I'm a guest blogger at the Mouthy Housewives!
When I didn't have children to neglect, I found I had lots of time to fantasize about the ordered, rule-bound world I would impose on my offspring. I had Big Ideas and Grand Schemes.* Now I have a cable connection and a hidden stash of chocolate. I'd wager to say I've strayed from my ideals, but I wouldn't know because I've forgotten what they were in the first place. Likely something about no high fructose corn syrup.
The kind of advice I'm capable of giving these days is of the reactionary brand. Something egregious happens and I react. For example, three-year-old Roo digs a steak knife out of the cutlery drawer and runs through the house screaming "I get you!" No worries, I'm on it. "DANGER! Roo! No running with knives. Run with these children's safety scissors instead."
You think I threw myself a softball there, don't you? It's true that most of my rules involve the obvious. Don't hit each other. You won't like the way that Vick's Vapor Rub tastes. You can touch your penis after I wipe the poo off of it. But that's the kind of thing my kids require of me. What if I had adult problems to address? What if the complicated world of grown-up living needed someone, someone like me, to speak up and alter the course of a bad decision?
Wonder no more! Today I'm guest posting at The Mouthy Housewives! Not only is this hip and happening advice blog brimming with sagacious comedic talent, they also appreciate a good Ryan Gosling meme. Check out my words of wisdom for a wife who does a little flirting on the side. Spoiler: I don't advise her to touch his penis, even if it's poop-free.
* I once told a nun---because they are authorities on motherhood what with the abstinence and everything---that I would not send my kids to school before kindergarten.
Here's a bit more advice by way of my latest Brites:
|Resist the puppies. And definitely skip the talking parrot.|
|I have a face painting obsession. Thank God I have kids to paint on.|
|Really, not kidding. I can flat-fold fitted sheets. Thanks to Martha Stewart.|
|Not so much advice as it is snarky Mother's Day humor.|
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