I Do Stand-Up Comedy!

2016 is my year. It's my year to do whuteverthehell I want. Whuteverthehell! So, I chose stand-up comedy. Whuuuuut???

That's me!

I Quit Homeschooling

"My oldest is really advanced." The elementary principle rolled his eyes at me. "Every parent thinks that," he said. "I know, but, just test her," I replied.

Source

Mom, where's your fun self?

The fun, daring part of me was lost and buried when my new identity became "Mom."

As a young, naïve mom, I expected myself to find complete satisfaction in life by cooking, cleaning and tending to my sweet babies 24/7, all between the walls of my little home. Like so many other moms, I thought it was selfish to do things by myself and for myself. Have you ever felt this way?

After 4 years of full-time, serious motherhood, I wasn't vibrant or vivacious anymore. I wasn't excited or interesting.

Painting ceramics without kids at Color Me Mine with my sis-in-law.

I mean, I used to be fun! What happened to that girl?!

Does your husband clean? (Revised)

Dear Cinderella,
        Let's discuss gender rules. Why is it that my husband spouts how he isn't one of those 1960's husbands who feels its soley the wife's duty to clean, and yet there's only about once a month it occurs to him that he, too, is responsible for the task of keeping our home clean?
        Pointing out this fact is dangerous and usually ignites a fight which will generally end in one extra day of effort from Prince Charming to place his pants somewhere other than the back of my dining room chair.
        I have a good man. He is hard-working. He is honest, kind and a great father to my children. However, there are times I wonder if I'm alone in my desire for him to help me clean. Many nights, I'll wait for him to sleep before I begin, because cleaning while he merely sits on the couch reading or watching TV generally makes me just more bitter. Am I alone? Am I having a wave of crazy irrationality and need to step back?

—The Scullery Maid

Dear Sculley,

Please excuse me, but I am revising my previous* answer to your question. My husband and I talked this evening and I realized my initial response didn't account for his view of our situation.

So, I think the only way to truly describe how we resolved it, is to bring him in on this one.

Let me first say that from my perspective, I'd beaten this topic into the ground. I had come at my man from every angle, begging for help around the house. I tried being kind and sweet. I cried. I got angry. I tried to ignore it. Nothing had any lasting change. I would always end up sucking it up and cleaning by myself, feeling alone, forgotten and resentful.

Buried alive

Today, the walls around me are caving in. I want to cry. My chest is tight.

I try so hard to be kind, thoughtful, forgiving, compassionate and mostly, nonjudgmental. I really am a good person with a very open heart.

It crushes me, though, when someone sees my messy, chaotic home. It feels like my home is seen as a direct reflection of my character; that when it's filthy, it must mean I'm a slob; that when it's in shambles, it means I'm not caring for my kids.

Mom Exhibit: Another mom fights the dust

I'm not alone! My girl, Deb, sent me this email the other night and I just about peed my pants. Let's give a shout-out to our newest Mom Exhibit contributor. I know she'll feel welcome here!

My name is Deborah — and I am the mother of a messy house.

For 6 years, my family and I lived in a fabulous neighborhood. I was surrounded by amazing people, and yet...I can count on my left hand the number of people I ever invited INto my house. And I know of only ONE person whom I ever felt 100% at ease with just "dropping" by at any time.

Holiday meltdown: Mom Exhibit

Girl. Let me tell you.

I. am. pooped.

I've got one of those haven't-slept-well-in-nights headaches and my shoulders are so heavy. For the past 2 days, I've wanted to post about a million different things.

But, then I remember the whites that have been soaking in the washer for 2 days when it was only supposed to be over night, the dishwasher that has sat 1/2 full and the dirty ones in the sink I could just throw in real quick to get it started, the vacuum I need to pick up from the repair shop (30 min away) so I can finally clear the carpet of the 3-week-old food chunks, the gifts I still need to make for Christmas, the wrapping (ooohhh the wrapping—worst part, right?), the car that we still can't drive because it needs to go to the shop (it's been sitting in the driveway for close to 3 months), the realization that the kids have no clean winter clothes as of 4 days ago.

Tis the season.

It's too much to think about. So, sorry—it felt like too much for me to take a pic of the house, hook up the camera to the computer, download pics, edit lighting in Photoshop, save the image and upload to blogger. Just look back at other Mom Exhibit posts. Nothing's changed.

Take this, Charlie Brown: Mom Exhibit

Oh, Christmas tree...

You're looking pretty pathetic these days...pretty sparse on the bottom half. The girl's constantly rearranging and the boy whacks at ya with drum sticks. Your surroundings don't help.

What matters most, though, is that you're loved. Mostly loved. Because the girl "likes everything except for one thing: the bow on top." "Because I hate bows," she says.

So moms, don't stress or apologize to visitors. We understand. You tried to make it look nice. There's a time and season for everything. And this season isn't the season for Martha Stewart-esque decor.

Link up below and show me your "kid-proof" tree. Click the link below, "Click here to enter."

Down under: Mom Exhibit

Deep down under the dining table, lying in the dark abyss of the ocean floor, live undiscovered, unclassified beings. Some are quickly ingested by the local carpet creatures. Others lurk, waiting to embed bare feet with their sharp, stinging edges.

Put down your toilet wands: Mom Exhibit

I've had a breakthrough.

Follow me. The other day, my girl, Kim, gave a great tip. Set a timer for 10-15 minutes, clean with the kids as fast as you can and then be done for the day. And then, in a moment of silence and pondering, the heavens opened and a ray of light shone down upon my face, illuminating the grease in my hair from several days of not showering.

Don't go upstairs! Mom Exhibit

I love having friends in my home, especially if I know you're coming. I'll usually tidy the living room a bit and make sure there's nothing gross in the visible areas, like a stinky diaper.

However, there are no words to describe the nauseated feeling I get when you have to run upstairs "real quick" to grab your child. This little commercial clip portrays it perfectly:

Messy house on display!

Are you ready for this?! Imagine getting a candid, un-edited look into the home of an everyday mom. Yes, I appear to have it all together. But, I want to show you what's really going on behind the scenes. Why on earth would I do this? More on that tomorrow.

The "Mom Exhibit" will be open December 1-31, 2011. Feature one of my buttons on your site and I'll do the same for you. Email your button info to cinderelladuty@gmail.com.

<a href="http://cinderelladuty.blogspot.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1135.photobucket.com/albums/m631/cinderelladuty/momexhibitnowopen.png" alt="CinderellaDuty" width="150" height="150" /></a>

<a href="http://cinderelladuty.blogspot.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1135.photobucket.com/albums/m631/cinderelladuty/messyhouseondisplay.png" alt="CinderellaDuty" width="150" height="150" /></a>

How I ALMOST ruined my kid

When my first child was born, I felt the responsibility to tend to her every need, be her best friend and playmate, jump at her every request, take her to weekly story time at the library, join playgroups so she could have friends. I decided that, come hell or high water, I was going to be the best mom this little girl could ever have.

Moms, will you help?

Call for all moms to share their true postpartum stories!

I want to gather women's experiences about their emotional journey after the births of their babies. I know I'm not the only one out there with a story. How have you truly felt since the birth of your little one? What have you done to help? What has worked? What hasn't?

Have a day!

You know those conversations where you and a friend try to find common ground by admitting how you both have bad days? Your friend is all, "Yeah, I didn't shower until noon two days ago. I was so lazy! I spent all morning cleaning out and organizing my hall closet after I laundered and pressed my curtains." And then you reply, "Jeez, don't I know it! Today, I didn't get cleaned up until two o'clock because I was doing housework..." Look down and away and feel bad about yourself because you just LIED!

No shame here

This morning around 10am, my doorbell rang.

My first thought: "Crap."
My second thought: "Who could it be?"
My third thought: "Good thing I got dressed today."
My fourth thought as I open the door: "Oops! I forgot she was coming over...to make salsa...in my messing kitchen."
My fifth thought: "Oh well. Rock the mess."