Get It Together, Woman

20161011_174858-01It was recently pointed out to me by a male counterpart (and I am sure a trustworthy source like Hillary’s email) that after my last rant about woman logic, women are twelve percent more likely to be violent during road rage.  After I talked myself out of taking a swing on the unsuspecting dude, I sorta decided to go ahead and let my calm, cool woman logic prevail…hahahaha.

Even I was surprised by how quickly and fluidly the words came in my retort to his ridiculous accusation! And I felt the urge to justify my position because…

I am pretty sure if road rage did in fact occur, it happened for the following reasons:

It was morning, and we are responsible for EVERYTHING in the morning. Kids. Pets. Husbands. Lunches. Dinner. Not many men are around to get the kids out the door along with themselves in a fashionable and timely manner to work and school.  I’m past the diaper bag routine, but I am not too sure a teenage son is any quicker.  How can something that refuses to shower and change clothes on a daily basis take so damn long in the bathroom? However, he still wants to know if his favorite shirt is clean.  So while you’re brushing your teeth, drawing on an eyebrow, and writing a check for school lunches, you find his favorite shirt in the dirty clothes pile, give it a quick sniff, and throw it at him while pouring yourself a cup of coffee.  While pouring the cup of coffee, you think about dinner.  Dinner must consist of meat and potatoes and no food touching other food, and all you really want to do is pull the cork on the opened bottle of delicious vino and swig until you feel warm and fuzzy. Forget it. Dinner can wait, and  if all else fails, there’s a box of Captain Crunch.

When son finally emerges from what smells like a locker room and grunts and groans because he has to make his own breakfast, you’re trying to draw on the other eyebrow, change your outfit for the 3rd time because your shoes make you feel fat.  Somehow, you still end up with  the black bra and the white shirt, spill your coffee on your white shirt, and have to start all over again.

Your hair looks terrible, and you decided maybe a curling iron will fix the mess, but the dog needs out for her morning constitutional.  Your son ignores you when you ask him to let the dog out, so you do it yourself, and the horses whinny at you when you open the door as a reminder they still need fed.  So, you kick off your flats, tuck your dress slacks in your muck boots and pitch out the hay.

You return inside to finish fixing your hair, which is now littered with hay,  while realizing you are now ten minutes late.  You yell at your kid to get his ass in gear, and remind him to brush at least one layer of scum off his teeth or he will never get a girlfriend. (And the irony of this dawns on you. Why would the kid want a girlfriend? One crazy, bossy lady telling him what to do is enough!)

You make it to the car, peel out of the driveway, cold coffee in hand while mentally tackling your day at work, making a grocery list, reminding yourself that it’s been 2 years since you’ve had great sex, (better put that on your to do list), and somewhere in that thought, you remember you still need hairspray. Which reminds you..shit… you’re pretty sure the curling iron is still on.  So, you whip a u-turn, note the clock and that you are now 20 minutes late. You swerve around deer, yell at your kid, and mash the pedal to the floor, skid sideways into the drive and rush in the house only to find you actually did unplug the curling iron.

You peel back out of the driveway, cussing squirrels and rabbits scurrying for their lives, you honk at slow pedestrians, and stupid Sunday drivers while giving them the Cali one finger wave.  Your curse words flow freely. Your blood pressure is sky-high. You’re blowing snot and breathing fire. And coincidentally, Ozzy Osbourne’s “Bat Outta Hell” is blaring through the speakers, while your kid looks at you in complete awe from the passenger seat.

But, somehow you deliver your son unscathed and on time for school, with an enhanced list of vocabulary words because you broadened his horizons on the drive, and you walk through the doors at work with  a smile on your face, coffee-stained shirt, and crooked eyebrows ready to face the day!

It ain’t road rage…. It’s mad mother skills.

Happy Trails & Skilled Driving Ladies,

Heather

Advertisements

A Choice

Decision making…we are always one decision away from a totally different life. Often, the hardest part of making a choice isn’t the decision itself, but thinking about the results of it. You have to go with your heart, and just move forward. Maybe things will go well, maybe they won’t. Every decision results in consequence. The only assuredness there is is that indecision robs you of precious time. And you wind up wishing you had the courage to jump. May your decisions be made out of hope, not fear. And when it’s real and right, you’ll know. You won’t be confused about it. Get busy living. ❤

That’s Woman Logic


Women think we have a logical reason for everything we say and do, whether subtle or blatant.  We don’t understand ourselves any more than the next person, but we always promise an entertaining and enlightening adventure…

For instance, why do we wax or tweeze our eyebrows just to draw them back on? Woman logic. Somewhere in our warped little mind, society has trained us that perfect eyebrows must look better shaped and sculpted and painted on. Who really knows whey we think this looks better?

Why do we eat cucumbers and drink purified water all day and binge drink wine at night? Because we spend all day counting calories and counting steps and counting pounds, and at the end of the day, it was just one giant disappointment. A woman knows her chocolate goes better with wine anyway. Woman logic.

We push leftovers on our families. We shall not waste! We must save money!  We will eat the week old leftover meatloaf before we grocery shop. But…we will try 42 different kinds of face cream at the low, low price of $39.99 each because the first 41 were complete crap. Woman logic.

We sigh. And act dramatic. And make a big deal out of empty toilet paper rolls, overflowing garbage cans, and unemptied dishwashers.  This is our opportune moment to express and perfect our passive, aggressive behaviors by not saying what we want or need.  We sort of relish in making the moment miserable.  Woman logic.

We don’t care where you decide to eat.  But for the love of God, please do not go to the first twelve places you just named.  None of them sound good, and well, we just aren’t feeling it. However, a nice place with a variety on their menu sounds good so we can take an hour to decide what to eat, while ordering everything to the side.  Woman logic.

Date night is a very big deal.  We hint at our male half telling him how long it has been since we’ve been on one.  And when it finally happens, we {gasp!} shave legs, pick out a nice outfit, apply perfume and make-up and take hours getting ready for said date night, only to walk out and ask your guy “how do I look?”  And when he responds, “you look fine, are you ready?” We roll our eyes, storm back to the bedroom, change clothes at least five times, and cry because we are pretty sure he thought we looked fat. And don’t expect the night to end in magical fireworks, because we probably will still be crying and just want you to hold us. That’s woman logic.

We strategically place laundry hampers in places that we think men will notice them, and try to help our men feel more successful about helping out, only to find the the giant pile of dirty laundry stacked next to the hamper.  So we move it to an easier, less subtle location with high hopes of him actually using it the next time.  And get mad two hours later when he clearly still doesn’t it. There’s no need to move it again… he ignored you just fine the first time. Be mad.  That’s woman logic.

A woman is a complex, strange being. Good luck figuring us out, because we are still trying to do the same.  The study of woman logic is on-going, expensive, and intricate, and there are no conclusive results expected any time soon.

Hang in there guys… Haven’t you always enjoyed a perplexing and thrilling mystery?  In the meantime, there is still good, old, reliable beer, hunting, and football.

Happy Trails,

Heather