Wife Life

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Wife VS Girlfriend…

So I have been a girlfriend a lot longer than I have been a wife. In fact, I only recently got married and became a wife.

I became a girlfriend for the first time when I was 20 years old. Currently I am 36, so I have a ton more girlfriend experience. I honestly don’t think girlfriends get enough credit. Yes, when Matt and I exchanged vows and made that step, things did change. MAJORLY. But that is for another blog. Prior to that I was his girlfriend for almost 5 years and most people did give me that respect of importance in his life, but some did not. And sadly, the people who did not were mainly women. Most of the time, not openly, but females were the ones who asked the questions like “Do you guys talk about marriage?” “Don’t you want a ring?” “Isn’t marriage important?” “How do you know he is committed?” HHHHHMMMMM, how do I know? Because I fucking know.

At the time he was my boyfriend and we had committed to that and that was enough. That was major. We lived together. We had kids together. We discussed major life issues together. We planned a future together. The wedding and ring did not solidify our relationship as a couple. Our open love, respect and loyalty is what made us solid.

When you get married (especially when you already have children) society is so much more accepting. You don’t get sad eyes saying “Oh, you aren’t married to your baby daddy?” But my role has not changed. Our commitment hasn’t changed. I was just as much a committed girlfriend as I am a wife and the same for Matt. I was so proud to call him my boyfriend. I was even prouder to call him my baby daddy.

Being in a long term committed relationship should not only be accepted if a piece of paper and a piece of jewelry are involved. It should be fine with zero questions attached to it when you are deeply in love and in it for the long haul.

I did think about marriage and if we would get married. I wondered if Matt would at some point propose to me. I remember my friends asking me when we were going to have a wedding. But looking back, I kinda regret those thoughts. Because while I was wasting my time doing that, he was building a life with me. He was working on his future with me. He wasn’t concerned about creating a title for me. He was only concerned about creating a life with me.

Society and it’s so called acceptable standards get in the way of every aspect of our lives. If you are a girlfriend, do not let it get in the way of that. That shit is AWESOME. Someone wants to be with you, for a long period of time, and love you! I promise…THAT IS ENOUGH!!!!

Now trust me, I ADORE being a wife. But I don’t consider myself A wife. I consider myself HIS wife. With love and respect Matt asked me to be his wife. It wasn’t because it was time, or because we rushed, or because I pressured him. It was simply because it felt right to us to change our title.

Be proud to be your role. Whatever it may be. And be proud to tell someone you are not married yet. Don’t let them take that special feeling you get when you are a girlfriend away. You never know when your role will change and it will happen at the perfect time, with the perfect person and with the perfect piece of THEIR HEART.

Bryan Cranston and Diane Lane

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I hope your bullets have fresh batteries and you have extra lotion on hand, because today is a double dose of parental hotness. You heard correct boys and girls, we are checking off the 50-65 age bracket for today’s Masturbation Monday.

So everyone who has a pulse knows who Walter White is. (And if you don’t, well I suggest you stop reading this very moment and sit down with a pack of smokes, 8 tombstone pizzas and binge watch the best show that has ever happened to TV, Breaking Bad.) The leading man, Walt aka Heisenburg, may not be that hot on the show, but god almighty if he isn’t the tallest glass of water off camera.

Look, maybe it is my deep seeded daddy issues, but there is something not only sexy about Bryan Cranston, but so comforting. I grew up without a real father presence and I long for that from Bryan. Seriously, I want him to adopt me and take me to the fair and make me pancakes, you know daddy stuff. CREEPY alert, I also want bang him. I do not want to bang my dad, just Bryan, when he is pretending to be my dad……ok I just made this so weird. Fuck it, just look at the pictures below and have fun. Daddy issues or not, you can not deny this dreamie piece of man.

Bryan has not only done TV, he has accomplished movies, Broadway and will soon be a voice for an animated role this summer. He has been with his wife forever, never has bad publicity and just seems super fucking cool. I love him and one day when he adopts me I promise I will stop lusting after him.

 

So if you have seen Unfaithful, you have pretty much seen some of the best PG-13 sex scenes that have ever existed. I mean for real, like one of the hottest movies ever and mainly because of Diane Lane. I remember watching her and thinking, wow, that lady is fucking sexy.

She embraces classiness in a way that most Hollywood leading ladies can’t. She has mastered her roles with grace, beauty and EXTREME hotness. She has made males of all ages swell up and continues to do so even as she gets older. I only hope to still look that good and can turn people on when I am her age! Man ol’ man Miss Lane, go on with your hot self.

Catelynn <3 Tyler

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So since Rye Guy decided to slam Farrah, I thought we would keep up with the Teen Mom theme for the salute.

I used to catch an episode or two of the show, but it got hard to watch. I will say this, when I did watch I was always pretty impressed by Catelynn and Tyler. The fact alone that they were brave enough to realize that they could not give their child the life she deserved because they were so young was fascinating to see. They chose to put their baby up for adoption. Then they stuck to their guns, went through with the adoption, and gave a couple who had tried forever to have a baby, the gift of a sweet precious girl.

I can not imagine being strong enough to do that. And I admire every single couple who does this. Adoption is the answer in so many cases. It is a smart, courageous, bold and beautiful decision. You are making a couple a family and giving a child a chance at a better life. Nothing is more meaningful that that.

They were only 16!!!!! What a hard choice to make so young! But they did it. And now, years and years later they are STILL together. They are married, have their own child and still have a relationship with their adopted baby and her parents. I salute you C and T!!!! You are the smartest two kids MTV has ever seen!

Fuck You Farrah

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Farrah, Farrah, Farrah

Every now and then I get roped into watching some mind numbing reality tv shows. Wait, I gotta be honest with ya, I am slightly more addicted to shit tv than I’m comfortable admitting.  Everything from Couples Therapy and Jersey Shore, to Intervention and Where Are They Now, Real Life and Teen Mom 1,2 and now Teen Mom O.G. Some of you may have caught a few episodes or you are completely enthralled and wont miss a second of the drama.

Some of the people on these shows have some personalities that you really relate to, even maybe say to your self, “Man have I been there” or you really think, “I could hang out with that guy/girl.” Whether it be Snookie, Jay Wow or Pauly D to Vanilla Ice and Ron Jeremy on Big Brother.  Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, has gotten under my skin, and I’m sure under the skin of most halfway decent people that have ever had the displeasure of watching M.T.V’s Teen Mom O.G.’s

Farrah Abraham, known by some as “Backdoor Teen Mom” or the headline dancer at Palazio’s Gentleman’s Club in Austin, Texas.  To me that’s all well in good, do what you do. But the part that really chaps my ass is her relationship with her mother and her interactions with the crew that has the miserable displeasure of having to spend their work day getting bitched at for wearing shoes in her house or using a glass in her cabinet for a glass of water. She is such an out and out bitch that she made M.T.V. get an outhouse for the sound man and camera man to use. Mind you, these two guys are the same two that have filmed her segments for the past six years. Just to give you an idea, one of the other teen moms on the show recently had another baby and asked her sound woman to be the babies god mother!

On a recent episode Farrah had asked her mother to watch Sophia while she was away on a business trip. Sophia is Farrah’s rotten little brat daughter who is constantly hitting her grandmother, sticking her tongue out and just plain being a miniature version of her mother.  I know that picking on the kid is not very grown up, but this isn’t about me!

So more about her, in the conversation with her mother she says, “Mom I just want you to know that I have rules at my house.” These rules included “using to much detergent when doing laundry.” Just so everyone is clear here, her mom lost her job in an attempt to schedule the multi week baby sitting engagement. She basically put her life on hold to help out her daughter.

On Farrah’s Wikipedia page it states that Farrah and her mother have always had a tumultuous relationship. When Farrah found out that she was preggo at 16, her mother denied her an abortion. A lot of Farrah’s actions and comments towards her mom makes me wonder if she resents her mother for having to grow up too fast.  As they say Play ya Play.

Now that I have said that, I really need to say this: Farrah Abraham is a self centered, disrespectful, plastic surgery laden piece of shit.  The way that she speaks to her mother makes me sick to my stomach.  The way she allows her daughter to treat adults drives me fucking insane.  She was recently invited by a friend to a party in the Hamptons as a +1. When the host of the party found out that she was coming, an email was sent saying that she was not welcome. She then showed her face with her mother and manager there anyway and was quickly showed the door, a highlight of my reality television watching career.  She truly is the bottom of the barrel.

I, myself, have never been at a loss for words. I consider myself a decent conveyer of words, yet I  feel like a small visual aide should be included. So here is a small mish-mash of some of this despicable human, for your viewing pleasure.   I hope she gives you the same blood curdling, stomach rolling, ‘who shit their pants’ feeling that she gives me.

I very rarely use the word hate, but I hate her, and to tell you the TRUMP truth, I’m not a real big fan of her daughter either.  For your viewing pleasure or maybe just to bring you down to my level we have included here you go. Check out this skank in all of her glory.

Lunch Fail

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Well guys, I failed. I promise, I had it is my schedule to make a meatloaf and tell you all how I made it. Because, honest to god, I make a good fucking meatloaf. But my plan got screwed up. My schedule changed. We had to rush out of town last week and we got back super late Tuesday. Wednesday was a blur, Thursday I ended up working a double so Matt could spend some QT with the kids and when I got home last night I had forgotten about a school assignment (because I’m shitty.) So needless to say after working a long shift and an hour of Intro to Human Resource Management homework, I was sure as shit not about to cook.

So here we are Friday. I got up, fed, cleaned, dressed all three kids plus myself and three dogs, we hit the YMCA., because I needed some regrouping. Then I braved the DMV for the third time in attempting to change my name alone with the monsters…err, I mean kids. We waited an hour, finally our turn and of fucking course, they just changed some rules and I needed yet another document. FUCK YOU!!!!!! So I am done. The kids are cranky. We just needed home and some lunch and a Xanax (just kidding, but kinda not.) So here I am…LUNCH TIME!!

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Step 1- Give the The Fat Kid anything quick you can find in the fridge. He is hungry and mad. Mac and Chz…PERFECT!!!
Step 2- Leftover pizza?! Wonderful. Heat it up, throw on some fresh spices, the older O’s will be in heaven!
Step 3- Look at your household in despair. Will they ever, ever, ever pick up after themselves.
Step 4- Make yourself your millionth cup of coffee for the day
Step 5- Tell them they get a special treat once they clean up and eat their pizza. They will be so happy for their reward.
Step 6- Longingly gaze at the beer that is waiting for you. It is Friday. FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK

 

 

The Shitty Housewife’s Shittiest Moment of the Week

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Here is the deal…I don’t get jealous of much. Like, if a girl checks out my husband, I am proud (he is mine and someone else wants him, why be jealous? Be stoked.) I don’t get jealous if he gets to go out and I am home with the kids. I don’t get jealous that he makes way more money than me. I just don’t get jealous. Except for one thing. One major thing. I get jealous of SLEEP. Like full on, pissed off, fuck you, I hate you jealous.

Since I got pregnant with my first child, my sleep has suffered. So seriously, since 2012, I have not had a good night sleep. Every noise, every baby cry, toddler whine, dog bark, EVERY FUCKING NOISE wakes me up. Matt can sleep through anything. Like, he can wake up, have a full-fledged conversation and not even realize that his sleep was interrupted. While I am over here awake for hours after, wondering when I will get my z’s again.

Earlier this week we had to take a quick road trip out of town for a funeral. Of course my kids are already a train wreck because they are traveling, but even worse, they aren’t sleeping. Like at all. I felt like in a span of 4 days I got about two hours of sleep. And not because I was out partying, but because my kids were being out of control. And who slept through it all? Yep, you guessed it. My husband.

Well, the last morning I had had enough. They woke me up at 5:30 am. After kicking and crying and whining all night, I felt atrocious. I got up and played and got them breakfast and settled them down as much as possible, and Matt slept. My anger increased and rather than just being a rational human, going over to him and waking him up and telling him I was tired and needed help, I decided to just be a bitch. An angry, overtired, crazy bitch.

It was our last day, so I packed everything up and sent it down to be packed in the van.

Except his clothes. (I packed his toiletries just because, fuck you, you are sleeping, you don’t get to feel fresh.) His parents popped by the room to see if we needed help and I talked shit to them about him (I know, BAD!!!) Then I made sure to get the kids out of our room, into an adjoining room and wake him up with only 5 minutes to get ready.

For a funeral.

It was low. He asked why I didn’t wake him up sooner, but I was too angry to even talk to him. And it wasn’t real anger, it was just exhaustion. Pure tiredness won the battle of Cool Jan vs Crazy Jan. I know it could have been worse and I could have been meaner, but this was shitty given the circumstances.

It was a funeral. For his Grandmother. Ouch, I know. Once again, I am the worst.

But don’t fuck with a woman’s sleep. I think his Grandmother would have understood. A tired woman is worse than a scorned woman in my opinion. Lack of sleep will make you insane.

There it is, my worst move this week. Better luck next time I guess!

A quick side note, his grandmother was the epitome of was a perfect housewife, mom, sister, mother should be. What a beautiful women was never stopped learning and loving. She had 9 children, 26 grandchildren and now her great grands are growing all the time. She received her masters when she was 62!!! She never stopped. She raised kids and educated herself and just continued to grow. I feel so lucky to have known her and have her love me. She welcomed me into her amazing family right away and never made me feel weird about having her grandkids out of wedlock. On my wedding day (pictured below) she told me she was proud of me and proud of how happy her grandson was. I hope I continue to do that forever, as shitty as I am.

Lookin’ Shitty

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KeepMilfStatus

Here is the thing. I don’t mind working out.

I really don’t. I always feel so much better afterwards, I have tons of energy and I overall know I look better.

As far as eating healthy, I enjoy that too. Healthy tastes yummy, it’s fulfilling and of course it is so much better for you than processed foods.

I have worked out and eaten well my entire life. I always have a gym membership and I have continuously kept my weight down. BUT… (of course there is a but, this is The Shitty Housewife…) that shit is getting hard. It just is. After waking up and dealing with day to day life, keeping up with work and school and kids and chores, going to the gym has just become an annoyance. I still eat healthy. Obviously, from other posts, you all know I drink beer and chow queso, but I do eat healthy the majority of the time.

I know finding time in your day for yourself is so important and good for you, blah, blah, blah. But when I get some free time at any moment, I just want to lay in my comfortable bed, alone, in the quiet, BY MY FUCKING SELF, RESTING, and not on some elliptical machine or some spin class.

I am just over it. And the worst part about it is that now I am old and I actually have to REALLY try. In my early twenties I would feel fat one day, go jog for 30 minutes and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, looked like a million bucks again. Now, it takes weeks and weeks. I busted my ass after my third child. I worked out like a maniac. I got the weight off quickly, got super toned and on my wedding day, I was almost too skinny. But that stopped. Once life was back to the daily grind I lost interest.

Look, I want to feel good and look better. I want to get checked out by young boys. I want my husband to see other men check me out and be proud that I am his. I want to be the MILF. I want to look in the mirror and think “damn girl.” But all of those wants aren’t making it happen.

Here is my plea…help me readers. Give me some tips. Some advice. I need something more than just looking at pictures of Jennifer Aniston and Kate Hudson at this point. Although, their abs are motivating, lets be realistic here. I don’t have their time, chefs, trainers or MONEY. (If I did, I would probably just have a more comfortable bed and this would be even more challenging.)

What is your workout routine and why do you like it? How do you keep yourself motivated? How do I say no to early bedtime and yes to a quick night work out? How do I rewire my brain to love my body more than my bed? I am making an internet vow that by next week at this time I will have found something. Then I will do it in front of you all (not literally, I will just give you updates. You watching me workout would be too embarrassing, even for me!) I will keep track, tell you how it is going and let you know when I fuck up and stay in bed (but in bed with my husband doesn’t count because that sure as hell burns calories.)

Maybe keeping my word will be motivation enough.

Probably not, lets not get our hopes up.

Again, this is The Shitty Housewife. Dropping the ball is kinda my thing.

Push This!

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I know I am going to get some flak for this post. But it’s something that I have strong opinions about and I kind of feel like, I paid for this blog, I can say what I want.

Push Presents. Who the fuck came up with this?

I had never even heard of this until a few years ago. So, basically, a push present is a gift given to a woman after she has given birth.

OK. So after the blessing of getting pregnant and carrying a baby full term and delivering it (which is the most natural thing a woman can do) and seeing that sweet little face in your arms, living and breathing, you want to get a really cool present?

For real? Isn’t that baby your present? Shouldn’t your heart be so full of joy and happiness that you have a child be more than enough? Shouldn’t the fact that you are no longer pregnant and you can eat a shit load of queso and booze again be the best present of all?

When did giving birth become something we need to expect a present for? Look, I get it, that shit is HARD.  I did it three times, back to back to back.  Literally 27+ months of giving up my body for a child to grow and develop inside of me. Then I pushed all three out with zero drugs. And to be honest, none of my pregnancies were planned. Two of them I was on birth control pills, one using condoms. I was sick as hell with all three, uncomfortable all the time, fat as a beached whale and over it every day. Like, white girl can’t even. But, once those little babes were put into my arms, I was compete. I did not need any sort of medal or special reward from anyone for doing what I did. A happy, HEALTHY baby was reward enough.

I think a new set of diamonds would have cheapened the adventure Matt and I had just experienced. Why do we always need to get rewarded for things that we are supposed to do?  I got pregnant and it became my job to take care of myself and my body and create a safe environment for this fetus. And when it was time, it was my job to push the baby out into this world as safely as possible. IT WAS MY JOB. When I do my job at work, I get a paycheck, not a fucking necklace attached to it with a thank you from my boss, (although, since Matt is my boss, he does give me a pearl necklace every now and then if you know what I mean.) It was my job the moment I decided to be my kids’ parent (instead of swallowing that night.) Matt did not need to reward me. Yes, I gave him this gift of a child, but this gift would not have been mine without his sperm and his friskiness.

There are women out there who have tried for a long time to get pregnant. Women who carry a baby but the baby does not survive. Horrible things that women have to go through just trying to get the gift of a baby. Those women would want to, and deserve to, punch any other women who expect a fucking push present in the face. Sometimes we need to get over ourselves. This is one of those times. When someone asks me what my push presents were, I straight up laugh and give them the same response, “See those snotty, cranky, and straight up disgusting children over there? I got them. And they are simply the best gifts I ever have, and ever will receive.”

Parenting 101

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If this isn’t parenting, I don’t know what is. A chatty, small, bald puppy watching you pee, wearing only one sock because who knows where the hell the other one is, playing with the tube that the bath toys came in, because it’s more fun than the actual bath toys, but hey, it’s better than the bleach bottle or plunger she had before, all while I realize how dirty my floors are and shame myself for letting my child play on them but you just started laundry and that took you a week.
Happy Monday, mother fuckers, and mothers.