Archive for the ‘ Housewife ’ Category

I Will Never Be a BRECK Girl

Last May after Keratin straightening My daughter ran into a soccer mom yesterday, someone neither she nor I have seen since the school season ended back in February. “How’s your mom?” asked the woman. “She cut off all her hair,” responded my daughter. I wish I could have seen the expression on the woman’s face when she heard this. If I had heard someone had cut off all her hair, I’d think she went a little nuts. Well, maybe I did. Last May I succumbed to my first hair process ever. I had it straightened. And for about five minutes ...

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Not In My Backyard

There are people who are supposed to be in my backyard. And then there are people who should not be there. By owning a resort on 45-acres of property with a sign on the main road directing traffic to it, I’m accustomed to keeping my eye on all who enter. Each time I spy a body, I ask myself, do they belong—i.e. are they registered guests? Are they visitors? Customers? Potential guests? Or, are they trespassers? We get our fair share of trespassers at Sandy Point Resort, particularly on hot summer days when the beach looks very inviting. Often I have neighbors ...

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ACL Diary: Real Soccer Moms

“Soccer moms drive minivans . . . but this girl drives a Bentley.” —Peggy Tanous from the Real Housewives of Orange County, BRAVO TV. Peggy Tanous, you can kiss my sweet, round soccer ball-shaped ass. What I mean to say is good for you and your new role as a “Bravolebrity” on BRAVO TV’s Real Housewives of Orange County. I hope you have a lot of fun, make a lot of new friends and have many opportunities to support your darling little daughters. But please, do us ALL a favor—particularly the REAL soccer moms who might tune in to ...

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Wings: For Mike. Happy Anniversary

"Wings" Written in 1993. Published in the book, The Things I Wish I'd Said He’s breaking out. Like a butterfly emerging from a thirty-year-old chrysalis, his legs kick and his wings form. He is finally growing up. And soon, if he makes it through this struggle, he will fly with a new self-confidence, a new stamina. I watch him. I observe with a hardhat and powerful pair of binoculars. I carry a shield. I carry a book. I listen to the deep breathing that comes with challenging work, to the heavy sighs, the cries, and even the laughter. I ...

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Some Days I Abhor Being a Mother

Today is one of them. The Beav and I covered about four-and-a-half miles this morning in triple digit temperatures and I swear, as much bile spilled from my tongue as sweat poured from my glands. If there’s really such a thing as “going on strike” from the job of motherhood, I think it’s fair to say, this morning I declared such a strike. I did not get out of bed before the sun. I did not wake up either of my children. I didn’t prepare breakfasts or lunches. I didn’t issue reminders to bring homework or weekend projects. I didn’t ask ...

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Red Hot Chile Peppers

He used to bring me flowers. Now he brings me chile peppers. Harvest in Hatch, New Mexico coincides with my husband’s annual Northwoods-to-Desert journey, and in the past few years, he’s always made a stop in this quaint Southwestern village. Hatch is known as the “Chile Capital of the World.” There he picks out the longest, reddest ristras he can find, strikes a deal with the vendor, and then finds room in his packed vehicle to bring them home. Ristras are a collection of chile peppers tied to a string and hang vertically. Traditionally they were hung this way to dry and ...

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Dough!

I admit I was pretty lenient on Friday afternoon when I let the girls have a boatload of friends over to party the way teenagers do on a Friday evening. I’ve never minded being the Kool-aid mom and still like the idea of providing a safe environment for kids to hang out and have fun—especially now when they’re at an age when substances swirl around in the backgrounds of their lives. What I mean is they won’t find any drugs or alcohol in my house. But what they did find on Friday were all the ingredients (save the eggs) to make ...

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The Perils of a Husbandless Housewife

TUESDAY: While driving the high school car pool on a morning with a full schedule and close to 200 miles on the day’s agenda—my front left tire went flat. It was fine when I pulled out of the garage, fine when I picked up the first kid, but flat after I picked up the second. I didn’t suspect the flat until we hit the first bump in the bumpy road. The impact was not what we had come to expect from this luxury automobile.  The noticeable jolt coupled with the dashboard warning light popping on: “Check tire pressure,” made me ...

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How Do You Women Do It?

Recently I sat in the airport at Minneapolis/St. Paul for three hours waiting for my connection. Luckily I had a book to read/edit to keep me occupied, and iPod ear buds to keep me from hearing the very LOUD small talk of a group of women who were clearly on their way to some kind of conference. Immersed in work and music, at one point I happened to look up and to my left, and I witnessed a poignant scene. Standing some twenty-five feet away was a young family just ending their embrace. The woman had long, uncombed hair, wore jeans ...

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