Dilemma

I'm having a dilemma. I am in need now of acquiring a new child for my daycare. And I really hate this process. The advertising, the fielding of phone calls, the wooing of new parents and the interview process. Ugh. It's kind of like going under the microscope over and over again. And I understand the need for parents to scrutinize. I would too. Your children are the most precious things you have, and you want to be sure that you are getting only the best care for them.
You see, the parents I work for now are used to how I run things. We are all comfortable with each other; we are all in agreement so to speak. These parents know that I am not the best housekeeper, and neither are they (or so they say). I'm not saying that there is food rotting in the kitchen (cause there's not, ever!), but I'm referring to the dustbunnies floating along the floor amongst the dried-up playdough crumbs in the children's play area, or the pieces of cut paper in the corner with crayon wrappers, or the constant (no matter how much I vacuum) massive amounts of dirt and grit greeting you at the front door.
I do clean. Occasionally. When the dirt screams at me. I don't feel the children are in any health-related danger, and since no one else has ever commented on the floors, apparently neither does anyone else.
I just hate having to constantly be on my guard when I am in this searching process. I have to always make sure everything is clean and presentable. And the hardest part is trying to make my daycare sound like it's so much more than it is. I don't lie to anyone. I don't tell them that we are doing hours of reading each day when we're not. It's not that. I mean that some parents want to know if the kids are doing crafts each and everyday, with circle time and worksheets and things. I feel a bit political when I have to make it sound positive that we're not. Because we aren't. I don't do that. Sure, we read. Sure, we do crafts. But (and this is how I put it to the potentials) I run a relaxed daycare, where the children are allowed to explore in their own way and able to develop their own self-reliance. It is kid-guided, where if the kids request a craft, we do one. If they request a story, we read one. If they just want to play all day, they do. Mix into that regular snack, meal and outdoor times, and that's how my day goes.
The other big thing I hate is the meals. Many parents want hot, healthy, four-food-group-low-sodium-low-sugar-non-processed meals. Sigh.
I totally get that. I want that for my own kids. But the reality of it is that it's just not doable.
#1. The kids don't eat it. I tried, when I first opened my daycare, serving vegs with lunch. Every day I threw them out. EVERY DAY. And then I thought to myself, why am I just cooking this, only to throw it into the garbage? It's a waste of food and money too. So I stopped. I stopped trying to be healthy, and just started giving them what they wanted while trying to be healthy enough.
#2. It's expensive. My grocery bill has gone up and up and up over the years. Do you want to know how much money I spent on groceries last year?
$14,000!!
I haven't done this year's totals yet, but that number was up $1000 from the year before. So you see why I say it's expensive. That's more than $1000/month on groceries. And that is me trying to be as cheap as possible. When things go on sale, I stock up. I don't buy expensive fruit for the kids (like berries or pineapples or things). They get apples, bananas, oranges - the cheaper fruits.
#3. I don't have the time to cook more elaborate stuff. I don't know how other providers do it, serving the kids meat, veg and potatoes or rice. Those things take longer than ten minutes to cook, or take attention. I can't be in the kitchen for that long and leave the kids unattended.
So we have sandwiches. Mac and cheese. Pizza (to me this is healthy, ok? Tomato sauce, cheese, crust, those are three food groups right there! It's the only thing my son will eat that involves tomato sauce, plus I buy it on sale and I can throw it in the oven and come back 20 mins later). Grilled cheese sandwiches. Soup. Bagels. Sometimes pancakes with bananas on top (they LOVE that meal, but again, it takes longer). Maybe once a month hot dogs (I try to even it out with whole wheat buns and carrots on the side). Sometimes chicken nuggets (if they've been on sale too).
As parents become more and more anal health conscious, I get more and more requests for the healthier meals, and even, gasp! cloth diapers. Ugh. Gross.
So here I sit and debate. I can do one of three things.
A) I can apply for a job that has been posted with the school board which involves me making and sending out a resume and cover letter along with a photocopy of several things including my non-existant up-to-date first aid/cpr certificate. I have a low chance of getting this job, as there are only a few available, and I'm sure, hundreds of ECE's who will apply for it. But it would be a nice change of pace, however I'd be making about what I make now and would have to add in the cost of transportation and daycare for my boys.
B) I can raise my fees (which I haven't done for a while) to ensure I can afford healthier, more expensive food which would probably get thrown out anyway, at the very least shunned and sneered at by the current children I care for. At that point I have to decide if I make the new kids the healthy stuff and the old kids the same stuff, which means making two different things (!) or the older kids have to learn to eat or starve.
C) I can continue on as I am and...what. Hope for the best I guess.
I think I'll be doing option A regardless, so I guess the real dilemma is between option B and C. What do you think?

A Momentous Occasion

Today was another first in my journey of being a mom. Today, I let R walk to school, get this,.......

WITHOUT AN ADULT!!

Yikes!

He wasn't alone, he was with his best bud, E. But still, my stomach is, as we speak, in nervous knots wondering if he made it ok.

Once in a while, E (who is about six months older than R, so almost 9) will come to the door in the morning in order to walk to school with R. Much of the time, he walks "with" his older brother. I put with in quotes because really, his brother doesn't stay with him. He lags behind to talk to 12 year old girls from his grade and E usually trudges on by himself. Now E is quite mature for his age. I've always been impressed by his maturity since I met him a few years ago. DH says that maturity is due to hockey (rep hockey). Whatever. He's the kind of kid you wish your kid would be friends with. Which is why I'm so glad that he and R are best buds. I hope they remain that way for a long time. E is fiercely loyal to R, will stand up for him against others, and will stand up to anyone who pisses him off, but not in a bullyish way. Which is great.

Anyhow, E often walks home from school as well by himself. The thought of that still scares me, but comforts me too, as I know he is well used to the walk alone. It may be different if I sent two newbies out on their own. But that's not the case.

So this morning, DH was supposed to be driving my two to school, as L has a little presentation/display thing in the classroom this morning that parents are invited to, and DH doesn't have to be at his own school until 11 so he could go. Since E showed up this morning, I gave the two older boys the option of riding with DH, or walking on their own. It surprised me a little that R said he'd walk. He's always been a bit of a momma's boy, scared to be on his own for anything. And a secret part of me likes that. It means he's still my little boy.

It's with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes that I write this. My little boy is proving to me that kids do continue to grow up, whether you want them to or not. And I'm proud of him. And scared for him too. I made DH promise he's check to make sure that R arrived safely when he got to school with L. I haven't heard anything yet (which is typical of DH, to let me worry) but then, no news is good news. Right? Right?

RIGHT???

Telemarketers

I HATE telemarketers!

I know, everyone does. But I hate them so much that I just ignore the phone when it's ringing. And DH hates that I do that. He gets annoyed. He says it's more annoying to sit and listen to the ringing phone than it is just to get it over with.

But I disagree. You see, most of the time, there's no one even there!! What the hell?!

My mom sent me an email the other day (that I erased and now wish I'd saved) that was about how to deal with these annoying calls, plus something about junk mail. Ok, I don't really care about the junk mail. Some kind person placed a recycling bin next to our mailboxes and so I stand there and sort the mail as soon as I take it out of the box.

It's the phone calls I hate.

Ringggg. Rinnnnnngggggggg. Ring. Ring. (Ok, that's my printed version of the long distance ring, which is always my first alert to a TM.)

Check the call display.

1-800-***-****.

Hm.

Nope, don't think I'll pick that up, thank you.

Sometimes I do pick it up (just to make DH happy, or less annoyed.)

"Hello?"

Silence.

"HELLOOOO????!!"

At this point I hang up. DH becomes annoyed anyway. He would rather wait to speak to a person, so he can tell them off. He's really good at that.

According to the email I got from Mom, most of those annoying no-one-there phone calls, are some sort of checking system; fleshing out who's home at what time, so that a REAL person can call and annoy you.

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??? Who would take that job?? Sit there, on a phone, getting yelled at by people all day long. That would be so demoralizing.

So if that email is true, is it better or worse to answer the phone? Ignore it, so that this "system" learns that no one is ever home (or will they keep calling figuring there must be some time that someone is home) or just, as DH says, answer and get it over with? I don't know.

And then there are the times when an automated voice comes on asking you to hold for "an important message." WTF is that?? And how much nerve does this company have to call and bother me at home, and then rudely ask me to hold so they can bug me some more?? That kind of thing should be illegal!

Dreams

Ever have a dream that was so disturbing you can't shake it? You want to forget it, forget your twisted brain could ever have imagined it, push it to the darkest recesses of your mind, but it just. won't. go.

I had such a dream last night. And boy, I wish this dream would evaporate. It is disturbing me to no end, and I keep rationalizing with myself that it was only a dream, and it doesn't mean anything. But it still makes me shudder. Makes me cringe. Makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

Ok, you are now wondering what was this horrific dream? Did I dream that I was murdering someone? Or perhaps that my family was wiped out by a catastrophe? Or that I aquired some sort of horrible disease?

No. No. And no.

I dreamt I was with another woman. And that I was somewhat enjoying it. (Pause here while I run to the bathroom to throw up.) And I say somewhat, because she was attempting to do something that I wasn't comfortable with, and wouldn't give in to, but the rest was ok. Herein ends the description.

I have had "lesbian" dreams before. And none of them ever incite good feelings in me once I'm awake. I always shudder at them, and thank God that they were only a dream and would remain in the privacy of my own head.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a homophobe. I don't harbour bad feelings towards gays and lesbians. I just don't swing that way.

I suppose that my brain sometimes just wants to play out the "what if?" scenario. I'm really not curious on a conscious level about experimenting with my sexuality, but maybe, somewhere deep inside of me I am. *shudder again* I think it's in the same way that my brain plays out other situations in my dreams, other "what if's?" Like, my kids being hurt, or my marriage ending, or my cheating on my husband. I don't dream these things often, but they do come up once in a while. Usually I wake up in tears, or gagging, as it were this morning.

So the very worst part of last night's dream wasn't the lesbian part. It was the 'who' part. And I won't tell you who it was. It was disgusting on soooooo many levels. The fact that I barely know this person didn't seem to matter to me in the dream, or that this person is already taken. I am so ashamed of this, that I wouldn't even admit it to my DH. I just wish, wish, wish, I could stop replaying this dream in my head!! I want to bleach my brain!!

Random Rambles

I just felt like writing something today, but I don't have any one specific thing to talk about. So here are a few random, unrelated things.

Isn't the weather beautiful? Here in Ontario it has been sunny, warm(ish) (around 9 or 10C) and the snow is melting!! God I could live outside right now. This weather makes me feel so upbeat and positive. Only I'm not outside right now, which is sad. But I will take the kids back outside soon. It still involves much dressing, but, oh well it's worth it for some fresh air. This weather also makes me want to go out shopping and spend money for some reason. Which leads to my next random thought...

I am low on kids this week. Which doesn't do anything good for my paycheque. Sigh.

My sister is maybe coming over today. I don't want to get too excited, in case things don't go her way this morning with baby A, my new niece. I fully remember the planning and undertaking trying to get out the door to go somewhere for the day with a newborn! So I won't hold my breath, but I really really hope she can make it!

Despite my good mood about the weather, I am sooooooo tired today! Ok, I hate listening to people who complain a lot about how tired they are, so I consciously try not to do it too often, especially now that I really have no more excuses to be tired! I no longer have kids that get me up in the night (unless they have a bad dream or are sick), and I am a mature adult who knows what time I need to go to bed to be well rested for my 6:00 a.m. alarm. So I really have no idea why I am feeling this lethargic and sleepy. It could be because my Aunt is here, or perhaps it's the crappy diet I've been consuming lately...

Last night I attempted to make homemade fish fry (you know, like fish&chips). I used frozen tilapia, which I've never tried before, and Bisquick mix with some beer added. I floured the fish first, then dipped it into the (pancake, basically) batter and fried it in about a half inch of oil. And then, because I'm totally paranoid all the time about undercooked meat, I put it in the oven for a few minutes with the totally disgusting homemade sweet potato fries, as well as some store-bought french fries. This was topped off with some frozen corn.
Well, the fish was just ok. The kids didn't like it too much, and L is usually good with fish & chips. I think it was the fish mostly. I won't use tilapia again. They had the regular french fries, and I had some of the sweet potato ones, trying to be more health conscious even though I really don't care for sweet potatoes. They weren't very good. And corn is just corn. The only one that enjoyed the meal was DH, so the boys and I ate some, and then topped ourselves up with ice cream bars. I know, real healthy!

Back To School

I spent this most beautiful March weekend for the most part, indoors. This was because we had a science fair project due this Monday. And I say "we" because really, do the kids ever actually do the work themselves?
I find it annoying. I sincerely do not remember my parents ever toiling over projects with me, but it seems to happen a lot in our household. I do remember my dad especially helping me out with some research and contacting various companies, but he never sat and planned/carried out the whole damn project. Is this because we (my DH and I) try to do too much for our son? Or is it because the projects that are sent home too difficult for his age? Or has the education system changed so much that more learning at home is expected? I don't know. All I know is that I already completed grade three, so why does it feel like I'm back in school again?
Several months ago, R had to plan and construct a circus float. He was supposed to use things from around the house, but like most of the parents I'm sure, my DH went out to the local dollar and craft stores and bought supplies. He also planned the float, as there were certain limitations to it (dimensions) and it had to bear a certain amount of weight. The project completed the unit on structures. It took DH and R the whole weekend to put this thing together, and to be honest, it wasn't even the best one I saw (sorry guys). This is how I know that we weren't the only ones that were "helping".
This current project was for the forces and movement science unit. The kids have to present their project, and also there will be a science fair of sorts (without the judging, just displays). The thing is, is that the outline given was rather confusing. It wasn't entirely clear what the whole expectations were, even though the marking rubric was including. But seriously, a marking rubric? How can they, in all honesty, mark this thing? For God's sake, it was sent home!! How can they give a fair mark not knowing how much work the child did, and how much the parent did? I wish I could show you the outline, but that's just too long and boring to retype (and for you to read, I'm sure). I still don't know if we did it right, but it's done now.
The kids could pick from different types of "forces"; i.e., friction, gravity, muscular force, magnetism, etc. We picked magnetism. We did a crude sort of measurement activity, where we laid a tape measure on the table, placed our "main" magnet at zero, and used several other magnets to see how close we would get before the main magnet jumped to meet them. The farther away, the stronger the magnet obviously. Then we used the magnets to move the main one around on top of various surfaces - over a glass dish, a plastic lid, a piece of cardboard, etc. This is the part I'm unsure about. I don't know how you really measure a magnet's strength, and even if I did, I'm sure I wouldn't have the scientific tools to do it. A science fair project should be very precise, and methodical, but how can an 8 year old child accomplish that? And was he supposed to research why magnets attract each other? Cause I sure as hell don't know, and all the kids websites we looked at didn't go into that much detail, so I'm pretty sure it would be a little beyond his understanding.
So we didn't really even go into scientific detail. We just took a bunch of digital pictures, and put together a real purdy Powerpoint presentation (which R has actually done before and therefore taught me how to use the program), as well as a graph (that I made on Excel), writeup (that I mostly typed and wrote while trying to encourage his input as best I could) and a poster board (that I printed all the stuff out for, helped him cut out, and laid it all out).
So can we really say this was R's project?
No.
I'm not really sure what he would have done had I not helped him. Part of me is saying maybe I just should have left him to it; see what kind of a mark he would have got. But I know that all the other parents helped their kids, and there's that mothering instinct again. The one that doesn't want to see your child fail, or be the worst in the class because they're the only one who truly did it all on their own.
So we will take whatever mark we receive. I'm not really bothered by that part so much. And I can take comfort in the fact that it did allow us to spend a weekend together instead of me cleaning while he plays with his brother, which was nice. I also got some really nice hugs and thank yous from him. And I know that there is one part he will have to do all on his own, that I can't help him with, and this part to me is almost the most important part anyway. Far beyond learning about magnetism (really, who needs to know how magnets work anyway?) I think the experience of presenting a project is what he will glean the most benefit from.

Chocolate Update II

It has now been two weeks (? not sure, feels like more!) since Lent began, and I am still on the wagon.
Mostly.
Ok, I cheated a few times.
One day I did have a hot chocolate (it was such a snowy day, the weather just called for it), and I have twice dipped my finger into the Nutella jar (only once each time).
So is that really cheating? I guess it is, if I was devout enough to actually adhere to the rules of Lent (ok, I don't even know what exactly the rules are, I don't even understand the whole meaning of it!), but for the purpose of my own experiment here, I don't feel I really cheated. My main goal was to stop eating actual chocolate, as in solid, large, pieces of it. And that has been accomplished so far. I have also stopped eating other smaller forms of it, as in chocolate chip cookies, or granola bars, etc., because once I get a taste for chocolate in my mouth, I want more and more, like an addict.
So all in all, I think I'm doing pretty well. Of course it helps now that I've run out of hot chocolate powder! ;)

Those Four Little Words

Those words you just dread, the ones you hate to hear, they strike fear in your heart:
"I Don't Feel Well"
Arrrggghhh!
I guess it's good that my kids are at an age now that they can actually express that. Better than the toddler age when you just have to make that assumption based on their behaviour.
But God, I hate hearing those words. Every mother does, I know. But for me, it's on a whole other level.
I am practically a vomit-phobe. Emetaphobia. I looked it up. I don't have an "intense" fear, per se, but the thought of it immediately starts my stomach churning, my hands a-shaking, and cold sweats to break out. I don't know why. You'd think someone like me would be used to it, working in the childcare field.
I can't stand listening to someone vomit, watching it, and of course smelling it. Ugh. I was NEVER that wonderful caring girlfriend that would hold your hair back after a night of binge drinking. If you were that person, I admire you. If you were the vomiter, you were on your own, and I'd be far, far away from you.
I can count on the fact that if my kids utter those words, any constipation I may have had is now a thing of the past. Gross, I know. Probably more info than you wanted. But the whole stressful situation just has that effect on me.
So last night when R told me he wasn't feeling well, his tummy was upset, my own body went into overdrive. Every time my kids are sick, I can never tell if I'm actually getting what they're getting, or just my own body's over-reaction to it all.
At least we are finally at a point with the two of them now that they mostly recognize the nausea, and if I give them some sort of container (lately it's been the old potty catcher, the part you pull out and empty out from the potty) they'll use it. Thank God for that!
Poor R suffered with nausea for the whole afternoon and evening before his stomach finally purged itself. I so hate feeling that way - that waiting to barf phase. I even gave him Gravol which obviously did nothing. Today he is up in bed, far away from the rest of the kids, but still feeling nauseous and miserable. Poor kid.
And here's another reason why I hate the whole sick thing in my house. In this house we can't just have a normal sick day. No lounging on the couch, no peace and quiet with screaming babies downstairs. I can't even spend the day cuddling my sickies (although the bad mother part of me is kind of glad about that), because I have to be with the other kids.
And then the worse part of the fear that I get sick is that I have to make the choice to either work through my own sickness, or close the daycare down for the day (or however long I'm sick for). And I have to make that decision early. Like by 5:30 or so that morning. And then if I do close down, I'm inconveniencing all the families, plus I'm not getting paid. So that adds to my whole phobia of stomach bugs.
So there you have it. Just a little quirk about me.
Pray this ends with R, and doesn't spread to the rest of us.

On Men

**DISCLAIMER: THIS BLOG CONTAINS MUCH COMPLAINING AND BITCHING, SO IF YOU AREN'T IN THE MOOD FOR READING THAT, DON'T PROCEED. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!**


DH and I have been together this March for 15 years. Let me say that again.
15 YEARS!!!
We have been married for 9 (10 in October) years, but I can't believe we've been with each other for that long. It blows my mind.
That being said, I still do not get men. I guess I never will. Our relationship is pretty static, but there are still things we're working on. Things I still question when they happen, and I guess maybe that lasts forever??? I don't know.
I try very hard to not be like my mother. And I see little bits of her in me all the time. She took her relationship with my father for granted, I think. This is not to say that I blame her for the dissolution of their marriage, because I don't. That is another topic, but long story short, both parties are to blame there.
I just think that from my point of view as a child, I only saw my mother "being mean to my dad". Ok, I should explain that better. Keep in mind, this is the POV of a child. She constantly criticized him, and harped and nagged on him, and shrugged off his affections. That part, the affections part, I remember the most. And that is the part that I catch myself doing from time to time, and internally chastise myself about. I don't want to be like that.
Of course, now, as an adult, a wife, and a working mother of two, I can TOTALLY see where she was coming from with the nagging and the berating. It's hard to be all these things, and still be a positive person! A wife, a lover, a partner, a best friend, a mother, a nurse, a chauffeur, a cook, a cleaner, and a career person (in my case, babysitter of other's children.) Those are so many hats to wear in a day. And let's not forget that we are constantly being told by magazines, professionals, talk shows, etc, that we need to take time for ourselves and just be ourselves somewhere in there as well. I don't think men understand how much pressure we women are under to be so many things, and to be good at them! And some guys do get it, for the lucky women that have them, like my two BIL's. God, my sisters are lucky to have them!
But just a little help once in a while, without having to ask would be nice. But so many men don't understand that, and when we do ask, we get told we're nagging. Now I will be the first to admit that we don't always ask in the nicest ways. But really, should we have to?? At the point when we have to ask our DH's for help, we're usually at the end of our rope, and we have no more patience or "niceness" left in us. And it's because we bottle it up, bottle it up, bottle it up, for fear that we are labelled as the nagging wife. Then the bottle can't hold anymore, and the cork pops. I feel like we shouldn't have to ask, men should just know. So guys, take a hint when the eyes start rolling, and the huffing or the sighing begins. Those are the signs that the cork is going to pop!
Now back to the original purpose of this blog entry. This morning, I was annoyed because DH had left the gas fireplace on ALL NIGHT! Not only is this a waste of gas, but it also makes the rest of the house damn cold, especially when the thermostat is set lower for nighttime. I also happened to ask him if he had put gravy on the leftover dinners he prepared last night, to which the answer was no.
WHY?
WHY?
Ok, he knows I like gravy. He knows I believe it is practically a sin to waste gravy. He must know that, we've been together for 15 effing years now! And we've also had this "argument" before. So why would he neglect to use up the leftover gravy by putting it onto the leftover meat? To me, it just seems thoughtless and selfish. He totally was not thinking of me AT ALL.
I know it's such a small thing, but it just irks me so, because I know that D (my BIL) would NEVER EVER do that to my sister N. She is always in his thoughts. He is always thinking of her.
But really all that was said regarding that situation was "Did you...." and "Why not?" That is it. I didn't go on afterwards like I could have (and did in this blog), I left it at that. I didn't even huff. So really in all fairness, was I complaining there or nagging? I don't think so.
Then I brought up the fireplace because again, I thought it needed to be brought to his attention, and it's careless yet again. He knows, as I've told him before, that when he has the fire on at night (while staying up all hours watching tv) that it makes the upstairs frigid.
THOUGHTLESS.
So that, I did complain about. And he didn't like it. Not one bit. He hates when I complain about things (who doesn't really?) and he gets SOOOOOO DEFENSIVE!! And I only said one thing, but he considered it two. That in turn makes me mad. I mean, why shouldn't I be allowed once in a while to complain about something, point out something that is bothering me?
And here is where I get into a quandry. I try so hard not to be like my mother, complaining and nagging all the time, but on the other hand, I feel that we should be allowed to express our dissatisfaction about things. I really bottle a lot of things up. There are SOOOOO many things that I could complain about, and I don't, because I don't want to be a nagging wife. But then when am I allowed to say something. Should I just allow myself to be walked on? Are my concerns not relevant? So what exactly am I allowed to complain about, is what I want to know.
Here is another point of contention.
On the weekend, we helped my sis, S, move. This weekend also happened to be the start of DH's March break from school. So he has plans that he is going to paint my oldest's room. He was somewhat disgruntled on Saturday because I had told my mother and sister N that after we helped S, we would go over to their's for dinner. He "didn't expect to be gone all day, and had wanted to get started on R's room."
Well, too bad. I don't get to see my family as often as I like, and I'm not going to rush home and not see them just because he had plans he failed to mention to me. And I am sure that he wouldn't have carried those plans out anyway for a couple of reasons.
A) We ended up staying at N and D's later than normal because he couldn't tear himself away from the tv set and the gold medal curling game, so why would he have been stripping R's room if he was wanting to watch that?
B) He is currently upstairs playing the Wii. It is now 10:30 Monday morning, and he hasn't set foot in R's room.
So what was the big rush? I think he just didn't want to hang out with my family (why I don't know) and to that I say tough sh*t and if I have to hang out with his, then it goes both ways!! Never mind that the past few times I've been over to their place, he hasn't come.
So here we are again. Me, bottling it up. I could go upstairs and point out that he was so eager to get going on the room on Sat. and so what happened? I could even go up there and point out that he is being a lazy ass and to go get a job. But that's just getting a little bitchy, don'tcha think? (And yeah, I'm sitting here blogging, so that'd be a little like the pot calling the kettle black.)
But I won't.
Because again, I don't want to be labelled as a nagger.
So now I have to come up with a creative way to point out what he should be doing. Perhaps I will ask him if I should help him to start cleaning up in there, or moving furniture, or something of that nature.
See, woman also have to be creative and manipulative too.