M.O.S: Mom On Strike

I’ve had it. I’m on strike. I’m tired of the whining, complaining, moaning, mumbling, and bitching that accompanies anything I ask the boys to do. God forbid I should ask them to wash their clothes or put their things away. I’ve thrown most of their things away (or so they think), shouldn’t that be enough of a deterrent? I give them an allowance when they do their chores, shouldn’t that encourage them? Ugh!! Even when it comes to washing their own clothes all the middle child has to do is request it and I will start it for him. The older one is old enough to work the washer himself. The house doesn’t need to be immaculate (hahahaha! sorry, even the thought of that is funny). I don’t expect them to do much, but as members of this house I do expect them to help. Even the little one has to help clean up her things. But since I can’t get anything done without having to hear them bitch and argue (loudly), or bang cabinets and doors, breaking things… I have officially gone on strike.

I will continue what I normally do for my daughter and I, and the boys will get my love and the essentials they need. If they want anything done, they will need to do it themselves. They will also need to keep their mess confined to their room or it will be thrown out. I’m tired of the mounds of laundry piled high in the tiniest of laundry/storage/utility closets that they claim don’t need to be washed because they still have clean clothes. I’m sure they are using the word clean rather loosely here. Whatever.

If you need me, I’ll be on the couch with a bottle of wine. 🙂

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Things My Daughter Says II: It Could Be The Vagina Monologues

No lie. It is Saturday morning (ok, technically it’s the afternoon) and I am being lazy. A couple hours ago I decided that I need to get up and shower and that my daughter needs one too. So, in we go. The following is the true conversation of what transpired:

Daughter: Are you peeing?

Me: No

Daughter: Why do you have hair on your vagina?

Me: *sputtering shampoo as I attempt an answer* Because I do

Daughter: Do all mommies have hair on their vaginas?

Me: Yes, I suppose so.

Daughter: Do Grandmas have hair on their vaginas?

Me: *thinking carefully about the topic of conversation that might happen at Grandma’s over Thanksgiving dinner* I don’t know

Daughter: What about aunties?

Me: *OMG, I can’t believe this conversation is still happening!* I’m not sure

Daughter: What about uncles?

Me: *Phew, I can answer that* No

Daughter: Why not?

Me: *Oh shit! Now what?* Because uncles don’t have vaginas

Daughter: But [name of brother 1 and 2] have vaginas

Me: *treading into unchartered territory here* No, boys don’t have vaginas

Daughter: Then how do they pee?

Me: *F*&%, when will this end?! I let out a giggle and attempt to control myself.* They use the toilet

Daughter: But how do they go pee?

Me: *damn, I knew she was too smart to let that go. My laughter is now involuntary and all attempts to control it are futile*  They have a penis   *there I said it!*

Daughter: *very excited to understand this new concept* Is that on their vagina?!

Me: *how can this NOT be over! I can’t contain it, I laugh so hard I pee in the shower!*

Daughter: Mommy! You peed!

At least the subject has been changed.

I know you are reading this, Mom. Consider yourself forewarned.