Ain’t Nobody Got Time For Cleaning

Everyone knows that kids have an aversion to doing chores. Say the C-word, and you’ll hear the groaning and complaining start. Asking them to help with things around the house instantly brands you an Asshole Parent, one who clearly doesn’t love them. I don’t much like doing chores either, but spending more time dragging one’s feet than the chore actually requires to be completed — and having to do it anyway — baffles me.

Baby Girl likes to help me with my chores sometimes — the more likely it is that something will break, the more she wants to help. (And I’m sure that when she is more capable of doing these chores in a few years, she’ll develop an aversion to them, too.) However, when it comes to picking up her toys, she acts like doing so is torture and often refuses to do it. The threat of taking away a toy does little. When she’s in Stubborn Mode, she’d prefer losing every toy she owns to giving in and doing what she’s told.

Rather than whine, last week Baby Girl got a little creative with her attempt to get out of picking up stuff.

While straightening up the living room, I told Baby Girl to pick up the stuffed animals she had been playing with. She had been doctoring them and had left them strewn across the couch.

“Mommy, I’m just too young to pick up toys,” she told me.

Too young. That’s quite a mouthful for someone who’s too young to pick up her mess. After suppressing a giggle, I informed Baby Girl that if she was too young to pick up her toys, then she was too young to have them and that they’d go in storage. She put them away, and with minimal complaints for a change.

What’s the best excuse you or your kid has given to get out of doing chores?

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Methods of Torturing Mom (Or Any Other Female)

We always hear about how rough childbirth is. For sure, it’s no walk in the park, but usually it’s the one or two or three days of your life where the pain factor was high, and you walked out with a little bundle of joy, so that kinda balanced things out, right? Let’s talk about the day-to-day pains (physical or otherwise) that are pretty damn bad that a) don’t leave you with a bundle of joy and b) don’t make you elated in any way. 


The first one — underwire. OMFG. I know we’re supposed to avoid wearing bras with underwire for reasons I can’t think of (legit reasons, not “I’m afraid I’ll be stabbed and slowly bleed to death” reasons), but they’re more comfortable and supportive for me, so I do. It’s all good in the neighborhood until the wire that’s giving me a bit of form gets pissed off at all the work it’s doing and snaps. And then it’s like a drive by with a tiny sharp wire in my sideboob with every step I take until I free myself of the cursed contraption. I wouldn’t prefer labor with Little Man over the underwire, but I’ll take the C-section pain from after the spinal wears off over having to spend a day being stabbed by underwire.

And that brings me to epillators. I bought my first (and last) one a couple weeks ago. It was supposed to make my legs smooth for weeks, remove certain facial hairs that I don’t wanna bleach but want gone, and basically turn me from a 3 into about a 4.5. Lies, y’all, lies. Maybe I’m just doing it really wrong, but as far as I’m concerned, epillators are akin to medieval tools of torture. I have a high tolerance for pain, but I could only stand a few minutes of that. I want to box it up and send it back and leave a review calling it modern day torture, but they probably wouldn’t take it (and ew, would they resale a used epillator?). 10/10 I’d rather give birth to both kids again than shave both legs and other areas with that thing.

Hot wax. Hot not. Let me state for the record that the only thing I’ve ever had waxed is my eyebrows. Based on that, I can only imagine that ripping off hair in other areas would be godawful. Is it epillator bad? I don’t know and won’t be finding out just for the sake of this blog post.

Ain’t no flow like Aunt Flo. This one should go without saying, but look, it’s an angry uterus that looks like the Kool-Aid man ready to throw ovaries at you! As far as pregnancy comparisons go, I will say that some of these cramps have been every bit as intense as contractions. Not always, not often even, but it has happened. So, periods have their own torturous aspects. Plus, having to pay money for pads and tampons every month over the course of 40 or so years is a torture in its own right.

Crappy movies. Some of y’all will disagree with me on this. I know Lifetime sometimes shows legit movies, but when I’m flipping through, it usually isn’t. There are titles like “Who Killed Jenny’s Dad?” “Jenny’s Dad Returns: A Haunting” “The Face on the Milk Carton: The Untold Story of the Mysterious Disappearance of Jenny” and “Double Haunting: Ghosts Dad and Jenny Terrorize Mom.” Or something like that. You know how everyone says watching certain kids’ cartoons, like Peppa Pig or Spongebob, is torture? Well, Lifetime is about ten times worse. One day the kids are gonna find out that channels like Lifetime and Hallmark exist and are gonna want to know why we talked all that smack.

Laundry mountain. Maybe I shouldn’t be directing my hate at washing machines. After all, all it does is stand there. What I should be directing my frustration to is the individuals in my home who toss clean clothes in the hamper; the individuals who puke all over everything; the individuals who can’t go a week without spilling drinks all over. But, nah, I love my family, so I’ll hate on the washing machine and the laundry mountain that it eventually creates, and then cry online about having to fold everything being like delivering triplets with no medication. (Just kidding.)

So, torture…if you’re really pissed off at me, a great way to get back at me is to make me watch Lifetime movies while folding clothes while wearing a bad bra while on my period while you apply hot wax to one leg and go after the other with an epillator. 

So, what would you add to your list of things that you find torturous? And men, what makes you go, “This is worse than a cold”?

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