The Mouthy Housewives have turned two! If they are anything like my firstborn child, prepare yourself for three years of not being able to take them anywhere in public. They’ll wreck havoc in Whole Foods, throw fits in the restaurant when their sippy cup wine glass is empty, and possibly have incontinence issues.
Thank god they’re so cute, right?! As a former Mouthy Housewife, it appears I’ve been “grandfathered” in and get a turn to ask you lovely readers for advice, which is great, because, oh boy, do I need some advice.
Dear Mouthy Housewife Readers,
I have a soon to be fifth-grade son who still doesn’t know about S-E-X. Gasp!, right?
Like, what the hell is my homeschoolin’ self doing if not teaching my own kid sex education? You would think I live in the backwards South where we love ignorance and biblical quotes! Oh, wait.
My mom had “The Talk” with me in fourth grade. Surely my son should have had “The Talk” too. Here’s the thing, though: He still believes in Santa Claus. And the Easter Bunny!
How do you tell a kid who still believes in Santa about S-E-X? That seems like blasphemy, or at least an abominable attempt to ruin childhood innocence. Some of you may say, “Oh, Heather, he probably knows already, he’s just keeping you in the dark!” Um, no. He knows it takes a man and a woman to make a baby, but he doesn’t know the details.
And can we talk about his social immaturity? With the lack of a social filter on his mouth, I don’t trust him not to tell every little kid there is no Santa Claus much less keep the birds and the bees to himself.
I know there’s a round-about age when parents talk to their kids about sex, but doesn’t maturity level come into play too? Should I keep lying about both Santa and sex?
Heather, Former MH
P. S. I have boys. I really don’t understand why this is my problem and not my husband’s. This should totally be my husband’s problem, right?
P. P. S. He’s beginning to get pimples on his nose. Ack! Time is running out.
Dear Gorgeous Mouthy Housewives Readers,
It’s time we let you in on some earth-shattering news. Mouthy Housewife Heather (that’s me!) is going double secret undercover. In case you don’t understand the “double secret” part, it means my mission is TOP SECRET times two, which is why we’re telling the entire internet. So, you know, shhhhhh.
One-half of my TOP SECRET housewife mission is to infiltrate the domestic species called Happy Suburbanus Homowifeicus (commonly called June Cleaver). I’m to study their ways and investigate the true source of their happiness. (Did they really find Jesus in the kitchen, or did they actually find what Moses was smoking while “high” on Mt. Sinai?) I’ll be honest – it’s taking a lot of alcohol for me to keep up the appearance of extreme happiness. But after a three-martini lunch and a flash of my Excel spreadsheet shopping list, they accepted me as one of their own. Now I only need an organic raised-bed vegetable garden in my cookie cutter backyard and I’ll be inducted into their inner circle!
The second half of my TOP SECRET mission is to work my way into a local homeschooling sect and find out why everyone raves that it’s the best thing ever and how much they love it. I suspect they spend a lot of time sniffing dry erase markers. I suspect this because that is what’s working for me. (Homeschooling is the best…snniifffffff. Ahhh! I loves it so much!)
It’s a dicey undercover role I’m taking on, y’all. Already I’m eyeing my next-door neighbor’s weedy lawn and wondering at what point I can report them to our Home Owners Association. The line between a happy housewife and a bored overachiever in denial has become blurred.
It’s also a time-consuming role, which means you’ll no longer find me here on a weekly basis. I hope you understand. I have 16 FEET OF HYBRID ORGANIC TOMATOES TO GROW, OMFG. And dry erase markers to sniff. The good news is that I’ll still pop in from time to time as a guest writer. And Marinka, Kelcey, and Wendi may drop you little updates of my mission, so if you hear them mention Daisy Curbstone, you know who they’re talking about.
So until then, I’ll leave you with the Happy Suburbanus Homowifeicus blessing…
Go forth and propagate!
(It’s their traditional way to wish you well in your vegetable-growing endeavor, but now I wonder if I’m required to have sex with their husbands. Shit. This means I’ll have to look good naked too. I’m never getting out of here.)
A very fond farewell,
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
I have a friend from college who has always been sweet and fun, and in recent years helped me tremendously with my boys while I finished a degree. However, she can be a bit sensitive (read: paranoid) and motherly (read: irritating) at times. We had a falling out after college over a trivial email I sent. Fast-forward about 4-5 years later and I randomly find her again through MySpace. This time she answered my email, so we met up for coffee. We cried, hugged and apologized, and everything was better.
I figured we’d both grown and all that, but I’ve recently found myself on the receiving end of her silent treatment once again. It’s been a few months now and I still haven’t heard from her after repeated attempts to contact her. Frankly, I’m getting a bit annoyed that I have to work so hard to keep this friendship alive. What should I do? Is this something I need to walk away from, or should I try–once again–to track her down and work things out?
Friendship in Limbo
Dear Friendship in Limbo,
When first reading this I thought TMH had received a new reality TV pilot in our inbox. But before I could pretend spend the royalties we’d collect off of this obvious future hit series, I realized this is a real problem from a reader. Now I’m pissed.
That’s me giving you the silent treatment. Now it’s your turn to repeatedly call, text, and/or email me in a sad attempt to gain my attention, but it will be no match against my imaginary powers of pettiness. Not even skywriting to me can diminish my powers!
You said it yourself – you’re both grown. At least you’ve grown. It sounds like your friend is caught in a junior high time warp and stuck at the age fourteen. No one should work that hard to keep a friendship. Yes, relationships take effort, but let’s remember the difference between effort and being jerked around by the other person.
You’ve made several attempts to confront the situation and resolve the problem. If she’s not willing to meet you half way, there’s nothing else you can do. So I say save your energy for something more fun. And let’s face it, clipping old lady toenails would be more fun than this.
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
I love my husband and my kids, but I am so burnt out. And more than “I need a half hour alone at Starbucks” burnt out. But I can’t afford a getaway and don’t have reliable childcare. Any ideas on how I can recharge?
Burnt to a Crisp
Dear Burnt to a Crisp,
When you ask how to recharge, I assume you’re not a Stepford robot wife who lost her charging cable, but a real human wife who lost her wine bottle opener, which, of course, is a more dire situation than losing some stupid charging cord. But now that I think on it, I kind of wish I were a Stepford wife whose battery ran out of charge. It sounds like the perfect excuse to me right now.
Can you tell I need more than thirty minutes alone at Starbucks too? I’ve recently become a full-time stay-at-home mom again with a kid also back home full-time – the first time in five years. I’m so burnt out that our smoke alarms go off every time I walk by. (Not to be confused when the smoke alarms signal dinner is ready.)
What are we crispy mamas to do? I’m sitting here doing a lot of emotional eating and I can tell you it’s not helping, so scratch that off of the list of possible solutions. I’m not sure it’s possible for one burnt out wife/mother to help another. It’s not like I’ve had an epiphany that gives me new insight and wisdom. (Epiphany means “kids leave for college,” right?)
So let’s turn this over to our readers. Do we have any recovered burnouts? Tell us how you recharge as a wife and mother. But be warned! The first person to suggest a bubble bath gets heckled.
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
I am so over moms that haven’t been out to dinner in 5 years and their entire social lives revolve around PTA meetings and their kids’ activities. How hard is it to book a sitter and have a nice dinner with your husband? I don’t get these moms and I’m sick of the whining.
Am I being too harsh?
I absolutely do not think you’re being too harsh. In fact, I think you aren’t being harsh enough. Who do these women think they are, doing volunteer work and making friends at the same time? Don’t they know you’re supposed to hate your “co-workers” and spend your time plotting passive-aggressive acts of revenge? It’s like they don’t even know how to be contributing members of society anymore.
I also agree that instead of trying to make schools a better place, they should do something more beneficial to the world, like plan dinner dates with their husband. Look at that Mother Teresa! She couldn’t even be bothered with men because of all of her volunteer work. What kind of example does that set for young girls?
Now that the gloves are completely off, let’s go ahead and talk about those homeschooling moms too. They are a heinous mutation between an overachieving PTA president and a Bible-toting hobo. Lord, someone needs to save them from themselves, and that someone should be a proctologist, because they are SO far up their kid’s ass it’s unbelievable. Why don’t they send their kids to a real school and get a life of their own?
Clearly these moms are lost souls, but thankfully there are women like you and me to tell them how to live a better life by giving back less and eating out more.