Why I still appreciate police officers!

Like everyone else I've been watching the news about the protests, the movement across the nation. I am actually FROM St. Louis so I'm more aware of the goings on than some of the other news outlets. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about the videos I've seen coming out of people shouting "what do we want? Dead Police. When do we want it? Now." I've seen videos of people spitting in police officers' faces, saying "F*ck the Police", etc. I have a great appreciation for police, although I'm fully aware not all police are the good guys, anymore than every doctor, teacher, preacher, nurse, mom, etc are good guys/gals. Here's a shortened version of my story:

We'll start at the age of 15. My mom was married to my step dad who wasn't exactly kind to us. On more than one occasion the police had to be called because he was beating up my mom, or brother, or whomever. I got into the habit of sleeping in my clothes because I was tired of being in my nightgown when the officers showed up. They were nice to us, they protected us.

Fast forward to the age of 22. I haven't made it a secret that I was in an abusive marriage to an alcoholic. There were many occasions where I feared he'd strangle me to death, or beat me to death. I had my fair share of injuries, although most were easily hidden beneath clothes or by wearing my hair down. He never seemed to beat me where anyone could see. The police always seemed to get there in time, and I eventually became friends with a few of them. They helped me find my strength to finally get a restraining order and leave him. Now, not everyone knows that the most dangerous time in an abused woman's life is the first two weeks after she leaves her abuser. The police who had been to my house so many times would make rounds down my street periodically, making sure he wasn't lurking around or showing up uninvited. These men and women truly saved my life in more ways than one.

Again, I totally get that there are bad cops out there. Seriously, I do. But it's not the profession that makes someone bad. There are bad people in every profession, every walk of life, every race, every sex. The same people calling for dead cops, the same people spitting, throwing things, and screaming f*ck the police would have no problem calling them to come save the day.

This post wasn't written to change anyone's minds, rather to explain why I will always support my local department, why at Christmas time the kids and I deliver cookies to them and the fire department. They aren't paid nearly enough for the dangers they encounter on a regular basis, and things are only going to become more dangerous as time goes on.

No Longer The Frumpy Housewife!

I've been absent for a while due to health issues and family matters, so I apologize for the silence. I've been trying to get my thoughts clear on the path of this blog; it seems to have taken a path of its own. While I try my damnedest to be entertaining, I know what I'm most passionate about is family, tradition, raising children to be contributors to our society instead of complete and total drains. Sooooo, now I have to decide how many of my posts will be heavy, how many will focus primarily on my 1950s housewife life, and how many will debut...me. I can't promise any tutorials, as I'm still learning so much myself. But I do promise to share and all helpful hints, tips, or blogs I find. So, without further ado I direct your attention to The Retro Housewife Life. If you haven't checked out her site yet make sure to head over there now...well, wait until after reading this blog first.

Her page was a huge reminder of how I want to treat my family. If I can look nice when I go into public, why not look nice for the people I love most? Why do I save the crazy messy hair, the lounge clothes for the person I most want to find me attractive? Nope. Not anymore. In fact, here's a shot of me today...

Yeah, it's a little close up but I took it for Facebook to prove I indeed did successfully apply false lashes. That was literally the first time I've ever tried to put on a full set and it wasn't nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. I had on nice clothes earlier, but had to work in the chicken coop when I got home; nothing says dry cleaner like chicken poop on your vintage skirt!

One of the major game changers for me was a song The Retro Housewife posted. 

Hey, little girl, comb your hair, fix your make-up, soon he will open the door,
Don’t think because there’s a ring on your finger, you needn’t try any more.
For wives should always be lovers too,
Run to his arms the moment that he comes home to you.
I’m warning you,
Day after day, there are girls at the office and the men will always be men,
Don’t stand him up, with your hair still in curlers, you may not see him again.
Wives should always be lovers too,
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you.
He’s almost here, hey, little girl, better wear something pretty,
Something you wear to go to the city,
Dim all the lights, pour the wine, start the music, time to get ready for love.
Time to get ready for love, yes it’s time to get ready for love,
It’s time to get ready for love…

Frank Sinatra , “Wives and Lovers” 1964

Here's Dionne Warwick's version. Love it!

While the idea seems antiquated to some, those of us dedicated to living our lives as close to the traditional 1950s housewife as possible get what he's trying to say. Do you enjoy your husband farting in front of you, scratching places you'd rather not see scratched, etc? Or would you rather he continue to make you feel special, like a lady, like he did when you were dating? THAT'S what I'm trying to say! We spent so much time looking good for him, trying to win him over, then one day we decided "We got him. We no longer need to try." Nope. Not me. Not anymore.

What about you? Have you made an effort to look good for your significant other every day when they get home? (even if you work outside the home, too) Do you appreciate when he/she makes an effort to make you feel special?

Day 1 - 1950s Housewife Experiment Take 2

This morning started out fairly well. I got up, showered, did my hair and makeup and proceeded to make coffee and breakfast. Promptly after breakfast I got to work. Now, while most housewives of that time generally cleaned about 3 hours (their homes were also smaller than ours) they cleaned every day. Since I've let some of my household chores slide a little this cleaning is taking me all damn day. Did I mention I have three teenagers home from school today and tomorrow?

While I originally started out cleaning the basement to some fabulous Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett records, that eventually ended when the first child decided they wanted to watch TV. Okay, cool. Whatever.  I just proceeded to clean, and finally moved upstairs. Have you ever heard the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I think that title works perfectly for mothers. I seriously can not tell you how many times I cleaned the exact same mess, the exact same room, until I finally exploded. The oldest boy had the audacity to ask me why I was mad. I just glared at him, sweating rolling down my forehead, while he munched away on pizza and dropped crumbs all over the table I had just wiped down and the floor I had just swept.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. I broke my own rule at one point and popped onto Facebook to vent. Mothers who lived in that time assured me it was nothing new. However, my best friend's theory is that mothers were able to beat their kids back then. Either way, I can't see my grandma allowing my mom and uncles to constantly make a mess as she cleaned.

Now, on top of trying to be the perfect vintage housewife around three kids I'm also dealing with a now three-legged cat. She was originally a stray who appeared one day and refused to leave. I really didn't want twenty more barn cats so I had her spayed. Well, either some kind of a predator got a hold of her, or she got into the engine of a car and the car was started. Either way, this is Grace now.

*Grace the Wonder Cat has her own Facebook page if you'd like to keep up with her recovery.*

I don't know if you can tell by this pic but she has massive damage to her right hip and rear end, damage to the left side of her face, cuts along her back, and had her right front leg amputated. So, on top of dealing with my normal day to day life, and attempting to live life as close to the genuine 1950s housewife, I've had to play nurse to this little girl. In case you haven't guessed yet, she will now be an inside cat.

I've tried several times to download the pics I've taken through out the day, including pics of my homemade chicken and dumplings I made from my 1954 Betty Crocker's Good and Easy Cookbook.

Sorry for the horrible pic. Took it with my phone,

I had my doubts as not only was this my first attempt at making chicken and dumplings, but it was from an old cookbook. There were so few ingredients for the dumplings, yet they were delicious since they were boiled in the broth made from stewing the chicken.

Sorry I can't post a pic of the actual meal. Stupid laptop! When I figure out where I'm going wrong I'll post, I promise.

Now, on to the rest of the day...I'm freaking exhausted! I swear I'm limping and my back is so sore! The only time I sat today was to fold laundry. Other than that I was on the go non stop. Oh wait, that's not true. I had to sit while driving to find a police officer to unlock my daughter's handcuffs. Yes, you read that correctly. My darling daughter threw her key in a huff, and her brother didn't know that when he locked her wrists in those damn metal contraptions, We were able to get one wrist out with soapy water, but the other was way too tight.

So there's my first day in a nut shell. Not really a failure, but not exactly a success...not in my eyes anyway. My makeup is smeared, and my hair went crazy hours ago. Tomorrow I'm babysitting my nephews for a few hours so I'll just pretend I'm going to my bridge club or whatever they did with the other ladies back then.

Night, y'all. My poor booty needs rest!

1950s Housewife Experiment - Take 2

For those of you who have been following this blog for a while remember my first 1950s Housewife Experience. Well, guess what? I'm doing it again. This time you can find everything on my other blog, I'd Rather Be Blogging. I will be cross posting so nothing will be missed, and this blog will stay up as I plan on continuing with my housewife posts.

In the meantime, enjoy some fun, vintage commercials:

My Author website

Y'all can find my books, and any info about new releases or appearances on this site. And no, the books have nothing to do with being a housewife. lol




Home

Taking back society, one kitchen table at a time.

About eight or so years ago I took the kids on vacation to this quaint little place called Fox Springs Lodge. Every meal was served in the dining room, and the owners of the place, as well as their children, joined us every day. During one of our little get-togethers the owner said something that stuck with me to this day: Eat dinner as a family.

That sounds so simple, doesn't it? Yeah, but think about this - when was the last time you set the table (or if your kids were old enough, you had them set it while you cooked) and sat at the table as a family, and actually talked?


My husband and I formed a habit at one point where I'd bring our plates into our family room and he and I would eat on the couch while the kids sat at the table. One night I made something that required everyone to make their own plate (tacos with ALL the fixings), so I set the table. My daughter walked into the room and said "Are we going to eat like a family tonight?" Talk about a blow to the gut. Since that day we eat almost every single meal at the table together. Don't get me wrong, there are times when we'll still eat separately, but that's usually because the kids eat before my husband gets home for work. Or, like last night, he gets home well after we've had dinner so he'll sit with us while he's eating his dinner.


Maybe you can't immediately put in your resignation to stay home with your kids (if that's even a possibility for you), but why not set a specific time when everyone HAS to be home, phones off, and sitting at the table. This is a great time to discuss the day, talk about something fun that happed at school/work/practice/ whatever. If you're really brave (I am not!) let the older kids help you cook. I personally don't like anyone in there when I'm cooking, but that's because I tend to get a little distracted and will walk around the kitchen with a butcher knife in my hand! lol


We can do this, guys and gals. We can bring back family life in this country, and we don't need the government, or the news, or some stupid Facebook meme to tell us to do it.


*I found this article about the benefits of family meal time. Give it a gander.*

I'll tell you why society is falling!

Over and over we hear about kids killing kids, kids stabbing kids to honor some computer game character, kids killing PERIOD! And over and over again the same questions are asked: what went wrong? What happened? Or the ever repeated "ban guns", "it's because of violent video games/movies/TV/insert excuse here".

Do you want to know what's wrong? I can tell you right now, but I don't know if you'll believe me, or if you'll decide to take the right step or not.

YOU! You are what went wrong. Society, as a whole, is what is wrong with our kids, with the younger generation, with the future of our country and the world. Mothers (or fathers) no longer stay home to raise and guide their kids. We are told we can "have it all" and we should rush out to have our own lives and careers even if we are a mother. You know, you're right, you absolutely have that choice. BUT, since when is leaving our kids to be raised by strangers, technology, or left to their own devices, and then coming home from a long day of work to cook and clean and be completely disrespected by a kid who's never been taught otherwise considered "having it all"?

I knew at a young age that the moment I became a mother my life would change. I knew then that the moment a child came into my life it was no longer all about me. We choose to bring these kids into the world (or in my case, adopt them into our lives), so shouldn't we be determined to raise them to the best they can be? Isn't it unfair to teach a child that it's okay to NOT try his/her hardest because you'll still get a trophy. Oh boy, not in the real world you won't.

Look, I'm not saying I want to go back to a time when women didn't have a choice as to whether they wanted to work or not. What I'm saying is can we go back to a time when families meant more than careers, television, partying, internet, <insert whatever here>? Can't we go back to a time when we actually SHAMED mothers or fathers for walking out on their families? Can't we go back to a time when it was more common to be married/committed for life before starting a family instead of glorifying things like teen pregnancy by creating television shows about it?

I am not, by any means, trying to discourage you, demean you, or belittle you. It's no secret that I was a single mother once, and my children were in childcare at that time. I had no choice, as so many others don't. BUT, the moment my husband and I were married we committed to raising our kids instead of letting someone else do it. We've made sacrifices, and I even clip coupons to ensure we can afford for me to be here to guide them, to be here when they walk through the door, to keep them safe.

Maybe it's time we all choose to put our families first. Because these kids will only be little for a short period of time. Won't that college degree/dream job/corporate ladder be there when they're in high school or college?

And men, if you don't want to be a daddy, use a freaking condom. We women need to ensure that the privilege of being with us is allowed only for the worthy males, for the strong, kind males, for the ones who, indeed, want to put you and your/his family before anything else.