I had a big thing happen this weekend -- a guest post on Scary Mommy, one of the biggest mommy blogs on the Internet!
Huge right?
The post was called 10 Reasons Husbands Can Be Referred to as Babysitting.
Ka-bam! I tried to be deferential, saying that I wasn't talking about all men, and that many husbands, even fab dads, fell into some of the described categories.
Many, I'll say most, moms saw both the humor and truth in the post. A few dads were offended, but one softened after I replied to his comment explaining my position -- that while some dads might be a bit inept, many moms were professional worriers.
Still, a few folks, people standing on soapboxes with the Washington Monument up their you-know-whats -- got really offended. Great, now I've got two posts that have made people want to gather up a mob and chase me off the Interwebs! One chick even said she would stop reading and following Scary Mommy because of little ol' me! Thankfully Lady Scary Mommy comes to her guest bloggers' defense and bade this gal good riddance, followed by, "don't let the door hit you on the way out."
Can I get an Amen!
Now some readers, when they see a post criticizing dads, sneer, "Oh that mom thinks her s--t don't stank."
As if.
Most women blog because they know they are far from perfect. And anyone who knows me, knows that I could teach a graduate level course in self-deprecation.
So that's why I'm responding to one commenter's suggestion/dare, to do a post called:
10 Things About Me that Suck for My Partner. Here goes:
1. Hello, Mrs.
Double Standards!
I'll give him the eye for eating that
ice cream with chocolate sauce. Hello, Cholesterol issue? Do you want to
be here for us in twenty years? Then I, the Root Canal Queen will go polish off
a bag of a sleeping -bag's worth of gummi bears.
2. I change my mind more than a toddler.
Me: What movie should
we see? The historical one. We should see it because it will be up for an
award.
Him: Okay sounds good to
me.
Me: No, lets see the
funny one. I need a good laugh.
Him: I do too. Okay, let's see the
funny one.
Me: But, we'll be
bummed when we've seen nothing at award season.
Him: Okay, I'll get
tickets for the historical one.
Me (running in while
he's ordering tickets): No, no, I'm feeling depressed - let's just see
the funny one.
Him: (#@$%!) Grrrrrrrr
3. The
incredible blame-shifting woman.
In the above scenario, if the funny
movie sucks out loud, Hubs's should have foreseen its suckiness and prevented
me from changing my mind. Now we've thrown $20 bucks and 800 calories in
popcorn into the crapper and it's all his fault. If he is anywhere
nearby and I can't find something -- surely he put it somewhere!! And, when we're running late, and I was dilly-dallying? Still totally his fault.
4. The
Rollercoaster of Love (Ooo-ooo-ooh!).
For two weeks a month I am on top of
the world. Then for two weeks I careen between angsty teenage girl and Cruella
deVil. It's a wild ride.
5. It's my way
or the highway.
There is one way to do things.
Just one. No interpretative dance when you fold shirts or load the
dishwasher.
6. I fight
dirty.
I curse a lot (I’m from NYC, what do
you want from me?) and than includes little tiffs. I can take a talk-it-out
and turn it into something that would make Ol' Dirty Bastard and three street
hookers want to find a priest and go bathe themselves in religion.
7. The Human
Cyclone.
When I enter a room, I throw off
shoes and sweaters, spraying them around the room like hot soup in a blender.
I open magazines I have no interest in. Including financial ones
that might as well be written in Sanskrit.
8. You work for
me now buster...
With two little kids, the house might
be a mess most of the time, but when company comes over, I go berserk. I go buy a bunch of new
decorating items, and order Hubbles around demanding that he convert trailer park squalor into an upscale sale-ready townhome on HGTV.
9. So You Think You Can Dance, Mutha----a?
Awkward
dancing earns you anything from no reaction at all to a bemused smile to an
outright grimace. But... when I bust out all kinds of ridiculous moves --
the running man, the cabbage patch, bad jazz dance party-- I require
enthusiastic belly laughs and fan worship. I mean, I get paid to move,
right? Be grateful, whydontcha?!!
10. The most
impatient woman in the world.
When I ask for help with something, I
mean now! In a couple of minutes I could have done it myself. And
he will find that I have done just that, if he has waited too long.
And, sir, you couldn’t handle me for five minutes.
