Being Female · Me

Ice cream with a side salad? Perfect.

ice-creamI wasted ten minutes of my life today, standing in a drugstore aisle, trying to decide if I have aging or mature skin.Lately, the face soap I’ve been using in the shower is leaving my face feeling dry, so I decided I needed a cleanser with a moisturizer in it.

They market two different types of moisturizing skin cleansers in my town – one for aging skin and one for mature skin.

What they don’t tell you is how to determine which type of skin you have.

I must admit I feel mature when I look at my two beautiful daughters with their line free faces and firm belief that ice cream is a perfectly acceptable main (and only) course for dinner. I feel I’m slightly more mature than they are, as I would add a side salad to an ice cream meal as well.

But, I also KNOW that I’m aging.

Especially on days like yesterday when the article I wrote at 9 am (which had everyone raving about how perfect it was) was so rewritten by the client, that by 3 pm, I didn’t even recognize it as my work.

And that, my friends, is aging. I aged about ten years in one day with that mess.

So, yep, I think I’m both mature and aging.

But, both didn’t come in the same cleanser bottle, so in the end?

I picked the cleanser for aging skin.

Because who needs greens with their meal every night anyway, right?

Bring on the ice cream.

And the wine.

Neither my skin nor I are ready to be considered mature quite yet.

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Being Female · Cleaning · Hubby

Husbands Create Housework.

 

HouseworkRecently, I was sent a link to a Reuters article with a headline stating that husbands create an extra seven hours of housework a week for their wives.

After this weekend with my beloved, I believe that.

The quote in the article that caught my eye, however, was the one that said,

"They found that young single women did the least amount of housework, at about 12 hours a week. Married women in their 60 and 70s did nearly twice that amount, while women with more than three children spent 28 hours a week cleaning, cooking and washing."

So, if a mother of three does four hours of housework a day, works for eight, drives to work for one, and IF they sleep for eight hours (HA!) then they should still have three hours a day to do, whatever they want.

Right?

Right.

Anyone else know where those three hours go?

Because I can't find those hours anywhere and I've been looking for a really long time now…

I'm also thinking twelve hours of housework a week sounds nice.

Anyone know how I can be young and single again?

I'm willing to pay….

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http://www.reuters.com/article/us-housework-husbands-idUSN0441782220080404

Being Female · Blogging · Fashion · Me

I’m beautiful, just the frumpy way I am…

LipstickYesterday, I got an e-mail from Twitter informing me that six, (yes six!) BEAUTY bloggers are now following me.

Um, ladies? I have one question for you.

Why? 

I mean I do wear lipstick and I brush my hair.

I wear jeans and, on a good day, I wear a clean shirt with them.

I am not however into makeup and fashion stuff.

Still, I was curious so I went on these beauty blogger's websites and I checked out what they wrote about. 

These bloggers are articulate, YOUNG and uh, beautiful but they also talk in a language I don't understand.

I mean, contouring? What does that have to do with my face?

The last time I heard anything about contouring I was in a tenth grade geography class looking at maps.

Sorry, but my face just isn't the contouring type.

I also don't own a white eyeliner and on these sites that looks like it might be considered a sin. 

Honestly, my biggest fear is that these lovely beauty bloggers have started following me with the intention of staging some sort of an intervention with me.

Now, realistically I may need some help but, really?

It's never going to happen.

I am not going to become beauty savvy. I have no interest.

I'm happy just the way I am.

My frumpiness and I are on good terms.

I actually even sorta EMBRACE my frumpiness.

I AM frumpy-tired mama.

Yeah.

Hear me roar.

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Being Female · Daughters · Music

Only love can break a heart…

Musical theatreMy youngest daughter is singing a musical theatre piece in a music festival tomorrow and I was trying to help her prepare for her performance tonight.

'You're singing about your heart being broken in this piece,' I told her as we talked about the different facial expressions she could use and how her voice should sound.

'Well, how exactly does one look and sound when they have a broken heart?' she asked me.

And I tried to come up something better then – really, really, REALLY sad.

Yeah, I failed.

Still, can we stop time?

Please?

I like the fact that she doesn't know what a broken heart feels like.

And honestly, it breaks my heart a little tonight to think that one day she's going to understand how a broken heart looks and feels all too well. 

At fourteen she's not that little anymore.

But I'd like her to be.

I really, really would.

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Being Female · Hubby

Buy Me a Rose….

MP910220657
Last Saturday night the hubby and I ended up at a Kenny Rogers concert.

It's a long story how we got there but I was happy, in a nerdy way, because I actually like country music.

Yep, I can sing along with most of what Kenny sings.

One of the songs he came out with in the 90's is a ballad called, Buy Me a Rose.

It's basically a song letting men know that if they really want to please their wives they should stop buying them stuff and just pay a little more attention to them.

Let me share with you a few of the lyrics:

'He works hard to give her all he thinks she wants
A three car garage, her own credit cards
he pulls in late to wake her up with a kiss goodnight
if he could only read her mind she'd say:

Buy me a rose, call me from work,
open a door for me, what would it hurt?
Show me you love me by the look in your eyes
these are the little things I need the most in my life.'

It's a very sweet and romantic ballad. 

And as Kenny sang this song, I turned in the dark to my husband to maybe try and hold his hand or share a kiss.

But, I quickly realized that there would be no romantic moment between my husband and myself right then, because he was busy

– texting work.

Sigh.

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