Friday, December 2, 2011


In the last 8 months I have moved into a new house with my family of five (posts on family life to come and will be certain to fill your days with whimsical laughter), lost two jobs, and my father died suddenly. I have spent the last few months home, collecting unemployment, furiously making to-do lists, and having some very insightful conversations with my dog. Within this time, I have come to be a non-bather. Apparently, I can stand my own stink and filth for quite a long time (I have not polled my family on their feeling toward this). I mentioned, with probably an odd sense of pride, my indifference to hygeine to a good friend of mine who later announced that he was going to be my "accountabilibuddy." You know...the friend who checks in to make sure you're not cheating on your diet, who meets you on the corner to walk at 6am, who tells you the legwarmers work for your 10 year old daughter, but not you. In my case, he is to remind me to bathe (btw...he completely dropped the ball this week, as I believe I went about 4 days without a suds). I was thinking this week as I was smelling the pits of the shirt I have worn twice (haha...who's counting), that my accountabilibuddy could be used for so much more than my inability to soap up more than twice a week.
Why does no one tell me that I should not eat the food the I wipe off my kids' faces?
Where is that special friend to help me pack away my materinity clothes so that I don't try to pass off the "blousy" shirts as trendy and the pregnancy sweats as yoga pants?
I don't wash my hands that much. And neither do my kids.
I fake sleep when my husband comes to bed.
I rarely answer the phone, even when I know who it is.
I will pretend not to see people I know just to avoid having to talk to them.
I'm a picker. Don't get me started on this mess I've started on my chin. Am I in 8th grade?
My nakedness at home should probably be reigned in, especially now that everyone knows that I'm dirty and naked. It seems cute that my 3 year old son calls my boobs "beep beeps," but I'm guessing that is going to become less entertaining to all of us soon.
I think I could really use someone following my around saying "don't wear that shirt, you just changed a diaper so you need to wash your hands, say good-night to your husband, answer the damn phone, wave to Janice from the school - she knows you see her, leave that zit alone, and get dressed woman - you're scaring the children!"

1 comment:

  1. Aimster.......I am reading backwards and so I started from the top of your new blog and saw the fibromyalgia diagnosis and the post on your Dad which brought tears to my eyes. So I was going to eloquently comment...but then I got to this post and was laughing so hard, the tears came again. This is why I love you...because you never fail to make me laugh. And I am not laughing AT you...but the image of you and your beep beeps and smelling the pits of your shirt. Well, just saying I would pay you to hang around me and make me laugh. I miss it so much...the laughter and laughing with you! So keep these posts coming. I hope they are therapeutic, but you have such a gift for making people laugh in person and in writing...don't ever change or stop. You are one great girl! MISS you always!