Thank you Mr. Paxton for bringing so much joy, love, talent, laughs and hotness to our screens. You will forever be one of my favorite actors.
Bill Paxton
Oh Shit Is Right
Dude, I am spent. And it is only Tuesday……Days like today are hard, especially when you feel kinda defeated, run down and, welp just old.
It has been a whirlwind of a few days, which I know is normal in my family, but this weekend kicked my ass (and is continuing!)
In the middle of taking an exam on Friday afternoon, my sweet pug ran up to me, opened his mouth and exposed a gigantic, gross looking, exposed, tumor like thing. I quickly finished and rushed him to the vet. After finding out he needs surgery to remove it, I rushed home because we had scheduled a family photoshoot, which was great, but intense getting everyone dressed up and ready. Fast forward a few hours, all three kids wake me up different times during the night complaining they didn’t feel well. I barely slept. They needed me, they come before sleep. My alarm went off at 6:15 so I could head to work.
I come home from work on Saturday and these guys are a mess. Mainy, the older two. Just snotty, coughing, red eyes, overall disaters. I spent the whole rest of the day being bossed around by angry, sick, little humans. In between their blahness, I snuck in some much needed homework and tried to regain my sanity.
Sunday was more of the same, but now the baby was feeing it. We attempted to leave the house a few times, but they were all just too sick. I was about an hour away from dropping the ball on a group assignment for school, thank god I caught the date last minute, otherwise, my ass would have been screwed in class. I had to rush through it and get that turned in, on top of everything else (most of my work is always due Sunday by midnight.)
They all three woke me up again, several times throughout the night. I slept on floors, beds, couches, pretty much anywhere where I could snuggle them and make them feel better.
Monday required a doctor visit. All three have pink eyes and colds. The baby has a double ear infection. The pedictrician called in some meds which I tried to grocery shop while we waited, but I had a screaming, exhausted baby and two sick, but overly hyper from couped up for days toddlers. At one point said to me (I must have looked THAT tired and THAT overwhelmed) “Mommy, you are doing a great job.” Which was so sweet. He then proceeded to scratch his sisters face and scream “BUTT IN YOUR FACE.” So that sweetness faded fast.
Finally got the prescription, got everyone home. Battled with giving eye drops and amoxicillian. Then I did what so many of parents do when times get tough. I handed Viv the remote, let her find YouTube and proceeded to let them zone out to creepy surprise egg videos. I NEEDED A MINUTE.
But I actually didn’t get one because I had school work. Matt had to work a double yesterday and although I know he had a rough day too, I know mine was tougher. I am thankful though that I was the one home all day with them though. Because when they are sick and exhausting, they want their mommy and only mommy. They want my snuggles, my voice and my arms surrounding them. And no matter how exhausted I am, I will do this and let them NOT want Daddy as much as they need.
Once Matt came home, I was able to get the baby more meds and to sleep. While I was doing that Kellen passed out on the couch. I put Viv in her bed and she asked me to lay with her for a bit. Once they were all asleep, I finished one last assignment and crawled to bed.
Cam woke me up at 4:15 this morning. I got him back to bed after a dose of Motrin. My alarm goes off at 5 am every morning during the week so I can get school work done before my day starts, so I just stayed awake. I have a double myself today, with a one hour break to take an exam.
Oh shit……that is the kinda week I am having. It is only Tuesday. I feel defeated, I feel run down and I feel old. But they are feeling better. They all slept more and coughed less last night than they have in the past 4 nights….well everyone except me, beause now I am feeling sick.
Mommying is not for the weak. Being an adult student is tough stuff. Not giving yourself much because you are giving it to so many other people and things is rough. Combining all of those is just stupid. But it is where I am in life. And surprisingly I am not as mentally spent as I assumed I would be. I somehow managed to right this and venting here has already made me feel better…..(that could be the gigantic coffee and Dayquil I popped also!) We will survive this. They will all sleep through thte night again, and maybe I wil too. Until then, I will keep rat racing it out. And continue to mutter Oh Shit to myself every 30 minutes.
23 Realistic Maternity Photos From A Shitty Housewife…
Is your biological clock ticking? Are your ovaries on fire? Well they are about to jump out into oncoming traffic. This is what a pregnant woman of a toddler is REALLY thinking during pregnancy…
1.He lied…
2. Best be glad I haven’t stabbed you in your sleep yet…
3. Don’t look at me while I devour this. Just throw food at me and call me pretty…
4. He is drinking for 2 and makes you want a shot even more…
5. Dreaming of the day you can enjoy the soothing burn of tequila once more…
6. The first meeting of new siblings…
7. This is going well…
8. #FirstKidProblems
9. I’m in charge of ALL of them? Can’t we just take a nap? Shit, am I missing one?
10. This is great. What the fuck was I thinking? At least I found the other kid.
11. This bitch over here better get her kids and her lips off my tequila!
12. Nap time. Mommy can’t stand up anymore…
13. Well that’s real fuckin sweet…
14. All I wanted was a hug! Maybe a kiss!
15. Does this kid make my belly look fat?
16. For all the times he complains about getting no credit. Then the kid pops out looking like his twin…
17. Are you making fun of my weight? Not the best idea, bucky… It’s your turn to push!
18. Let me tell you ’bout my best friend…
19. Just a sip? This swing doesn’t go any damn higher, child!
20. There are many moments of weakness…
21. And many meltdowns… From you AND the toddler…
22. But you aren’t the only one who now has to suffer! He’s stuck with your crazy ass…
23. Ok maybe you are…
24. Just remind him often, YOU DID THIS TO ME!!
XOXO
The Shitty Housewives and kids
Adding another to the chaos March 2017
Thank you to Steph Kitchens for the photography. To book her services, go here.
Why you should talk shit to people…
Being “nice” has created quite an issue in our society. I am not talking PC here, because that’s not what creates the biggest change in the world. What changes the world is how we talk to each other. How we interact and deal with each other. How we tolerate each other.
I say fuck being politically correct and here is why.
It used to be that kids could play down the street without a parents eyes on them at all seconds. My mom could rest easy knowing that someone is there to help if something happens. And my mom could whoop my friends’ asses as well as mine if she caught us doing some bullshit (and best believe she did.) Now, a parent wont tell a kid to get out of the damn street when cars are coming in fear that another parent will get upset, or because kids just aren’t outside in the world anymore…
It used to be that when you were having a house party, you go talk to the neighbors and give them a heads up and the open invitation to let us know if we got too rowdy. Now, a party gets a little loud and the cops show up at your door and your neighbors hide behind their blinds to avoid confrontation.
It used to be that when your neighbor ties his dog up outside and it barks incessantly, you would go talk to them and try to find a good solution for the dog and the owners where everyone was safe and happy. Now, animal control shows up with a citation but not more, a rescue warrior steals the dog, and the neighbors just get a new one to start the cycle again.
I read a story the other day that a woman was getting out of her car at her apartment complex and slipped on wet brick and broke her arm. Her first thought was to hire a lawyer to sue the complex. She never told the manager of the complex, never asked them to fix the issue or give her a deal on rent while she was out of work, nothing. She just lawyered the hell up. What do you think they did when they got that fancy letterhead? They lawyered the hell up right back at her and won. Now they have this shitty tenant-landlord relationship and zero mutual respect. Now they will feel the need to constantly be on the defensive and may not give any other tenant any kind of slack or help to protect themselves.
I’m not saying that there aren’t new issues that have arisen that create a more difficult road to relationship recovery, but shit, man. What happened to us talking to each other before bringing in higher authority? When did we become so afraid of dealing with our fellow humans that we felt the need for a mediator? This is what is wrong with the world today. We aren’t dealing with each other as neighbors, coworkers, parents, friends, family, human beings. We are expecting someone else to take care of it for us. Whether it be for our protection or theirs, it is bullshit.
I’m not going to go as far to say ‘snitches get stitches’ but snitches get under my damn skin and create a really difficult to navigate world. We need to start handling our shit like adults again and come together as a community like it used to be. You don’t like someone? That’s fine, but don’t get petty and snide. You don’t agree with someone? That’s fine, but don’t expect them to change their views to make you happy. Your kid beating on someone? That’s fine, wait, no it’s not. Come on over, Barbara, let’s chat over margaritas.
14 Times I Fell in Love With My Husband
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….
- 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!)
- When he laid with Dita and I in our bed as she passed away.
- 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!)
- 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!)
- 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??!!)
- 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.)
- EVERY TIME HE PAINTS OUR DAUGHTER’S NAILS….every fucking time.
- 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.
- 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.”
- The very first night he introdcued me to the amazing comfort of flannel pajamas.
- 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.
- 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)
- 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!!)
- 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
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
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 Atlanta Falcons
Enough said………
WE LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!!!!
xoxo
The Shitty Housewife
The Mall Allure as a Mom
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
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.
