A FB status caught my eye and I thought it was a really cool FB status.  My friend said she spent the evening knitting, baking, and doing laundry.  She was amazed at her evening, but I was thinking, sounds more or less like mine, except I didn’t bake, or do laundry, or knit even.  But on most nights, after kids go to bed, I curl up on the couch with my crochet and watch TV.  Or, a more common scene, after all my TV watching is done, I click on my sewing machine and work on whatever.  A new purse, stuff for the shop that I’m trying to get done, whatever…

It didn’t bother me that she marveled at her evening.  We crafters have to start somewhere.  What bugged me a little were the comments (in jest) about “Knowing your Role as a Wife” and linking that ridiculous magazine article from 195?.  Perhaps it’s just me, I’ve been off my KIT pills for a few days and I’m super-irritable.  I know the jokes shouldn’t have bothered me.  Then I got to thinking… when did we define being a good wife with doing things like knitting and baking or laundry even?  Don’t we all need clean clothes?  And isn’t this the mentality of “domestic=weak?” (Like, we’re too fragile and dainty and stupid because we cook and clean and craft. (To which, I reply, NOT HARDLY!))  I mean, this is why a lot of women out there don’t talk about the fact that they do these things or enjoy doing these things because they’re shamed into feeling like they aren’t “modern” enough!  Then young kids don’t get taught how to do these things for the same reason and it slowly becomes a dying art.

I’m not saying that all women should want to do these things.  Just like I will never say, “All women should stay home and take care of their kids,” or “All men should hunt” (mine doesn’t) or whatever blanket statements of ideology you want to throw out there.  Won’t say it.  Can’t say it.  LOATHE blanket statements of ideology. 

Here’s what I am saying:  Can you just lay OFF!  If a woman wants to knit or have dinner ready for her husband when he gets home or maintains an immaculate home (God KNOWS I don’t!!!), can’t we just say “Good for you!”  Instead of spouting off your comments and jokes that all root from your own insecurities, just say “That’s amazing!”  or “That’s really sweet of you.”  or “Wish I had time to get all the laundry done.”

And for those of you who think needle crafts (Needle crafts are things like sewing, knitting, crochet, embroidery… i.e., crafts done with a needle) are not cool, look at what needle crafting can do for the world:

http://www.alwaysbeautifulyou.com/?gclid=CLK__tWhgp4CFSENDQodgA5ApQ

http://www.headhuggers.org/

http://www.bcrfcure.org/part_comm_gr_quiltforacure.html

http://www.allfreecrafts.com/charity-crafts.shtml

Don’t take for granted a gift you’ve been given because someone made you feel like less of a person for enjoying it.  Put it to use.

So that’s all!  *steppin’ down from mah soapbox and bow*

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I was under the impression that four is easier than three.  So far, whoever told me that was a LIAR!  LIARLIARPANTSONFIRE!  It’s not easier.  It’s not harder.  It’s different.  For some reason, about 4 days before they turn four, they get imbued with some evil that is unbeknownst (yes, I said unbeknownst) to the parent.  Suddenly, they think they’re in charge of everyone and everything.  They scream more, are snarkier, have tantrums over the smallest things, and if they don’t get their way, they just stick their tongue out at you.  I thought this didn’t happen until about 13!  Again, I say LIARLIARPANTSONFIRE!

Coffee is nectar from teh gods! (if I worshipped thos gods, that is)  It’s still pretty damn good.  And it may be all that will get me through this day without murdering S. 

I just read a book called Jesus Loves You, this I know and, well, let’s just say that it was a very personal experience to read that book.  I have a review coming up this week discussing my personal experience reading the book.

Speaking of books, do you know if there are any that help you get through these next 16 years I’ve got coming up?  I really need the help.

MMMMM…. coffee.  I know I mentioned it before, but I just finished my delightfully sugary cup of the “wake up juice.”  We’ve discovered that a shot of chocolate syrup, International Delight Chocolate Caramel creamer, and a spoonful of sugar, in my Starbucks Pike Place Roast (awesome….. hallelujah choir’s singing for the Pike Place) is as yummy as getting a mocha at Starbucks for a FRACTION of the cost.  Mmmm, more please!

I cleaned my house last week.  The bathroom, the kitchen, the living room and even the desk.  If you came over today, you wouldn’t be able to tell, but I did it.  The proof is in the pictures and if you check back through last week’s posts, you’ll see the proof!

Why is it that kids do super cute things and as soon as you turn the camera on, they’ve stopped?  GAHHHHHH!  Maybe she’ll do it again and I can have it on for tomorrow’s post!

Heather, over at The Mother Tongue, and I have gone into cahoots to start a BlogapaLOSEa!  If you’re interested in finding out the rules, go here and sign up on the MckLinky, then send your VERY INEXPENSIVE ante over to Heather via PayPal at: heatherchapman (at) live (dot) com.  Once you do, you’ll get the code to put this nifty button onto your sidebar!  (All the rules are right there on the post!) If you want to know WHY I wanted to do this, read this! 

Sunday, Mr. B and I decided to recapture our youth and play outside on the Slip n Slide with the kids.  BIG MISTAKE!  I, personally, while going down the plastic, glorified, trash bag, thought I’d busted a rib, my pelvis, and possibly, that I’d ripped off one of my bewbs.  I didn’t break anything, but I did realize how out of shape I am.  Apparently, you use a lot of abdominal muscles to go down the glorified trash bag.  My stomach muscles are so sore that I was trying to cough last night and thought that I was going bust my C-section scar right open!  Mr. B cannot sit up without significant pain.  (I may make him join the BlogapaLOSEa too!  lol)  My triceps are on fire.  Picking up A is not even an option without ibuprofen.  *sigh*  Another reminder why this BlogapaLOSEa is happening!  Am. SO. Outta. Shape.  (or in shape, depending on how you look at it.  Round IS a shape, or so I’m told!)

That’s all for today’s Tuesday Randomness.  Head over to The Unmom’s site.  She’s super funny and super cute too!

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See the gleam on the desk. Oh yeah, I even Pledged it! So, you see, I have been working. Working on my house. Taking my mom to the grocery store for THREE FREAKING HOURS yesterday (which is where I was all day) and doing all the other fun things that are required of me on a daily basis. But there’s your teaser. More to follow tomorrow!

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Ever heard of a “putshit?”   This lovely phrase, coined by CPM, was introduced to me many, many months ago, standing outside Gateway Market, freezing our asses off after a knitting group.  I have used the phrase since and will use it forevermore.  (We thought about creating and marketing our own putshits but, as we’re the type to USE putshits we’re not the type to MAKE putshits.)  The function of the putshit is quite self-explanatory.  It’s the place where you, indeed, put shit. 

The corner of your desk.  The basket by the front door.  The drawer in the kitchen.  That closet in the hallway.  Or.  If you’re like me, and I know some of you are:  All Of the Frickin’ Above (and then some).  Not to mention, the space between the end table and the couch.  Under the desk.  On the whole desk.  The floor.  Whatever’s handy.  And it’s not that I’m lazy, neccessarily.  OK, a lot of it is, but a lot of it is the fact that I really hate doing things halfway.  When I clean, I organize, so if I don’t have time to organize, in my mind, I feel like I don’t have time to clean.  Sadly, this logic does not matter to my husband and he would like me to clean more, even if it’s halfway, which is total bullshit because I was watching the Today Show and it turns out that messiness is called “hoarding” and it’s an illness.  Really.

Well, after a day and a half of cleaning in the living room, I have my desk/craft space organized.  All the stuff that was in my various putshits put away where they belong (or where they now belong) or thrown away.  I actually threw away quite a bit of stuff I was hanging onto.  See, hoarding. 

Tomorrow is the kitchen, and while I plan on starting the laundry this weekend and working on getting it actually folded and actually put away, the chances of the basement looking any better is just not going to happen.  Especially since the laundry you saw was only about half of the laundry I need to do and put away.  Anyone wanna take pity on a sick, swollen, gal and fold and put away clothes for me?  No?  Fine.  I’ll do it myself.  I’m just glad the kitchen won’t take nearly as long as the living room did. 

So, my word isn’t complete shit.  Really.  I’m going to post pics of my nice, clean living room, organized desk, and gleaming kitchen.  I’m asking for an extension on the basement!  I need TIME!  (Inserst appropriate Rolling Stones song here, except it’s not on my side)…. so, let’s say 2 weeks.  Two weeks from this Wednesday you’ll have my clean basement.  someone please remind me next week that I have a week left, cuz I’ll forget I made this promise.  Ok?  Okthanksbye.

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I need your support here. This is accountability time. Gah! My HOUSE is a WRECK! I know what most of you will say:

“You’ve been so ill.” “That’s nothing compared to my house” “Your kids are taking up all your time.” True. All True. (Well, except that “it’s nothing compared to my house” part. I’ve never seen your house.) But here’s the thing. I’m often not cleaning. Even when I have the time, I take it to do other things that are really of far lesser value than assuming the responsibilities that I have.

So, I’m going to show you three of my rooms. Next week I’m going to show you the same three rooms, cleaned up. I figure if I show you my pig sty and don’t show it to you all cleaned up a week later, then my word means NOTHING!

You might see me here and there on Twitter (especially over the weekend, cuz I’m really hoping to be done by Saturday afternoon). I’m even unplugging the computer until 7:30. I figure: Outta sight outta mind, right? Let’s hope.

So here we go. The proof of my momfail:

The Basement/Laundry area

Kitchen area:

The living room

And the real piece of work, MY DESK!

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