my inner housewife has a hangover
First, the REALLY good news: everyone in my house slept ALL NIGHT LONG. In their own beds. I know! I can't believe it either. Remember the first time the baby slept through the night and you woke up in the morning CONVINCED he had died? When I snapped awake at 5:53 this morning, I thought my whole family had been wiped out. But no! We just all . . . slept. It was marvellous.
While we were sleeping, the Tooth Fairy paid Henry a visit; he got out of bed this morning and went running down the hall yelling, "Guys! GUYS! LOOK! The Tooth Fairy left me a DOLLAR!"
No, it was a five, but whatever.
Somehow the loss of the first baby tooth has turned Wade and me into GrownUps, in the I-walked-five-miles-both-ways-in-the-snow-everyday way. Henry was admiring his fiver this morning and Charlie was fussing that HE wanted five dollars, TOO, and Wade said, "Buddy, when I was a kid, the tooth fairy brought a QUARTER for each tooth."
Henry said seriously, "A quarter is a LOT, Daddy." Hoo, we nearly fell off the sofa laughing at that one.
An hour later, Wade's mom stopped by on her way to work to bring Henry five MORE dollars (and a dollar for Charlie), and SHE said, "When I was a little girl, the Tooth Fairy used to bring me a DIME when I lost a tooth."
By now, Henry had gotten smarter, and he said, "Okay, Mimi, but I got FIVE dollars. And then YOU brought me five dollars, so now I have ELEVEN dollars." (He does, actually--he had a random dollar in his desk, left over from my half-assed attempt last summer to give the boys an allowance so that they would STOP PESTERING ME to buy them things. Totally didn't work, by the way. I currently owe each of them about $100.00 in back allowance, which I have already spent on shoes, so let's not remind them of it, okay? Okay!)
Last night, when Henry was getting ready for bed, he and Wade were working out where exactly he was going to leave the tooth so that the Tooth Fairy could easily find it and Henry said, "I think I will leave it on the table by my bed."
"Great idea, buddy."
"Because THEN, if the Tooth Fairy brings me a TOY she can leave IT on the table, too!"
Unfortunately, the Tooth Fairy had decided that the lost tooth was a good excuse to have a glass of wine or two during Clifford and then she spent an hour e-mailing with her friends about how we're all going to hell because we're such terrible mothers which lead to more wine and then her husband came home and made dinner and offered to put the kids to bed which gave her some time tokeep e-mailing keep drinking get some work done and so by bed time she was in no shape to go to SuperTarget for a toy; fortunately, she HAD gone to the bank and had cash, so it all worked out fine. (Wade came home and said, "Do you have any small bills? Because I only have twenties, and that seems like a lot.")
Anyway, I'm feeling very grown up and housewifeish today, if only because I have a baby tooth in my jewelery box, which is TOTALLY a mom thing. And this morning, I was bustling around loading the laundry and the dishwasher and wiping the table and making the beds while the boys watched Sesame Street (shut up, I hate coming home at lunch to a disastrous house so I do all that stuff in the morning) and I realized that I was doing my chores in a skirt and pearls.
Look at me, I'm Donna Reed! Okay, yeah, the skirt is from Old Navy and the pearls are a funky choker that I wear all the time and I have flip flops on, not dressy pumps and my hair is sticking up in twenty different directions, so I look less like Donna Reed and more like . . . ummm, whatever the housewife opposite of Donna Reed is. And Donna Reed probably wouldn't have slapped five bucks on her kid's nightstand (no envelope! or note! just the empty Tooth Fairy Box on top, so he knew what the five was for!) or plunked her kids in front of the TV to get her housework done. But still! Feeling a little housewifey today! I might even VACUUM later! With a martini in my free hand, of course.
With that in mind, go watch this clip of Caitlin Flanagan on The Colbert Report. Believe me, your inner housewife will need a martini, too.
While we were sleeping, the Tooth Fairy paid Henry a visit; he got out of bed this morning and went running down the hall yelling, "Guys! GUYS! LOOK! The Tooth Fairy left me a DOLLAR!"
No, it was a five, but whatever.
Somehow the loss of the first baby tooth has turned Wade and me into GrownUps, in the I-walked-five-miles-both-ways-in-the-snow-everyday way. Henry was admiring his fiver this morning and Charlie was fussing that HE wanted five dollars, TOO, and Wade said, "Buddy, when I was a kid, the tooth fairy brought a QUARTER for each tooth."
Henry said seriously, "A quarter is a LOT, Daddy." Hoo, we nearly fell off the sofa laughing at that one.
An hour later, Wade's mom stopped by on her way to work to bring Henry five MORE dollars (and a dollar for Charlie), and SHE said, "When I was a little girl, the Tooth Fairy used to bring me a DIME when I lost a tooth."
By now, Henry had gotten smarter, and he said, "Okay, Mimi, but I got FIVE dollars. And then YOU brought me five dollars, so now I have ELEVEN dollars." (He does, actually--he had a random dollar in his desk, left over from my half-assed attempt last summer to give the boys an allowance so that they would STOP PESTERING ME to buy them things. Totally didn't work, by the way. I currently owe each of them about $100.00 in back allowance, which I have already spent on shoes, so let's not remind them of it, okay? Okay!)
Last night, when Henry was getting ready for bed, he and Wade were working out where exactly he was going to leave the tooth so that the Tooth Fairy could easily find it and Henry said, "I think I will leave it on the table by my bed."
"Great idea, buddy."
"Because THEN, if the Tooth Fairy brings me a TOY she can leave IT on the table, too!"
Unfortunately, the Tooth Fairy had decided that the lost tooth was a good excuse to have a glass of wine or two during Clifford and then she spent an hour e-mailing with her friends about how we're all going to hell because we're such terrible mothers which lead to more wine and then her husband came home and made dinner and offered to put the kids to bed which gave her some time to
Anyway, I'm feeling very grown up and housewifeish today, if only because I have a baby tooth in my jewelery box, which is TOTALLY a mom thing. And this morning, I was bustling around loading the laundry and the dishwasher and wiping the table and making the beds while the boys watched Sesame Street (shut up, I hate coming home at lunch to a disastrous house so I do all that stuff in the morning) and I realized that I was doing my chores in a skirt and pearls.
Look at me, I'm Donna Reed! Okay, yeah, the skirt is from Old Navy and the pearls are a funky choker that I wear all the time and I have flip flops on, not dressy pumps and my hair is sticking up in twenty different directions, so I look less like Donna Reed and more like . . . ummm, whatever the housewife opposite of Donna Reed is. And Donna Reed probably wouldn't have slapped five bucks on her kid's nightstand (no envelope! or note! just the empty Tooth Fairy Box on top, so he knew what the five was for!) or plunked her kids in front of the TV to get her housework done. But still! Feeling a little housewifey today! I might even VACUUM later! With a martini in my free hand, of course.
With that in mind, go watch this clip of Caitlin Flanagan on The Colbert Report. Believe me, your inner housewife will need a martini, too.
17 Comments:
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Amen to all of that, sista!
I have a secret desire to be Donna Reed. If only it didn't require all of that preparation.
Donna Reed would never have had a blog, though.
Why do I have this overwhelming urge to shoot Caitlin between the eyes?
Thanks for the tooth fairy money on the nightstand tip. I may have to start with a quarter, though. Excitement over a quarter is STILL excitement.
Yay for Henry! Now I know who I can go to for a loan.
Herr and I were cleaning out our closet last night and I came across two ADORABLE skirts that I had forgotten I had. I looked at Herr and said, "Well, where am I ever going to wear these?"
He told me that I could wear them to vacuum and to hold his glass of scotch at the front door when he comes home. Actually, it would be beer, but you get the picture.
Shit, my inner housewife needs a PITCHER of martinis. Also a set of electric clippers, as I suspect Caitlin's source of power is her bizarrely swoopy hair. Were we to buzz-cut her, maybe she would shut up. Or join us on the dark side where, you know, women CAN CHOOSE WHEN AND WHERE TO SHARE THEIR BODIES. GAH.
Too funny! Thanks for the laugh!
Wait, I want pictures.
Is your camera still down? Down the way my frakkin' blog is down because of DOS attacks?
Congrats on the first lost tooth! Woo hoo!
This means that you are old.
This does NOT mean you are old. Old is when your child starts high school, no, graduates high school, no, starts having sex, no... I don't know when "old" starts, but it most certainly does not start when a five-year-old loses a tooth. He has his whole life ahead of him for you to get old in!!!
I'm really liking that to Henry $5 could be $1, could be 25 cents, because he's got, what, 28 or 32 teeth in there, (I always forget which), and at $5/tooth, that's a lot of money!
I am convinced that Caitlin MUST be playing up her role because no one could be THAT crazy. I saw that show on my DVR and immediately had to re-watch it just to confirm that she really did say what I thought she said! Straight-up wacked!
And I do all of my chores in the morning, too!
Callie, I watched the clip THREE TIMES because OH MY GOD did she REALLY SAY THAT?
But yes! She did.
And now Lucinda has me thinking about what Donna Reed's blog would be like . . .
I still check in on my almost teen ager every morning just to make sure he is still alive, the panic never really goes away.
I love those days when the Inner June Cleaver just grips me. I can't wait to get a vaccuum in my paws. Yummy! Hand me a martini!
I, too, had to re-watch that "Colbert Report" clip to try to make sense of it, of whether she was deranged or just awkwardly trying to be "with it".
I think she's poisonous, but I do feel sorry for her a bit. Reading her little "my husband carried me in his arms because I was too ill from chemo to walk and if I get that kind of treatment from cooking all those dinners and that's an old-fashioned marriage, I'll take it," I just felt bad. I can't imagine feeling so unworthy of love, you know?
Loved that post. The tooth fairy has been here about 5 times in the last month, and she is flat broke. (Though, she only gives half-dollars. She needs to go to the bank tomorrow b/c another tooth will be falling out by tomorrow)
A skirt? With flip flops? That is the only way to do it! Perhaps I'll don one tomorrow and get the motivation I need to be housewifery.
Goodness, we have enough teeth now to make a necklace. We actually have started THROWING THEM AWAY. The teeth actually creep me out a little bit.
But! There have been 2 (2!!) times we have forgotten to leave money. The first time was for S. and she came in crying - "Mommy, the tooth fairy forgot me!" And I (in my wisdom) told her that the tooth fairy probably couldn't see in her room very well, and maybe even tripped over the crap on the floor. (Not my proudest moment.) S. looked at me and said, "Well, the tooth fairy needs to get contacts!" It all worked out in the end.
The second time was with G. She just kind of rolled her eyes and said, "Mom, the 'TOOTH FAIRY' needs to leave me money tonight, OK?"
As for Donna Reed? I have been wearing skirts lately and everyone keeps asking me why I am so dressed up. Which makes me wonder how awful I have looked otherwise...
Okay, I just finally got a chance to watch that Caitlin Flanagan clip. Oh my god. She's psycho.
good god, woman you crack me up... even when you write about the sad and hard stuff.
BTW- word verification for the warped: fvucfck
uh huh. that's what i'm sayin'
The hair was, admittedly, a complete disaster. There is no excuse for the hair. There is however, an EXPLANATION for the hair. But again - no excuse. Susan: your purchase has been put to good use. The hair has been tamed.
What can I say? Bad, bad, bad hair.
Ladies: you don't sugarcoat, and I respect that. Bad hair - no matter where it is to be found - is problematic.
Caitlin, is that you? Seriously, bad hair aside, if that's you, e-mail me! Let's talk! Not about the hair--about the book, and the theory, and the whole houswife thing.
Seriously. Let's get past the hair.
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