda don’t want to admit, but feel like if I do, maybe someone, somewhere will reach and say… girl, I feel ya.

Here I go….I will just come out and say it.

I am no longer the hot girl in the room.

Ugh. There it is.

And side note, I was never THE actual hot girl in the room, but I was A hot girl in the room who had the confidence of Rocky Balboa and Ferris Bueller combined, making me feel like THE hottest girl in the room.

It is a weird place to be. Especially out in settings where men would approach me, bars, gyms, social settings. I used to get hit on. A decent amount. Like whenever I would go to a bar, club, party… men would come my way. I have always been cute. I have always had a killer little body and more than either one of those, I always have had a shitload of confidence, which once combined… all of those things make you very approachable.

It was very normal for me to end an evening with a few phone numbers and a few turn downs. But man, times have changed.

Now, I am stunned if I notice a man looking at me. I started to wonder… do I really look THAT different? Yeah, my body has changed. Boobs are smaller, not as tight and perky all over as I used to be… but I am still in shape. My face has more wrinkles, my eyes have much bigger bags… but I still have the same look. But what have I lost in the past few years of going from a single girl who did her own thing and only had to worry about herself and 2 pugs to a married women with 3 toddlers, a job and a shitload of responsibility? I lost me. My identity. And in doing that, my confidence is shot.

It sucks. I remember on date number 3 with Matt (how I remember who knows since I can’t even remember to take my slippers off and put on real shoes some days) I remember sitting on top of him and making out. He pulled away and in his oh so sexy New England accent said “You’re really hot.” Not so bashfully, I said something cute like “I know.” Then he explained, that yeah, I was physically “wicked hot” (hehehehehe) but that he was more attracted to my confidence. That he hadn’t met a girl who was “so proud to be herself.”

I tear up thinking about this moment because A) how sweet he recognized and appreciated it B) it seems like a lifetime ago and C) WHERE DID THAT GIRL GO??!!!

When we become adults, mainly caregivers, and especially women, we let ourselves go. And I am not just talking about appearance. We let our minds and our souls and our needs and our wants and our selves go to this thing we are taking care of. They come first. They are more important. They become who we are.

It happened so fast for me. As most readers know, I became pregnant… extremely unplanned, less than 3 months after meeting Matt. The girl who he began dating who loved herself more than she could love any man got knocked up and every single thing changed. FOR ME.

My sexy little body was no longer my own. It now belonged to this baby in my belly. And even after my daughter arrived, it still belonged to her. My boobs fed her. My arms held her. My heart soothed her. My everything was hers. Where was I? Somewhere inside trying to figure my way back.

2 more pregnancies later, here I am. A wife who has created 3 kids. And now that my youngest is no longer a baby, I am here in a state of confusion about myself. My world drastically changed and now, since we are done in the baby department, I am trying to find my way back to me. But how do you do it? How do you get your confidence back? How to you tap into your old self when your new self is so different?

My looks feel different. Some days I stare at myself in the mirror and think, who the fuck? I see me, but I don’t. When I am out I see younger girls, with their cute outfits, stacked with boobs and ass and I think ‘that used to be me.’ I watch men look at them and not me. I see my husband glance their way, then of course back to me to chat, but I think, ugh… he signed up for that and then bam, got this.

Maybe it is a constant battle for all women. Adjusting to getting older. Adjusting to life changes. But man, although I would not change one ounce of my life, I would still love to have that feeling again. To be THE hot girl in the room. Even if I never actually was, I would love to feel that confidence again.

Letting go is probably a huge part of this process. Letting go of the idea that I am no longer that age, that shape, that unwrinkled. And trying to learn how to embrace and love my new self. Enjoy my insanely small breasts. Love my crows feet. Laugh at my incredibly low stamina. I mean, it’s life and it is what happens.

Growing through adulthood is tough. And being a women through it is even tougher. And although we are the stronger sex, we have a harder fight. And maybe if I keep reminding myself that I have had a tough one and I have survived my fight and came out with an awesome family, a sexy husband, a slight (and temporary) blow to my confidence, that is ok. And hey even though I my never be that hot girl in the room anymore, I can confidently say I once was and damn it was fun.

Tom Welling and Mischa Barton

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This week we have been tapping into our inner past selves and thinking about the days of the past. For me, my early 20’s would not have been the same without the good ole CW and it’s fantastically awful, yet awesome shows. So keeping that train of thought, I figured well, who were the hottest blast from the semi past ever…..Tom Welling and Mischa Barton! Welcome to Masturbation Monday, CW style.

Who didn’t love Mischa Barton when the O.C. came on?? She was beautiful and bitchy and nailed the whole Orange County teen thing perfectly. All girls wanted to be her and all boys wanted to bone her. And I probably wanted to do both! She always had the perfect clothes, perfect hair and perfect sun kissed tan while she was doing her high school thing. Although she had a crazy, weird death scene quick into the show, it was still great and she was still smoking!

Smallville. Superman. Teenage Clark Kent. TOM WELLING. Can you say lady boner even as I type this years after the show ended. WHAT A DREAMBOAT!!! In fact, Tom was on my Top 5 for many, many years. He is fucking beautiful and that body…..girl stop. I love the whole Superman thing and have watched almost every movie ever made about him. But this show was my obsession. Not only was it based around an awesome character, but Tom was SO good as a young version and even better to look at. The only probelm was there was never a hot sex scene…….Recently, I realized you can Netflix and run around screaming at your children while watching Smallville. And one weekend, when my husband is away, I plan to do so….with my vibrator.

So enjoy your Monday and take some time to reminisce about the CW and all its glory. Remember their teen angst and turn in into your Monday yanking the crank. (I am for real, that is a thing. I just looked up slang terms for masturbating…….)

xoxo

The Shitty Housewife

 

Shittiest Move of the Week

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Wow, I haven’t done this in a hot minute. I thought it was about time I brought back this segment. I think calling ourselves out on the shit we do is important. It helps us grow, makes us think and allows us to get a bit less shitty!

So this week I told myself to back off social media and political discussions. We all know they are all over the place. Everyone is sharing, posting, tagging and I get it. We all have so much we want to say and what better soundboard than Facebook. But it was beginning to ruin my day. I am very passionate about things and when I see a post, especially by someone I consider a friend, and we do not agree…..well, I can not control myself. I fucking can’t. I defend myself and my views and my values OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. But why??!! My post is never, ever ,ever going to change someone’s mind. And I know this, but I can’t stop.

This week, after the Womens March, I got a little out of control. I could not stop. Posting. Arguing. Defending. It has become a problem. And you know what, I don’t think defending my views is shitty. But it is fucking pointless. Maybe the higher ups want this. All this arguing amongst each other, so we can let that get in the way of the actual facts (not the alternative facts….actual facts….sorry, I can’t help it!)

But fighting and disagreeing is so not my style. So I am commiting to taking sometime off. Sadly, the only way for me to do that is to stay off of Facebook. No more scrolling for me for a minute. A LONG MINUTE. Maybe even a 4 year minute. My shitty move of trying time and time to make someone understand that they are a douche is just not worth ruining my day! So peace out Facebook arguements. You were real, you were shitty….you were realy shitty.

xoxo

The Shitty Housewife

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Carla Anderson, BullsEye Rescue

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So, I have decided to begin a new monthly feature about people who are NOT as shitty as you know who (me people…I am talking about me, The Shitty Housewife!) People who are super cool, doing super cool shit and making super needed differences in this insane world we live in. Whether they have started their own business, survived some crazy crap life has handed them, or are living their life by giving back. These people are making strides to better their world and ours and I want to celebrate them. Welcome to NOT SO SHITTY THURSDAY!

My first feature is a beautiful woman who I am lucky enough to call a friend. She spends her days and nights being an awesome mom, grandmother and wife. She spoils her friends with her unconditional love and welcoming arms. And she busts her ass saving animals here in Atlanta with her very own organization, BullsEye Rescue.

Their mission: “BullsEye Rescue, Inc. is a non-profit, licensed Georgia rescue committed to improving the lives and reputations of breeds typically classified as “Bullies” (Pit Bull Terriers, Staffordshire Bull Terriers, American Bulldogs, Bull Mastiffs, Rottweilers and mixed varieties of these breeds and others).” So basically, they get to the nitty, gritty with these angel pups that can have a bad reputation (not in my house…I have 2 pits!) and make sure they are fostered, cared for and ultimately into a forever home. 

I will say these, I have been in the animal industry for years now. IT IS NO JOKE! The emotional strain can be so hard and draining. It can be heart breaking and heart warming day in and day out. What Carla and her team are doing is incredible and we are lucky to have her on our planet. I adore her, and so should you.

Here she is folks…meet Carla Anderson

So, tell me a little about yourself?

I’m a wife, a mom, a CiCi (don’t call me a grandma!) and a friend. And a misfit.

How did Bullseye Rescue come about?

BullsEye Rescue was born of my love of dogs and our own Foo. I was involved in animal rescue for awhile and saw lots of rescues, working as emotional wrecking balls, but not as companies. To be successful, I felt we needed to behave as a responsible company. Being a rescue doesn’t exclude you from operating responsibly.

I went to adopt Foo and they told me I couldn’t have him because he was a “pit bull” and I told them to get that dog and bring him to me or there would be hell to pay. I had no idea about Breed Specific Legislation in Clayton County at that time. They changed his breed to American Bulldog and I left with him while the vet was driving in to euthanize dogs that day.

Have you always been a dog lover?

I’ve always loved animals—dogs, cats, lizards (I’m from Miami!)

Tell me about your first rescue?

What would be considered our first rescue? Our first rescue as a family was when I was a teeny one in Miami. My parents weren’t the hippie-rescue people in the 70s. A kitten showed up, we took him in.

As an adult, our apartment in Buckhead was broken into while our 2 year old slept in her bed. We went the next day and adopted the biggest dog at the shelter. He was 80 pounds and peed himself if you looked at him.

If you could be any animal BESIDES a dog, what would it be?

I would be a dolphin! I would love to ride the waves and make the boaters smile! And beat sharks’ asses!

What inspires you to continue what you are doing, especially since animal rescue can be so emotionally trying?

Animal rescue is especially trying. Our friends, fosters, volunteers and donors keep me going. They are all so incredibly committed that I couldn’t imagine bailing on them! Moreover, my kid and my husband. My kid has grown to be a rescuer and my husband supports me to the ends of the earth. He understands my every evening on my phone working on dogs in need and tells me he couldn’t be more proud of what I do. My support team is incredible.

What hobbies, besides saving puppy lives, do you enjoy?

MUSIC AND FRIENDS! My entire “other” life is music! There is nothing in this world that is better than a bunch of friends singing and playing music! My husband is an amazing musician and our kid is the BEST singer I’ve ever heard! Give me a glass of wine, my family, and my friends and I couldn’t be happier.

What is your favorite and least favorite dog related movie?

Best: Balto and The Drop

Worst: I don’t know. Either I’ve missed it or I’ve blocked it.

I know you love music, if you could sit in a crowd full of Pit Bulls and serenade them, what song would you sing?

Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds

I ask all of my guests this….what is the shittiest move you have ever made?

There are so many…

Shameless plug…. How can my readers find you and reach out to you via social media info/website/etc.

www.bullseyerescue.com

www.facebook.com/BullsEyeRescue/

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Boys will be Boys????? By Ashley Marsh

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How many times have we heard this term? Growing up I didn’t give it much thought; even as a young adult I didn’t give it much thought. It wasn’t until I had children of my own did I actually think about this saying and the effects it has on our culture.

Boys will be boys.

What does that really mean?

Does it mean boys/men are expected to be irresponsible, noisy, rude, unpleasant, cruel, or boisterous? Does it mean boys/men will behave badly and it is okay? Does it mean certain things boys/men do is not surprising? Is it an excuse for boys/men to act however they please and get away with it? Yes, yes, yes, and yes.

I now have two children of my own; two boys ages 3 ½ and 1 and I refuse to say this to them or about them. Let’s be honest, kids are fucking hard. Not just boys; not just girls. All kids! When people ask me if I want to try for a girl I will openly admit that I did not want girls, but not for the reason you may think. I don’t feel one gender is easier than the other. My reasoning for not wanting girls is because I can’t do my own hair and makeup so how am I supposed to teach a little girl how to do it! Another reason I never wanted girls was because I always looked up to my Aunt Karen. She has two boys roughly the same age apart as my two boys (2 ½ years between my two) and I have always admired the relationship she built with both her very different boys. Now I know you can do that with any gender, but I look up to her for so many different reasons and always wanted to grow up and be just like her; somethings don’t change no matter how old I get. (Love you Auntie <3)

Anyway, back to raising assholes; boys are not predestined to be assholes. They aren’t predestined to be mean or cruel. We tell them it’s okay to act that way with these types of sayings. I don’t want to raise assholes. I want to raise my children to be respectful, intelligent, kind, and generous adults. The saying ‘boys will be boys’ is simply telling them they don’t have to be any of those things. They don’t have to respect me because ‘boys will be boys.’ They can door poorly in school because ‘boys will be boys.’ They can be rude to other people because ‘boys will be boys.’ They don’t have to respect the word ‘No’ or consent because ‘boys will be boys.’ They do not need to be held accountable for their actions (or sometimes lack there of) because ‘boys will be boys.’

I think you get the point.

Another reason I will not say this to my children is because I do not want to give my children a preconceived view on male and female roles. In my home, I expect my husband to help me with the cooking, cleaning, and other household chores. When my kids get a bit older I will expect them to contribute to the cooking, cleaning, and household chores (I can trust them with) as well. My husband helps with the night time feedings, early morning wake up calls, diaper changes, discipline, and all things ‘kid.’ I expect my boys to contribute as much to their future children as their partner does. I want my children to know they can be sensitive, they can cry if something hurts, but they can also be masculine and strong when they need to be.

If you didn’t catch on by now, you should know I am a feminist. However, that doesn’t make me hate this phrase any more. I would hate it if I was a feminist or not. It definitely doesn’t make me hate men, I love them! Shit, I better; I’m surrounded by them. 🙂

My ultimate goal is to raise my children into two competent adults who respect all genders, races, religions, and people. By letting them off the hook for any wrong doing I am not helping them; I am hindering them. I am setting them up for failure. I am not holding them responsible for their actions. By telling them ‘boys will be boys’ I am telling them they don’t have to worry about their actions or words. They can say and do whatever the fuck they want. They can grow up to be like Brock Turner or Donald Trump because ‘boys will be boys.’ I absolutely refuse to let my children, boy or girl, act like those two imbeciles.

With our current political figures and news stories, we need to change the way we think. We need to stop saying things like ‘boys will be boys.’ We need to raise our children to be better. We need to be better. Our children need and deserve good role models. That is our responsibility as parents. And let’s face it, our kids deserve our best.

And in comes the shitty house wife, how am I supposed to do this? How do we raise our kids to be respectful, intelligent, kind, and generous? Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I’m winging it and secretly hoping my husband has an idea of what he is doing. Any and all tips are appreciated!