I am the mother of daughters. I don’t know how you raise sons. I remember watching friend’s sons leaping over lounges, wrestling on the floor and kamikaze body slamming each other and I would wonder “can’t they just sit down and do some drawing? I have some pretty glitter pens here”.
Instead we have lived in the world of Bratz and Barbie.We’ve drowned in fairies and sparkles. A world of cuteness and light … and then they grew up.
Our house is a seething mass of hormones “why are you crying?” “I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M CRYING”. My husband hides in the kitchen. “I’m cooking dinner, a very important task, everybody needs to eat, see I’m helping here, please let me stay in the kitchen, don’t make me go out there, DON’T MAKE ME TALK TO THEM”.
The dog hides under the table too afraid to venture out.
Unfortunately, I too am a girl. So I bring to the party my own ovarial complications. Just ask my husband, “I’m just mad alright, you are an idiot. I wouldn’t get this angry if you weren’t an idiot. MENTION MENOPAUSE AND YOU WILL DIE … DO YOU HEAR ME DIE”. (BTW I know ovarial isn’t a word, I made it up, it’s my blog and I can do that … don’t even think about pointing it out. Right just Googled ovarial it might be a word sorry I overreacted).
Right today’s a new day. Moving on…all is good. It wasn’t that bad. Then I catch husband marking the calendar, he’s planning fishing trips for the next 12 months but only on particular weeks. He’s going to be away a lot.
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Hilarious and terrifying at the same time
Yes I can relate. I am a mum of 3 girls, but only one is of the ovarial age, and fortunately I’ve always been fairly even keeled in that area (if by even keeled you mean I cry at NRMA commercials but I don’t get angry). But there are 2 more little ones to come through and develop ovarial issues so there are many many years ahead for my ovarially-challenged husband. There. Ovarial is totally a word, and here’s to it being your SEO word of the week.
Can my idiot husband go fishing with yours?
You are hysterical! So is Therese. 🙂
I have a boy. His first ‘break up’ at the ripe old age of 15 was devastating! Even more so for me. Who knew men could feel that way!?
Good luck. 🙂
I read the 1st line and wondered if I wrote this blog!!!! I could have and not even remembered you see I too have daughter 3 of them – one in the Ovarial the next just in but we don’t speak about it and the third is 6 years old and everything fairies, oh and the ruler of the house hold – so I guess my husband needs to go fishing with the other two husbands, Always wondered what a fishing club was all about?
Love this post…. You made me laugh… ‘Ovarial complications’….. Yes I do believe I have them too… Thank you !!!
Believe me, watching my daughter deal with the grandsons, I am so happy I was just a mother of a daughter! Hormones and all!
Must agree with those who’ve commented that their children are grown and things don’t really get less hectic. I don’t know if I remember what my life was like “BK” either because I had children when I was 20 and that was sooooooo long ago but I know that having grown children doesn’t make things less hectic. I had 4 children in the years between 20 and 26 and my youngest will be 22 in a less than a month but my house is still just as chaotic or maybe even moreso. As difficult and time consuming as it is/was to care for a bunch of little ones it really isn’t as bad as caring for grown children (who keep moving back home to live) and having to clean up after them because “they are too busy to clean up after themselves (and of course I have nothing else to do)! I am looking forward to grandchildren when I can clean up after a little one and teach once again how to put your things away! LOL
not sure why my post from your previous post …posted again (must be having laptop issues again)????? Pertaining to today’s blog all I can say is I have 3 daughters but other than the bickering amongst themselves I was lucky! Or could be that I was always so busy I just didn’t pay attention…that is very possible! LOL
As a mother and aunt to 5 boys (7-12) – we still exclude the miracle 15mth beauty, I sympathise with you all. But on occassion I would swap all the dirty clothes, muddy football boots, undistinguishable items in the bottom of the school bags and lunchboxes, bandaids, bathrooms and the ever increasing food bill for a pretty, pink joy to take out for lunch. This is with the knowledge that it probably won’t turn into a pie eating and burping contest at the table. At least girls grow up – we all did. Somehow I think my dinner table is going to remain as it is for at least the next 15 years.
Just so you know our dinner table can be a burping fart feast too on occasion.
I wish the “I don’t know why I’m crying” would go away at some point in life… does it ever?