I think I was born in the wrong era . . . yesterday I had 7 loads of laundry done, floors slept and washed, kid fed and taken to school and pumpkin mousse tarts in the oven for after lunch. This was done before noon.
I really like the people I work with, don’t get me wrong . . . but there isn’t that same sense of purpose or accomplishment like the days I get to stay home and look after my family. I should have been form in the 30’s – this way I could have been the happy little housewife in the 50’s (I rock the 50’s style head scarf and red lipstick, don’t kid yourself)
Why is it shocking to a lot of people – yeah, a LOT of people – to hear a female say that? Why does it have to turn into me being told I’m helping to oppress women or that I’m spitting in the face of all the women who paved the way for us to have the rights we do now. If that is your opinion . . . you can shut your pie whole. Stop being so bitter and so very politically correct that you are now an asshole.
That went on a different turn. Moving on . . . .
I really was going to work out today, that didn’t happen. I’m pretty sure my over productivity yesterday is being balanced out by today. Do you know how hard it is to find an appropriate and decent Halloween costume for a kid 3 days before Halloween? It’s hard. Seriously, hard. . . unless you’re willing to spend $45 on something that looks like it was made from bargain basement bed sheets and a Crayola screen print set. All I wanted was some cowboy gear. Vest, badge, hat, maybe a holster . . . no. No, you can’t find a holster or vest, even at 3 different dollar stores who ALWAYS have them. On a side note, scored an 18 piece Halloween cookie cutter set for $3 (totes don’t need it, I already have I’m sure 12 of them . . . but I didn’t have a Tombstone oar spider web C’mon!) I may, possibly, have a slight addiction when it comes to bakeware . . . I can’t help it, I like to bake.
Halloween costumes take precedence right now. Its all about the Beaver Scout Halloween party . . . now I need to figure out supper . . . knew I forgot something.