Stand back or I’ll shoot. Unless you’ve brought chocolate. No, not that kind. *Godiva takes bullet, falls from blogger’s hand* Lily’s With Stevia. Extra Dark. Or anything fried, like yesterday’s KFC. Can you believe that? No one, nothing made me do it but the insufferable hormones. And why does the world have to choose this week, of all the ones in the month, to be uncooperative? The burrito that took as long as the Second Coming, homeschool boys, my own body withholding sleep. Husband, KEEP AWAY! For the sake of our marriage and grandchildren, your very breath, stay in the master and I will stay out. Some things are just not worth attempting under constraining circumstances. Conversation. Eye contact. Love. Why is the sun so bright, the cherry blossoms so pretty? Why are you all here?? There you go. *Toss* All I have are three bullet-proof vests for the first commenters. The rest were warned. Men are targets because they are men, women for being women. The others because they’re pets sleeping at the feet of computers. I’m going to have a word with you someday, Eve. I bet you didn’t bleed in Eden. That’s why Adam loved you, because he was unfamiliar with PMS. And you thought it was unconditional. Bloody sacrifices came after the Fall so there was no blood in the Garden. Paradise included smooth hormones and you had to have more, sweet-talked your man into taking the apple. You wretched woman, bringing this curse down on us. I’ll show you curs — !@#%^&!^!!!
we felt so grown up when we were kids and now wonder that we are so old when we're not yet grown we started losing our parents to time and frailty. in the cycle of life things go upside down sometimes you rush d o w n the rabbit hole into a world above the logic of sorrow and find you are so small, but remember: Mom's high ceiling, your sure ground. see the sky and trees in your pool of tears they're the other side of life. how beautiful things are when they drown how clear it is underwater. you long to run to the garden beyond that door but you don't fit life would feel deformed under the weight of loss if it weren't for the faith that was bigger than the life that shut down she archived her fears and hopes in her kids, did anyone hear the story in between, did anyone look? hold fast your heirloom assurance the midnight of your dreams is really a new day. for HJ & anyone else who would like it
Men will want to read this for their wives, sisters, and daughters, too. Comments closed. Feel free to take them over there.
This guest post is written by K. Badgers, a valued contributor to this blog.
“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” ~ George Santayana
Memory is intrinsically entwined with politics – there are restrictions on who is deemed important enough to remain in the history books and in the public eye. As a result, not everyone deserving leaves a legacy, whereas certain practices and beliefs are perpetuated to become part of our customs and culture which aren’t in the interest of the greater good. The root of several modern-day problems – including the widespread medicalization of the female body – can be identified by looking back into history. As the above quote by Santayana suggests, it’s often important to recognize these key, damaging moments of the past in order to successfully move forward.
Bad Medical Practice has Roots in Nazi Directives
In one of the most…
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Sorry. Have no photos, people.
Mrs: If I die, you’ll marry someone nicer than me. But dumber.
Mr: This is true. I’ve had enough of smart wives.
Mr: (Caressing wife) Honey, can you…talk 20% less?
If you haven’t figured out these tricks by now, time may still be willing to save your relationship. So here we go. Those few days out of the month:
1. Keep a spare pair of boxing gloves on hand for defensive blocks. Think of it as a workout. Build muscle and coordination. How nice, you don’t even have to go to the gym. Hey, give it ten years and you’ll be looking sharp and buff. You should thank her.
2. Accept the fact that you are stupid and anyone who goes near her is too. She has a soft spot for the kids but keep kickable pets away.
3. Try extra hard to pretend you’re listening. You just might get away with it if you look up when those lips start moving faster than you can handle.
4. Here’s your chance. Fix something, anything. The shingles on the roof, camera tripod, all the stuff you love tinkering with when you’re not napping. Break it first behind her back if you have to – but be sure you can FIX it!
5. Don’t forget the trash. Gosh, don’t forget the trash.
6. You know the Yes, Dear that you haven’t been practicing? Well, good news. The premarital advisers were wrong. You don’t have to say it all the time. Statistics prove the abracadabra works when employed just two days a month. Pick your hardest days. Takes less than two seconds – that’s not even four in a painful week. Wow, a year’s worth of peace in 48 seconds. Tell me of a cheaper, faster kind of relationship therapy out there.
7. Take her out. A movie will keep her quiet and entertained. She may even laugh. But if the trip alone with her in the car scares you too much…
8. What does she like? Play her favorite song. Bring home flowers. How could you forget she’s craving sweets? Run her a hot bath, get her out of your hair for half an hour.
9. Remember why you wanted to marry her. The way she looked the day you met. (Her body.) Her mind (her body), her spirituality (her body). In fact, make that a wedding photo on your screensaver or phone. Take saving advantage of your visual facility and stare at the picture until you hypnotize yourself into believing that person’s still in there. Somewhere. People have been using guided imagery to conquer phobias and lose weight for centuries. You can do it, rescue your beloved from the premenstrual invasion of the Body Snatcher.
10. If all else remains lost, cry. Since you can’t beat her, join her. No need to admit you’re weeping over the death of your dreams. S Impress her with how deep and sympathetic you can be and experience together a new level of rapturous communion that’ll usher in a fresh love. Not a big deal you’ll have to do it all over again in a month. You’ll feel so much better.
And Happy 10th Anniversary to the Holistic Couple.
Holistic Love Doctor, M.LoveEd., Ph.D., HMFT, LoveL.Ac., L.HChVoodoo
I deserve flak from my female cohorts. As a young adult, I never got the I-AM-WOMAN-HEAR-ME-ROAR hullabaloo. Why Oprah and devotees, TV shows, and pop culture rattled on about the woman with all the balls up in the air, exhausted in the attempt to satisfy diverse roles. Then I got married.
And became a mother.
The breadth of the tasks in my day-to-day, not to mention the depth, is such that I actually forget a lot of what I do. It is a great much, the littlest things one tends to as a mom.
I tore out a page of our calendar for you. I usually do more lessons, and doctor visits obviously are not a regular affair. But this day was typical in the way it packed one activity right into the next:
Dental checkup 45 minutes away
Prep for husband’s lunch next day
It was 6:40 when I was able to sit. Come to the computer and catch my breath – for eight minutes before showering Tennyson and tucking him in. In the past, I’ve gone on to cook two, three meals ahead for the little Foodie, find my way to the end of the dish pile, and clean the kitchen. This year, I’ve let myself write.
So I give you a glimpse of my week to share a rendition of a pretty amazing show we have going in our home.
One day I walked into the master where I found Husband pacing. Out streamed from his mouth an uncharacteristically impressive list of To-Dos he had drawn up for the day. “…and I have to do oil change and detail the car and replace the tires pick up the timbau from Riverside mow the lawn get ready for Samba…”
“I think….I’ll naaap.”
And he sank himself into the lounger with the grace of a deflating hot air balloon on landing.
Once I had picked my jaw up off the floor and my bug eyes had resumed their Asian size, I kicked him out, his laughter trailing him. The thing is, he’d meant it. The man really was going to take a siesta. It wasn’t just at my stunned bafflement but for the delight in the sweet change of plans that he’d crowed. It is beyond me. My husband is beyond me. Men are beyond me. If mothers so casually replaced obligations with sleep or every impulse, the human race would go extinct.