I just got a kid at my door trying to sell me magazine subscriptions so he can earn points towards some kind of amazing vacation. Who are these kids? We had one in Montana too and it's apparently some sort of race because there are teams and they're always out of breath. It's supposed to be a "leadership opportunity" or something. I always wonder how legit these things are . . .
But anyway, part of his speal (spiel?) was to ask if I have an amazing job -- which I said yes, stay-at-home mom and he replied, cool, a domestic housegoddess. Then he promptly asked what my husband does and the reply police officer flustered him up badly enough that he didn't persist in his sales pitch, which was nice.
I like the sound of "domestic housegoddess". Even if I do feel terribly un-goddess-like sitting here in my pajamas with humidity hair and tired from Megan having cranky fits all afternoon (I know, the pictures only show the angel, but it's true!). And I would like to wave a magic wand and clean the floor and the dishes rather than getting on my hands and knees to wipe up spilled food 3 times daily. Plus, can anyone tell me the magic word to get a 16-month old to eat vegetables? Any vegetables? By the way, I need to apologize to anyone and everyone I ever thought ill of because their children did not eat the way I thought they should -- unless that involved Spaghetti-O's -- there have to be limits somewhere!
But then there is something magical in hugs and kisses and that wonderful little laugh and the way she talks to herself all the time (too much like her Mommy on that one) or wants to hold on to you and have you all to herself.
I love being a domestic housegoddess.
1 comment:
Ha I like that title. About the veggies...good luck. Caleb used to eat them all the time. He loved them until he discovered there was way better tasting food out there.
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