Steve-O and Kat Von D

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Is Steve-O a good looking man? Hell no.

Is Steve-O sexy as fuck? Hell yes.

I’m really not sure what it is about the man. Maybe the fact that he’s seriously nuts. Stupid shit we are glad our husbands don’t do becomes hilarious and downright hot when he does them. Don’t ask me why, I really can’t tell you. He’s got his own face tattooed on his back, a fat chick silhouette, and I’m surprised his dick even works after all of the abuse it has received.

But now, he’s clean and sober and still sexy as hell. Because he is now an animal rights activist for factory farmed animals and even did a stint in the pen for his anti-Sea World demonstration.

Oh and he’s dating Kat Von D…

Is Kat Von D a good looking woman? Hell yes.

Is Kat Von D sexy as fuck? Hell yes.

This girl is just the shit. Total girl crush. Besides her killer tattoos, sexy slim body and hair that would make a Disney princess cry, she’s fucking rocking. She is a classically trained pianist, starting when she was 6, a singer, artist, obsessed with Beethoven and has two sphynx cats. She has a vegan makeup line with Sephora and her shoe closet itself is masturbation worthy. index

Saturday Slam

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MY PERIOD.

For real.

I hate you.

You come at me every fucking month and attack my entire body for days on end. You make me feel fat, ugly, starved and unsatisfied. You make me want to cry my eyes out and kill every human in site. When you are around I deeply love and hate things I normally wouldn’t. You make my head ache and my back hurt. You make my feel icky and like the complete worst version of myself. When you are around, I do not feel like a women, I feel like a monster in the body of a water buffalo. You are the only thing that makes me want to injure my husband when he asks me what I want for dinner. CHEESE DIP! I FUCKING WANT CHEESE DIP. But there is not enough in sight to satisfy this craving.

You, period, are a horrible bitch who turns me into just that. a fucking horrible bitch.

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SATURDAY SALUTE….My period. Thank god you are here.

Overnight Oatmeal

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One of the most slackest parts of my day is breakfast. While my husband makes these yummy elaborate morning meals that everyone in the house swoons over, I am the queen of offering dry cereal, a granola bar or microwaved waffles.

I know…I’m shitty.

Well this week for Fat Kid Friday, I decided to up my game. Since mornings exhaust me I thought I would try overnight crockpot oatmeal. This way, when we all wake up I have a yummy, healthy, fulfilling meal waiting for everyone. And I won’t start the day feeling like the shittiest cook ever.

 

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 cup steel cut oats
  • 1-2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries (I used 2 cups frozen)
  • 2 cups water
  • 2 cups milk
  • 2 tablespoons maple syrup
  • ¼ teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla
  • Optional garnishes: chopped nuts, nut butter, fresh or dried fruit, granola, shredded coconut, honey, additional milk ( I didn’t have any of these, so I just added some brown sugar)

DIRECTIONS

DSCF0518Step One- Pour yourself a bowl of cereal. It is 9 pm and you are making oatmeal. You deserve a yummy snack.

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Step Two- Gather ingredients. You know you bought these steel cut oats a long time ago when you were trying to be healthy, but that instant shit is just too easy. Now here is your chance!

DSCF0513 Step 3- Get your crock pot

Step 4- Make sure it is plugged in. (remember that time you did not do this step and 4 hours into your crockpotting adventure you had raw meat…..and you had to pick up the dinner tab out that night?)

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Step 5- Go look at your family who is all relaxing and chilling out, while you are crockpotting…seriously, WHAT THE FUCK…can today be done already?

Step 6-Pour all of the ingredients into the crockpot and set on low.

Step 7- GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP

DSCF0521Step 8- Wake up and check on crockpot with so much excitement because you are a goddess who made a great breakfast.

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Step 9- Offer it to toddlers. Viv (of course) approves. Kellen (of course) hates it and wants a frozen waffle

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Step 10- Put some on baby’s highchair plate and watch this human go from adorable to disgusting in minutes.

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Step 11- Drink your coffee. Because seriously, that’s all we housewives really care about in the morning. And throw some Baileys in it

 

 

 

This actually was really good. Two out of three kids approved and the hubs liked it too. I have to force feed myself breakfast because I am never that hungry when I wake up. But I had a few spoon fulls and thought it was tasty. I would make it again, but next time I would spray pam on the inside of the pot. It is 5 hours since breakfast right now and I am still scrubbing that piece of shit.

 

Shittiest Move of the Week

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Well here we go again. My Shittiest Housewife move of the week.

Last week I talked about my kid choking. This week, once again, I have a few to choose from, but I am going to choose one that is not about parenting. It is about wife-ing. And surprise, surprise, I had a pretty shitty moment.

My husband and I have a mutual friend who is moving out of the state. We decided to have him over for a quick bite and a few drinks, one last time before he hit the road. We made sure the day was packed full so we would have some tired kids.

It worked.

As the night progressed, they all quickly went to bed leaving just Matt, our guest and myself awake. Well, I decided to take full advantage of this and started drinking some cocktails, rather than the normal beer that I am used too. The drinks were flowing, the laughs were bursting and I was feeling good….and frisky. I started dropping the hints to Matt that tonight we were knockin’ boots (and when I say dropping hints, I was so drunk, I feel like I just straight up shouted that to him mid conversation.) Our friend is used to this behavior and Matt and I who never show PDA moved past our awkwardness of it this particular night. We were feeling good and excited about some adult time later.

We said goodbye to our buddy and the making out quickly begins. In my head, I was being all sexy, but in reality, I was probably just being weird and wasted (you know, normal Jan.)

“I’ll be right back,” I say as I sneak away. Matt is pumped. He goes to the bedroom and I go to our bathroom. The room is spinning. It’s been a long time since I have been like this. I drink, but not like this. Beer is my jam. These cocktails have jacked me up.

Suddenly, I am vomiting like a high school girl at a Dave Matthews concert circa 1999. All sexiness is gone, all cuteness has vanished. He knocks on the bathroom door and asks if I am ok. Of course I am not. I am a hot fucking mess.

I slept on the bathroom floor for awhile that night. No one got laid. And the next day, with the worst hangover I’ve had in many many years, I am even more shittier of a housewife that I am on most regular days.

So there it is. My moment. I want to hear yours!

CONTEST TIME….This week, since my shittiest moment was about sex and adult time, we have decided to give away a $25 gift card to Victoria’s Secret!

So ladies tell us your shittiest moment and then go indulge. And men, tell us your shittiest moment and give that shit to your lady friend (or use it yourself, whatever floats your boat. No judgement here!) Post your moment in the comment section via the website, Facebook or Instagram. Tag a friend to do the same and you are entered! Don’t be scared, we are all friends here and at least yours doesn’t involve drunken vomiting!!!

Wednesday Wife Rant

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boobs

I want a boob job. I do. Like bad.

And I feel like I deserve one… right now. I know I will get one eventually. Matt and I have already discussed this. He knows that I want the youngest member of my family to be my breasts.

I used to have nice boobs. Nothing big or anything. They were just perfect for my petite body. Nice and plump and perky. Then I got pregnant. Three times in a row. I nursed and pumped those bad boys for 3 different human beings. After all that work, the payoff was watching my cute boobs get smaller and smaller and smaller. And I get sadder and sadder and sadder every time I put on a pre-pregnancy bra.

I feel like after growing a human in my belly, pushing them out of my body and nursing them, I should be rewarded with some nice knockers. But nature works in the complete opposite way. After all that work, our bodies get weird and plumpness moves elsewhere. Look, I am all for a post-partum body and feeling good about yourself. I know I look great after 3 kids. I know my body is a goddess temple..blah, blah, blah… BUT I JUST WANT MY BOOBS BACK.

Matt promises he will arrange help and childcare and financial assistance for this to happen when I am 40. By then the kids won’t be so needy and hopefully my recovery will be quick and easy. It just sucks that I am going to have to pay and recover from something I already had! It’s going to be a long 3 years with my itty bitty titties but I know time goes fast.

Until then, I will stick to my push ups (that are actually too uncomfortable to wear anymore) and continue to stare at other women’s chests. Who cares if they think it’s creepy?! Soon I will be staring at my own and I won’t need them right?! You can stare at them too. I’d appreciate that, actually.

So that’s my rant this week. I want boobs. My boobs. I was not ready to say goodbye to them and I miss them all the time. They were the best, those fun bags.

Until we meet again.

xoxo
Jan The Housewife

My Lovely Baby Bumps

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THAT ONE TIME I WASN’T SO SHITTY
So 5 years ago, I was pregnant as FUCK and it was Christmas time. It was my very first Christmas with Matt and I had no idea what to give him. At the same time there was a video going around the web of a “mini Jan” shaking her ass  with the most amazing moves a kid has ever had. Matt was OBSESSED! He showed it to everyone because this “mini Jan” was seriously me when I was young. He kept saying over and over again how I cold never shake my ass like that. So thanks to help of some editing friends, and a great doggie audience, I replicated the moves with a 7 month pregnant belly, side by sided that shit and gave it to him on Christmas morning……here it is in all it’s glory!! And didn’t my tits look great??

Timing of a Wife

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I never wanted to be a wife. It wasn’t really a major goal of mine. I never had the wedding dreams or thought much about rings. I just didn’t get that girly gene. I have had lots of boyfriends. I had lots of hook up friends. I never really hated being single. I never really sought out boys, although there always seemed to be one around. But I was always pretty cool with it either way. When I was with someone I gave it my all (well, as much as a semi shitty person can give) and when I was single, well, I lived that shit up. I went on dates, I went out all the time and I made out with pretty much most of the boys in Atlanta.

I was always pretty weird when I got involved with someone. I wanted my alone time, my space and my friend time. I really never combined those moments with the boys I was with. I just couldn’t figure out how. Once I hit my 30’s there became this ridiculous pressure from so many sources that it was time for me to settle down. That going bar hopping and boy hunting was not okay because I was older and that I was at an age where finding a man and raising some kids should be my main focus. These ideas came from all over. Friends, family, co-workers, social media, EVERYWHERE. And yeah, there were certain situations that I did start to lose interest in. Some scenarios that I did feel like the “older, single” girl. But I let that shit roll off. Sometimes allowing it to roll off was easier than others, but I remember thinking to myself that finding that one person would happen for me at some point. I knew it would happen. It would happen at the time it was supposed to and not a moment sooner. Yeah, I had my moments of crying over a boy. I had some lonely Sundays (never Saturdays, if I was lonely I did something about that shit on a Saturday night, that’s the best part about being single.) And of course I let those stereotypical images of me growing into an old single cat lady (or in my case pug lady) enter my mind.

But ya know what? FUCK THAT SHIT! There is not an age that you are supposed to start the role of a wife/husband/partner. You become that role when you find THE person. And to me, the later in life you get married the better. Less of a chance to cheat, get bored or divorced, right?! The longer you have to play and experiment and learn and grow into your best self, the better chance of your marriage surviving when it finally happens. I was 36 when I said my vows. I sewed a shit load of oats and stood up there, knowing who I was. I gave him the best, real-est, shittiest Jan I am and because I did not rush it, it will be the same one he says goodbye to when I pass away (that’s really morbid…my bad.) So here is what I am saying: To those of you who think there is a certain age one should be married and settled….FUCK OFF.

Now that I have found Matt, I would have waited another 30 years for him. His love for me was worth the wait. Would you rather me have married the person I was with when I was 27?? HE WAS AN ASSHOLE!! And I would have been divorced by now. So back the fuck off with your old school way of thinking. And for those of you who aren’t married and think you should be because that is what society says…relax. And I know it is easy for me to say because I am married now, but try to enjoy. Do all the things and ALL THE PEOPLE you can do. It is your time to shine. Single is not a bad word. It is the time when you mold into the person you need to be and your future partner is doing the same. I can guarantee you, had Matt and I met years earlier, it would not have been what it is now. We needed those extra years under our belts without each other and with each other as boyfriend and girlfriend to be this awesome married couple we are now. So let’s all start re-wiring our minds. Enjoy each day, whoever you are with. Even if you are just with yourself. Because in the long run, you truly are the only person you need. Everyone else is just an awesome bonus.

And you can do this whether you are married or not…

The Tatummmmmmms

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Well here we are again, Monday. Same grill, different cuts of deliciousness.

Channing Tatum and Jenna Dewan Tatum

One couple, two different pieces of art. Who has not dreamt of going out clubbing and waking up at the Tatum residence? How should I say, “the butter on their biscuit,” “the fruit in their JAM,” any way you slice it or spread it they are one of the tastiest couples of our time.

This Masturbation Monday, we have served up a small taste of this magical couple, three views of each for you to take a minute, or five, out of your Monday for yourself. Just don’t forget to lock the door!

Now let’s see who did it better…

 

 

Nicole Anderson

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nicoleaweddingOur SALUTE- Nicole Anderson!!!

Nicole is my new girl crush. Not only is she FUCKING ADORABLE, she has been my #1 cheerleader since the moment I thought up The Shitty Housewife. I thought Matt was the best “Jan has a weird idea” supporter, but Nicole takes the cake. Nicole is the brain behind this science project I have going. She designed this site, made the logo, and produces the memes. SHE IS THE SHIT!!! She is way too young to be so smart and so life savvy. Nicole has an adorable boyfriend Nick and their baby, Joss, is the cutest little cookie ever. She is a huge pit bull advocate, exclusive breastfeeder (that is SO TOUGH) and sarcastic as shit. All of this equals the one of the most amazing ladies to ever enter my life. She has been great guidance to Ryan and I with The Shitty Housewife. And now she also has become a great friend. I trust her, I admire her and I just kinda love her. I salute you Nicole! You make my heart happy! I know you have shitty qualities but damn girl, you wear them well!