I'm writing this with a headache, so it may or not make any sense, and it most definitely will not be cohesive. I apologize to that horrible English teacher I had in high school w/the disgusting morning/coffee breath of death who tried so hard to make me write well. Maybe if she'd focused more time on some Scope, my blog would be better.
When does the time come when we stop being parents and become Dad and The Only Woman In The House? With only sons, I try to walk that tightrope of not making them think of the opposite sex as wrong or shameful. According to Jay, though, it's wrong for them to see anything having to do with bras or undies. In my opinion, though, I think technically if he really didn't want them exposed to my feminine side, then he should've just had a gay partner all along instead of me. I know the house would be cleaner if he had.
Anyway, I have to hide my girl stuff. But I also have to get stuff done. How do I still be Mom and also still be Me, especially when Me believes undies look nothing like wearing a tankini to the beach and refuses to wear granny panties ever? So when it comes time for laundry, what's a mom-girl to do? Wash each kid's stuff separately so they can pretend their mom wears no underwear? Isn't that even worse? I'm not just a female, I'm also frugal - I can't stand seeing a load of laundry that consists of 5 socks and 1 shirt (which is how boys think laundry is done). I don't want to raise boys who are helpless, but I also don't want to raise boys who become Norman Bates. How do I force them to help out by sorting laundry if there's the chance they're gonna find my boy shorts mixed in with, well, boy shorts? Are they going to grow up to be warped or washer-challenged? Which are their future wives going to hate me more for?
Queen of my own Magic Kingdom, full of all the irreverent, obnoxious, and sometimes offensive sarcasm you know and love. I don't care what people think of me, but I do care if you like my blog. Read, forward, repeat.
