My husband and I go round-and-round regarding our family's wardrobe. I think we should each have more than 5 shirts in the closet and he thinks more than that is extravagant. He thinks that since we were only born with 2 feet, having more than 1 pair of shoes is a waste of money. He doesn't understand that women (and girls) need more than just a pair of sneakers. And the mere mention of needing a new purse is like stabbing him in the heart.
There are many things my husband prides himself on being, but a clothes-horse is not one of them. If you were to look in our closet, you'd see he has 10 shirts. Of those 10 shirts, he only wears 5 of them regularly. The 5 he wears are short-sleeved golf shirts and he wears them year-round. The other 5 are long sleeved shirts in case the universe experiences another ice age.
He considers my side of the closet to be overburdened by clothing and believes that if I donated half of it, I could clothe the entire continent of Africa. He just doesn't understand the female wardrobe. Women's clothes aren't as versatile as men's. We can't wear a golf shirt to dinner, drinks with the girls, or to an afternoon tea, like men can.
He has no understanding women need clothes for work, play, church, nights out on the town, and formal occasions, nor does he understand the different levels of each one of those clothing categories. Women have formal business attire for meeting with clients, as well as everyday casual work attire. Then you have to throw the "Fun Friday" attire into the mix.
His reasoning was flawed when he surmised that I could get rid of 2 of the 3 pairs of pants which were the exact same design. As a woman, I also have multiple different sizes of clothes. Yes, I have my fat, skinny, and just-right clothes. How much chocolate I've eaten, whether or not I've exercised, and whether the moon is waxing or waning, are all factors which will determine the size clothing I am wearing on any given day.
My husband has 1 pair of shoes which he wears with most everything. A good old pair of sneakers. He cannot understand why a woman needs so many different styles of shoes. He thinks a pair of Sketchers should go with a designer dress, formal attire, and all of my casual outfits. I've had to purchase fashion magazines to show him that women really do have different shoes for each outfit.
But, one thing he learned a long time ago which is not up for discussion: my purses. He made the mistake of asking why I needed 25 different styles of purses. He even suggested that I pair the collection down to just one purse. That's when he learned that nothing will get his 10 shirts and 1 pair of sneakers kicked out of our house faster than suggesting I downsize my purse assortment.
I had to explain to him that while I do not carry my large Louis Vuitton zip top purse every day, if ever there was a major cataclysmic event, I could throw the contents of my entire household into that bag. We wouldn't have to eat bugs like on the tv show "Survivor" because I'd have canned goods, a can opener, chocolate, bagged donuts, chips, canned meat, and vegetables all snuggled safely within its confines. I've even been thinking lately of purchasing a generator to keep stored inside the bag. You never know when you might have a need to heat up a can of beanie-weenies in the Outback.
Now whenever bad weather strikes and we have to go to the inner-most room of our house to take cover, I yell that I have the kids, dog and pillows, and he yells back that he has thrown his body over my purse collection. Yes, as long as the Louis Vuitton survives, we'll be just fine........
Written by: Christie Bielss
How do you define sexy? I used to think sexy was a good looking man, built well, dressed nicely, and being more attentive to me than to his own reflection in any mirrored surface he came in contact with. I'm not sure when it happened or even why, but as I've gotten older my idea of what is sexy has changed dramatically.
Last night our children, in the course of washing the dinner dishes, threw the leftover broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots down the garbage disposal. Our disposal hasn't been working really well lately and we're putting off replacing it until we remodel that side of the kitchen. Anyway, the sink became so clogged it shot water a good 6-7 feet across the kitchen. You can read about the whole entertaining incident on The Redhead Sez Facebook page here.
It came to me this morning as my husband tackled disassembling the pipes under the sink to unclog the drain: muscles and good lucks are no longer a requirement to being thought of as sexy in my book. Nope. Pulling nasty, stinky gunk out of the sink drain so I can have a working kitchen sink is the new sexy. Cleaning the dishes, vacuuming the floors, helping the kids with their homework, doing laundry, and cooking dinner are the new sexy.
Picking up the kids from school, stopping at the grocery store to pick up some needed food item without complaining, making up the bed, and straightening the sofa cushions are the new sexy. While that well-built physique is nice to begin with, it doesn't hold a candle to the man with a little more meat-on-his-bones physique with a receding and/or graying hairline that is handling household chores and keeping the kids in order so I can have a few minutes, or even an evening off, to rest. Yes, now that is the new sexy.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you wish for it not to happen, life falls apart around you. Do you throw your hands up in the air and succumb to the pressures or do you hang on to your faith and hope knowing this time will pass?
You may be wondering where this crazy redhead went again. Well, life took a bit of a crazy turn and my husband lost his job. It's been a very difficult week as we have tried to make sense of it all.
You would think we would be sad, beaten down, and even dismayed at having to be out looking for a job in this job market. We were. There was a feeling of loss and anger, but we've picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off, and are moving forward. God will put us where He wants us to be and we just have to trust. So faith and hope is the path we have chosen.
What is it like when your husband is suddenly under foot every minute of every day? Well, let's just say it's like having a toddler around again. You can't open the refrigerator without him asking what you're eating. You can't talk on the phone with your girlfriend because he wants to join in on the conversation and make witty remarks about you both. And heaven forbid if you should want to quietly use the ladies room. Having my husband home is similar to having a Royal Herald announcing my every move "The Redhead is now going to the kitchen! The Redhead is going to vacuum! The Redhead is hiding in the ladies room!".
Obviously this underfootedness is not conducive to anything getting done. My house hasn't been vacuumed or dusted, the laundry is still in the dryer from a few days ago, my bathrooms make roadside rest stop lavatories look clean, and there is really no point in even fluffing the sofa cushions since he's parked his derriere there with the television remote alternating between the many channels that are about restoring old cars.
So what is a poor, beleagured wife to do? Well let me give you a hint. Get an inexpensive spiral notebook and a pen and start making a honey-do list. Put everything you could ever think of and dream of on this list. A few of mine include: use the Shop-Vac to suck out the alien life form that's clogging our daughter's sink drain, dead-head the geraniums, grease all of the door hinges so every time a door is opened it doesn't sound like the Addam's Family home, spray bug killer around the house so I don't have to share my toothbrush, use the toothpaste the children have so generously left on the bathroom counters and sinks to buff out stains on the bathroom countertop.
All of the trash cans in our house (as well as the ones that go to the curb) could use a good scrubbing, so I made sure to write those down too. I have even listed for him to use the extendable feather-duster to dust all of the cobwebs out of every ceiling corner in every room, and tighten all of the toilet bases more securely to the floor.
We have really big oak trees in our backyard and my husband's pretty handy, so I wrote down an idea for him to make a tree swing. I figure that will take at least 6 months to complete and it's an outdoor activity.
I showed my husband the spiral and after reading what I've written down so far, he said he appreciated all of my hard work in creating such a detailed list. He went so far as to say that my list was "inspiring" .............. inspiring him to check all of the new job postings multiple times a day. My work here is done........
by: Christie Bielss
We have been undergoing a major kitchen renovation that we are doing ourselves. In all honesty, we probably should've written in to the DIY network's show "Renovation Realities" and had them come film our progress.
Because I've been the one doing the painting and such, Mike and the kids have taken on some of my weekly tasks to ease my burden. Isn't that sweet? Maybe, maybe not. I've been noticing a build-up of dust on the floors and have repeatedly asked that they be vacuumed. In the past couple of days when I ask, Mike will go and get the kids and after some whispered discussion, I'll hear the vacuum being run for a while. Today, after being chased by a dust bunny the size of a Great Dane, I struck out in search of my vacuum. The picture above is what I found. Duct tape - it can solve any problem.........but only if you actually cover the hole you broke in the sucker hose in multiple places.
Thinking I might just go out and buy a new vacuum, toss the broken one in the trash and act like the new one is my old vacuum - just to see how they react. I'm betting I'll have some rascally houseguests: Wasn't Me, I Didn't Do It, and I Don't Know.......
by: Christie Bielss
