Keepin' It Real

I don’t know if it’s the hormones or just an inner demon that’s been dying to get out, but I’ve been a Class A biyatch lately. This month has been an ongoing challenge that doesn’t seem to end. First it was Ava and her fussiness; now the husband. Before I start my “cyber therapy”, I’d first like to address any naysayers that advise not to air my dirty laundry: shove it.

Maybe if everyone were to air their dirty laundry once in a while and keep it real, then the world would be a better place. Forget how you want to appear in front of others and just be. The blogs or articles that I love the most are the ones I can relate to. The ones that discuss the perfect reality of happy rainbows, puppies and kittens are just plain boring. Not to mention fake. I feel a connection in the stories that tap into the rawest of human emotions, which may be an uncomfortable and awkward place to be; but one we all share. And it often times falls into the extreme ends of emotions like happiness, sadness, and even anger. It has only been recently that I could pride myself as being a passionate person that can express all my happiness, sadness, and anger. For those who understand, thank you for putting up with it. For those who don't, I apologize if I offend you with my openness and honesty. I believe that life should be lived with the good, the bad, and the ugly. And what's better than to have people to share it with. It would be unfortunate to have to repress and hide your feelings away like a disease. Work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt, dance like no one's watching, and live like it's heaven on earth. And blog like no one's reading...hehe.

And since life is such, here I go again…

First off, I need to vent. Big time. Besides having a fussy baby (for the most part), I feel as though my role as wife has somehow morphed into a role of being a mother TO EVERYONE. This is not okay. I got married to be a wife/friend/confidant NOT a second mother. Kent, I love you to death and would walk through brimstone and fire for you, but HELL NO, you need to start picking up the slack and getting it together. Rather than bitch about this and that, I’m going to be efficient (as time is not a luxury I have these days) and bullet point the things that drive me nuts. Why, you ask, am I doing this? We’ve had discussions and motivational speeches to no success, so now you can refer to this list when you forget.

1. The little piles of STUFF everywhere. Please consolidate it to one area or put things back where they belong. I don’t like finding a little rat nest of coins, wooden golf tees, receipts and gum wrappers here and there, thank you very much.

2. Put away your laundry, damnit. What’s the point of even folding everything and leaving it in a basket for you to put away, when it just sits in the proverbial rat nest of clothes in our walk in closet. *sigh*

3. Wipe down the sink after you shave. I don’t particularly like seeing itty bitty pieces of hair meshed in with toothpaste first thing in the morning. DIS.CUS.TING.

4. Have the courtesy to turn back the radio dial to the original volume and station after you use my car. Surprises like hearing the radio on full volume blasting reggae music after I successfully transfer a sleeping baby into the car is not my idea of a good time.

5. Wash the dishes. Just like that. WASH. THE. DISHES. Rinsing the fork and plate under running water is not considering washing the dishes. When there is still an oily film on the plate, it is not clean, FYI.

6. Be direct. Just ask me to buy specific stuff at the grocery store rather than sneaking in a little comment like, “Are we all out of yogurt? Yogurt for breakfast would be nice. I like vanilla yogurt. I heard Trader Joes has some good vanilla yogurt.” Omg, just tell me to buy the fricken yogurt.

7. Answer your phone. Read your email. Stay connected to the rest of the world via YOURSELF. I am not your secretary. Repeat - I AM NOT YOUR SECRETARY.

8. Stop looking at my Facebook. If you want to lurk, open your own account.

9. Tell me when you think you’ll be home after work. Yes, I know I am not your keeper, but giving me a heads up will allow me to plan for dinner and run my errands. You, yourself said that you liked coming home to a warm house with dinner on the table. That can be the norm if you just tell me when I can expect you home.

10. Don’t ask me for my honest opinion, if you don’t want to hear my honest opinion. I am not a bullshitter and you know it. I know when to be polite, but come on, you know I like to keep it real.

That’s all. I feel so much better now. Peace out until next time.