Today we’re very happy to welcome one of Wendi’s IRL BFFs OMG Maria Escamilla! Maria just started a blog called Postcards From Texas and regularly writes very funny things on there. Well, she does when she’s not at the movies with Wendi yelling, “Boo!” and throwing popcorn at the Glenn Beck ads, anyway. Thank you for your advice today, Maria!
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My husband and I were married 6 years ago, when we were both in our early 20s and really hot. I had a baby 6 months ago and still have some weight to lose. I don’t feel very hot by any means now.
We’ve always had a great sex life, but I currently have no sex drive for my husband at all. I don’t know if it’s my hormones or what, but I don’t find myself attracted to him. He’s grown a beard and gained about 90 lbs. in the last 18 months. Like I said, I’m not the hottest little thing either, but this is just uncharted territory. Any advice? We’ve only made love a handful since the baby was born.
In a Pickle
Dear In a Pickle,
First of all, congratulations and welcome to the “No Sex Club”! I myself have been a card carrying member for the last 10 years and honey, it ain’t that bad! Accept it. Move On. In fact, move on to Comfort Theme Nights such as: “Snuggle Under Our Matching Snuggies Night” or “Massage My Feet While They Are Resting on Your Belly Night.”
I realize that those aren’t as exciting as newlywed sex games like “The Plumber and the Distressed Housewife” where your husband asks you what number pipe you need inserted into your deep sink. But I’m sorry to say that those games are over for you for about 13 years. Because that’s when your baby will have grown into a sullen teenager who’ll hunker down in his room while you and your husband moan as loud two feral cats in heat. That’s the beauty of teenagers; they don’t give a shit!
You don’t owe it to your husband to give him sex either, especially after you pushed out a baby 6 months ago. You most likely also pushed out any romantic feelings you had for him when you noticed he saw your placenta and all that other gunk that came out of your vagina. Who would feel romantic after that? Let him have his Beard and Belly Teddy Bear phase and in 13 years, here is what you do: start to sign up for marathons, train together, get sweaty together, get gorgeous and fit together, then go have mad sex in a Porta-Potty after running 23 miles. It will be such a high, you won’t even believe you two used to be in the “No Sex Club.”
Good luck girl!
Maria Escamilla, Guest TMH
She’s baaaa-aack! Nicole of Ninja Mom Blog is back at the Mouthy Clubhouse today, and we couldn’t be happier to have her. (And not just because she always brings the best wine, doesn’t mind Karen’s shoe hoarding, and has some ideas for new dog breeds that I hope will make
me her millions. Though, those things help.) –Kristine, TMH
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My husband has a huge issue with our neighbors and their daughter. My 5 year old daughter has befriended the neighbor girl and I, the parents. At first he was kind to them and would even invite them over. But,for some reason, he has decided not to like the daughter and the mother.
First issue is: He has made it very obvious that he does not like the child that comes here to play. He has been rude – by not even saying “hello” or acknowledging her when she is here. It has become a tense situation for my daughter as she has figured out that the neighbor friend must leave before Dad gets home. It is even starting to make me nervous.
Second issue: He does not like any time that I might spend with the parents. He says she is a bad influence and that he just plain does not like them, though has never explained to me why he feels that way.
It has come to the point that if my husband knows that my daughter and I are socializing with the neighbors, he won’t come home. It is such a sore spot with the two of us and is really putting a huge wedge into our relationship. How do I get over this issue, without taking it personally? These are actually very nice people. Educated, hard working. They are polite and very kind to our children. I just do not know what to do anymore.
Dear Crescent (rolls? moon? –shaped scar?),
Husbands! Can’t live with them, can’t marry women in most states here in the USofA. So, you’ll have to juggle the ever contentious marital game, Family Dating.
Do you know this game? Remember back to when you two were just a couple? You’d meet a nice woman: you liked her shoes, she made you laugh, she forgot cranberries, too?! Then you started asking about her husband. Did he golf? Ski? Swill beer? Shoot kittens? So did your husband! And so you tried to couple date them. Alas, often the relationship would fizzle between two parties before it fizzled between the other two. (Wife: “I don’t want to see them anymore. She’s always dropping comments about my muffin top.” Husband: “But he has a man cave!”)
Now that you have kids, it’s a thousand times worse. Umpteen more things can go awry. There are way too many people involved for all parties to remain enamored of each other. Really, it would be easier if you just stopped socializing altogether and gave your DVR a human family identity, like, The Hackenberrys. “Babe, want to see what the Hackenberrys are doing tonight?”
But, that way lies madness and a lack of playdates for your children who rarely want to visit with the Hackenberrys when only the Bachelor remains in your queue. You, as a functioning human, require interaction with other members of your species.
So, what to do?
I think it’s time to ask your husband, point-blank, what it is he doesn’t like about these folks. You say “it’s very obvious” and that he “plain does not like them,” but if you were to ask him to elaborate, perhaps you’d discover his bias? Maybe he suspects them of being alien lifeforms, terrorists, or Ron Paul supporters. But, frankly, there aren’t that many Ron Paul supporters.
Maybe he’s witnessed some bad behavior that he thinks is inappropriate or even dangerous, especially when it comes to your daughter. Maybe he’s just not happy about how much family time you are spending with them and would like some more time with just the three of you. The truth is that speculating will get you nowhere. It’s time to talk with each other openly.
That said, I’m wondering if I’m sensing something slightly more controlling going on. Because if he is flatly refusing to tell you why he thinks so terribly of these people—and behaving so poorly about it, I might add—then you probably have more to worry about than who you hang out with outside the walls of your own home. If he feels so strongly as to be passive aggressive around children, the logical connection is that he’d want his own wife and child to know the reason.
Good luck! And I hope the alien probings aren’t painful!
Nicole, Guest TMH
Today I’m thrilled to welcome Peyton Price as our guest poster! Peyton is the author of the hilarious and touching Suburban Haiku book series where she gives readers a taste of her life in the suburbs in haiku form. (Not an easy thing to do, that.) There have been many, many times I thought she was standing over my shoulder at a soccer game because I relate to 99% of what she writes. Peyton is observant, funny and an all-around great gal and her advice today is spot on. Find her on her blog Suburban Haiku and on Twitter as @suburbanhaiku. Thank you, Peyton! — Wendi
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
As a middle-age mom of two, I’m writing to ask if there is a certain age when a woman shouldn’t wear skinny jeans. I mean, if you still have the figure at 40 to wear them, is it ok? Do skinny jeans and driving a minivan full of kids go together? Or is that a paradox that would cause a galactic implosion? I want to wear the new style, but I’m worried I’ll look like a mom who’s trying too hard to forget her age and laugh lines. Advice?
Skinny Jeans Here I Come…Or Not
I am so glad that the Mouthy Housewives sent me your question because (1) I spent the better part of last Saturday trying on jeans and completely empathize with your dilemma and (2) I am a bossy busybody.
It’s tough out there for a fashionable 40ish mom. Your instinct to keep up with the times is a good one. Nothing says “I give up” like locking into a trend that’s come and gone. I’m looking at you, moms with fanny packs and scrunchies. You know what Heidi says—In fashion, you’re either een, or you’re aut. When it comes to skinny jeans you can count yourself een.
But here’s the skinny: You have find the right pair. Don’t worry. I’m here to help you with a simple set of rules and a few insider tips on age appropriate shopping.
Rules: Your skinnies must fit. If your jeans are so tight that people walking behind you can make out your varicose veins, find another pair. Avoid muffin top, whale tail, plumber’s crack, camel toe—anything with a nickname is a no-no. To check the fit, move around in the dressing room: Can you sit down? Bend over? Climb into the minivan? Kick a pair of dirty socks down the stairs without spilling hot coffee on the baby? If your answer to all these questions is yes, I really need to get one of those jobs behind the 2-way mirror.
Age Appropriate Shopping Tips: Do not shop in Juniors. That’s just embarrassing for everyone involved. (Why is the music so so LOUD?) It might be tempting to go ahead and try something on when you’re there shopping with your daughter anyway, but believe me, no one wants to see Mom hogging the three-way mirror and asking “Can I pull this off?” (Skinny jeans are literally hard to pull off—on account of the feet getting stuck.) Just say no to butt Beadazzling, pink sparkles, butterflies, and any embellishment with a face, no matter how totes adorbs that Hello Kitty is.
Instead, take the escalator up to the mom department, where the skinnies are cut high enough that you won’t have to debate whether to go tucked or untucked (tummy-wise, not shirt-wise). Look for skinnies with a little Spandex to flatter your best assets (pun intended, get it?). If you find yourself in the hosiery department eying those pajama jean legging things, turn back, you’ve gone too far.
Speaking as a fitting room survivor, I know you can find the perfect pair. Go forth and rock the look, Mama. Let’s celebrate our fashion savvy with a haiku:
Check out the rear view.
If you start feeling cheeky
give a smack: “Good job!”
Yours in fashion,
Peyton Price, Guest TMH
If you went to BlogHer this year, you would have see this super gorgeous redhead running around. And if looking like Princess Ariel isn’t enough, Shari (AKA Dusty Earth Mother) is also an extremely funny, talented writer. And did we mention she’s super nice?! Man, it’s exhausting just naming all her amazing qualities. The Mouthy Housewives are delighted to have Shari guest posting today and in return are happy to house sit her adorable pugs anytime. As long as they walk themselves and eat bon bons for dinner.
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My best friend and I have been friends for 25 years. She has never married and hasn’t really dated anyone for a couple of years. Lately she has started seeing married men. When all this started she asked me how I felt about it and I just told her that she’s an adult and can make her own decisions.
The problem is that she keeps telling me all the gory details about what she’s doing with these loser guys. I’m happily married and can’t help but be sympathetic toward their wives. At this point is it too late to tell my friend that I think what she’s doing is disgusting? I really value her friendship and don’t want to lose her.
My Best Friend is Gross, But I Still Love Her
Dear My Best Friend is Gross,
Yep, this is a tricky situation. This is trickier than just telling your friend she has spinach in her teeth. Trickier than telling her she has toilet paper on her shoe. Trickier than telling her she’s disgusting for sleeping with married men. Oh. Wait. It’s not trickier than that.
So! Let’s practice, shall we? Let’s imagine a conversation between you and another random single woman participating in a perhaps unwise affair with a married man.
YOU: Okay, something’s been bothering me for a while and I need to talk to you about it.
ALEX FORREST, GLENN CLOSE’S CHARACTER FROM “FATAL ATTRACTION”: Oh, what is it?
YOU: Well, it’s… um… can you put that down? It’s distracting me.
ALEX: *chopping onions with foot-long butcher knife* But then how can I make you your favorite omelet for our weekly girls’ brunch that we’ve been doing for 25 years?
YOU: Uh… 25 years. We’ve been friends a long time.
ALEX: Yes, we have. Even though you went off and got happily married and I’m alone and bereft and my reproductive organs are drying up. *lifts rabbit from small cage next to stove, wrings its neck, drops it into boiling water, adds bay leaf* So what did you want to talk about?
YOU: Well… I should have said this a long time ago… I just don’t think it’s right for you to be sleeping with Michael Douglas’s character Dan Gallagher. He’s married and I can’t help but feel badly for—what are you doing?
ALEX: *turns lamp on* I just want to see– *turns lamp off* –if the person who’s saying this– *turns lamp on* –and judging me– *turns lamp off* — – is really my friend of 25 years– *turns lamp on*
YOU: Stop it! It’s because I’m your friend that I’m saying this! And I’m not judging you! Well, except for wearing that white dress with no bra, because it makes your nipples all weird and pokey, but other than that, this is not a judgment!
ALEX: *pouring hydrochloric acid on western omelet* I’m lonely! You can’t understand that because you have someone!
YOU: That’s not true! I do understand! You think that just because I’m married, I’m not lonely at times?! — *cell phone rings* –oh, crap, it’s the emergency room, one of my kids—
ALEX: *stabbing herself in leg with oniony butcher knife while unscrewing lightbulb from lamp and sticking finger into socket while licking acid from melted cast-iron pan* I WILL NOT BE IGNORED, BREEDER!
YOU: Okay, okay! Listen. I just think… you’re better than this. And you deserve better. And so does Anne Archer’s character Beth Gallagher. Oh, honey, I wouldn’t be your real friend if I didn’t tell you the truth. Because I love you.
ALEX: *cries, vomits partially disintegrated small intestine into kitchen pail* You’re so right. I’m going to reconsider kidnapping Ellen Latzen’s character Ellen Gallagher for a roller coaster ride and ice cream. Thank you for helping me to see myself clearly. I love you, too.
See how easy that was?! And if the conversation can go that well with a borderline personality bunny-boiling psychotic, think of what a snap it will be with your mere homewrecking friend! But even if you choose to go another route with this convo, you gotta speak up. For her sake, for your sake and for the sake of sisterhood. ‘Cause women are supposed to have each other’s backs, yo.
Dusty Earth Mother, Guest TMH
Mornin’, Mouthy Minions! Another Guest Mouthy Thursday is upon us and this week, we’re hosting the very funny Kim from the blog Let Me Start By Saying. You may love her for her inspiring posts or funny parental anecdotes, but I love her for saying things like, “Get your vulva off my throw pillow.” (It should be noted, however, that she wasn’t saying that TO ME. Ahem.)
Take it away, Kim! –Kristine, TMH
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
I am married with two kids (5 and 10). We live on a small dirt road in the country. My husband and I are private people. Due to the nature of our jobs, we have unlisted numbers, are careful about our friends and are not super social. Add to this that I can be OCD and view my home as my escape, I am not a fan of guests unless I invite them, and I tend to want a criminal background check before I let you in my home.
Recently, a woman moved in behind us with her 12 year old son and he started coming over uninvited. This has escalated, however, and one morning I came downstairs in my robe to find him and my kids in the living room eating breakfast. Now, he’s usually here all day, coming with us on every outing, and eating all my food.
What has really pushed me over the edge, though, is that his mother is now doing the same! She has started coming over almost daily, unannounced, through the gate, in the yard, on my porch and in my house. No knock, no nothin’. Then it’s – can I have ride here, can I use your phone long-distance to call there, can I use some garlic, Motrin, band-aid, butter… borrow a movie, etc. I come downstairs and she is there! One day she needed butter while I was not home, and just walked in and helped herself!
I have never locked my door during the day, but we do now. I feel invaded. My sanctuary and privacy are gone. I am stressed. She has not taken any of my not so subtle hints (like, ‘look, we have guns and things upstairs, so please don’t go up there without one of us; my bedroom is really private; we’re leaving/eating/sleeping soon; I’m working right now, etc.) I don’t want to burn bridges, but JHC I am at my wit’s end with this woman! Obviously she was not raised with the same manners as I was, and she just does not get it. I am an introvert who is all but anti-social and super private. Which I have told her. Three damn times. I am ready to serve her with a no trespass order, or cite her for felony burglary over the butter! Help!
Fed Up & Fired Up
Dear Fed Up & Fired Up,
Ahhh . . . the country. So beautiful. So quiet.
So full of crazy-ass neighbors with boundary issues.
Finding the right balance between politely excusing yourself from such an intimate friendship and causing the kind of rift with a Nut Job Neighbor that will make it hard for the police to find where your body is hidden can be quite tricky.
But do not lose hope, my peculiarly private pet, for I have a few ideas.
The next time she comes a-plunderin’, answer the door while scratching your head violently, declaring a massive lice infestation. This should buy you 48 hours to hang blackout curtains over every window of your home, thereby making dodging her approaches much easier.
Rush-order customized Welcome mats for your front and back doors that say, “Nope, Still Not Home” and hang seasonal wreaths with delightful arrows pointing to freshly installed deadbolts, cheerfully declaring, “This Lock’s For You!”
If finances are tight due to your super-secret job, a less costly approach would be to (wo)man up and say, “I believe I haven’t been clear. I am a boring, practically mute, butter-hoarding Agoraphobic who hates people and knows how to use the many guns stashed around my home. Please stop coming over.”
If none of these work? Taser that freak sandwich and call the cops.
Someone who’s that determined to borrow your Band-Aids can only be interested in one thing: creating a life-sized doll version of you out of the dryer lint and stray hairs she steals from your home whenever she pops by. I can’t imagine you’ll sleep well knowing the woman bagging your butter by day is lovingly spooning your linty Doppelgänger at night. So be strong, sister. Be strong.
Best of luck exorcising the Demons,
Kim, Guest TMH