Rambling Preamble to the Real Women Meme

When I read the first part of Nutmeg's post on Real Women, I thought immediately of something I wrote almost twenty years ago. Further down, I found that she had tagged me to do it too, and so the hunt began.....

"Where did I put it? Where the hell is it? I know I put it here."

There's usually some logic to where I stash things----hush you in the peanut gallery, there is...its just not your garden-variety logic. Finally, after tears of frustration, and muttered imprecations about my untidy mind, I found it. In the first place I had looked---just not thoroughly enough.....sigh.

For a little background. We were living in Montana. It was the middle of winter. There was snow on the ground and frost in the air. Liz was in tenth grade, the boys were in seventh and fifth, California Girl was four or five, and always ready to divest herself of whatever warm clothing I had trussed her up in, and escape to the outdoors to run naked in the snow. The YS was still in diapers. And if you're not tired already, just thinking about that much, we also had two rambunctious springer spaniels, barely out of puppyhood. There was a shadowy figure we called Dad in the picture, but he was a squadron commander at the time and always at work.

The day in question was one of those, where, from the moment your feet hit the floor in the morning, everything goes wrong. When the children came home from school everyone was milling around the kitchen, which was none too spacious. Strange and noxious fumes were emanating from the diapered one. And THEN someone let the dogs in. Joyous dogs they were, and I loved them dearly, just not at that particular moment on that particular day. They had their dancing shoes on, courtesy of Mr. Montana Winter, and they were ecstatic to see the kids. Bedlam. Screeching children. Excited, tap-dancing,vigorously tail-wagging,enthusiastically drooling dogs, muddy ice quickly turning to muddy slush all over the kitchen floor..... Something exploded inside my head.

"Out!" I roared. I had to roar. No one would have heard me if I'd spoken in my normal, civilised voice.

"Out of my kitchen! All of you! And don't come back!"

They scattered. To bedrooms, to the basement, to Timbuktu, for all I cared. I slammed the door shut, grabbed some paper and a pen, sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor, and through tears of rage aud frustration, wrote the following advertisement, which I had every intention, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, of sending to the classified section of the newspaper.


"Wanted ASAP!

One warm and kindly woman, to care for five children, their father and their dogs.
Must be a refined person, even-tempered, understanding and infinitely patient.
Should be content to work for love, not filthy lucre.
Must agree, in writing, never to develop the flu, a headache, an upset stomach, an aversion to children, or anything that might hinder her in the proper discharge of her duties.
Said duties will include cooking, cleaning, dusting, scrubbing, and laundry ---in its multi-faceted glory. In addition, the applicant will be on call twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty two weeks a year. This cannot be over-emphasised as unforseen emergencies occur with regularity.

A very dim view would be taken of an applicant likely to come unglued at the sight of broken bones, split chins, gaping wounds or gushing blood. An iron constitution is imperative.

The successful applicant should be a person of humble, self-effacing disposition, since the pursuit of personal interests might lead to discord in the household. Of course this requirement would be waived in the desirable, but unlikely,event the applicant actually gets her jollies from scrubbing, cooking, cleaning, dusting,and laundry in its multi-faceted glory.

The person selected will find she spends most of her day caring for the children, ensuring that they are at all times clean, warm, well-fed and healthy. The littlest girl has a penchant for running naked in the snow; the boys show little interest in wearing clothing appropriate to the season, and have a particular aversion to baths and picking up their toys.

It would be expected of the successful applicant that she would overcome these minor problems in a cheerful and positive manner. She should strive to maintain a calm, harmonious atmosphere, and never resort to such extreme measures as locking the little darlings in their rooms and throwing the keys down the toilet, or forcing them to go to bed without ice cream. Gentle persuasion is preferred at all times to ranting and raving, especially in family room combat situations. She must be mindful always of their delicate psyches. Hers however, should be of steel.

The applicant will find it is easier to achieve peak performance in her duties if she can arrange to have six additional hours in her day instead of the usual twenty four.

While the older children are in school, in addition to the younger two, she will have complete charge of the family dogs. Their intake of playdoh, which the pre-schooler generously shares with them, must be carefully monitored to ensure that it does not exceed the USRDA for dogs under one year. The applicant's chances of securing this job will be greatly enhanced by the ability to wield a poopie-scooper with skill and a pleasant smile.

The father will be the easiest part of this job, departing as he does, before dawn, and returning well after dark. His requirements are few ---sporadic feeding, a steady stream of clean underwear and shirts, and peace and quiet on his rare sojourns at home.

This highly desirable job is available only because the person currently holding the position is losing her grip on reality and will be departing soon to take up beachcombing in the Bahamas.

Qualified applicants may obtain further details from Molly Bawn. But hurry. She may have a better day tomorrow."


So there you have it. Real women, as much as they love being moms and wives, need to have breathing space, and time,once in a while, just a little time, to remember who they were before life swept them away on this marriage, children, mortgage, sleep deprivation roller-coaster ride. Guilty as charged.

Did I hear someone mutter "procrastinator"? Once again, guilty as charged........I'm thinking, I'm thinking! More next post.....

Alphabet Meme

Isabelle tagged me for this a few days ago, so, jumping right in.....

Available/single? No, married thirty seven years this summer. The OC's comment? "Seems like a lifetime!" He's not much for the gushing....

Best friend? First I'd have to define "best" friend. I'd say it was someone with whom you are totally at ease, and who unconditionally accepts you, warts, smelly feet, paranoia and all. I have several dear friends from all the places we've lived, including here. But my best friend, hands down, is my sister. The OC is always in awe of how much she and I talk, and talk and talk, when we're together....

Cake or pie? My daughter's Brown Bag Apple Pie. It's actually sealed inside a paper bag as it bakes! Best ever. Followed closely by French Silk and Chocolate Pecan.

Drink of Choice? Tea, preferably Barry's, with milk and sugar please.

Essential item I use every day? Electric tea kettle. Car.

Favourite color? Blues and greens, especially together. I also like lavender and related shades....BUT! Once, when we lived in Belgium, I had a good friend, Julia. We used to meet once a week and explore different parts of the city. One day we strayed into the red light district, and somehow it came up, that in her country, Bulgaria, purple is the colour for prostitutes! So, when in Bulgaria, do not wear purple, unless of course, you're looking for some action.....

Gummy bears or worms? Neither. I'll have a heath bar or some spearmint mentos, thank you.

Hometown? Limerick, Ireland.

Indulgence? Soaking in a warm bath while reading a book or doing sudoku.

January or February? February. Sweater weather. Best time of the year in Florida.

Kids and their names? Five. They probably wouldn't want me putting them out here.

• Liz is the oldest, no secret there, since she uses her name on her blog. We, her family, are probably the only people she knows who still call her Elizabeth. It was my grandmother's name, and is my middle name . I always thought it would have been much more satisfactory if they'd given me that as my first name. She also answers to the name of a ferocious striped animal, generally found in a zoo. Even though she is very feminine and dainty, back in infancy she had a fearsome roar.
• If you rooted around in the British royal family, you'd find our oldest son's name.
• Second son was named after the OC. He wanted his own identity though, so, in his teens, choose the other end of the name [it's a long one] and goes by that, for short. Which makes him sound like a Russian space station.
• When our California Girl was born she had tiny little ears, pink and soft, folded in against her head like flower petals. Her name sounds like a flower.
• And last, but not least [he's the tallest], our youngest son has a name like a Russian tzar.

Life is incomplete without? The OC, the human hot water bottle.

Marriage date? 22 nd. August, 1970.

Number of siblings? Two. A brother and a sister.

Oranges or apples? Apples. In pie, as is, applesauce on potato pancakes.....

Phobias or fears? None really, but I wouldn't like to be caught in an earthquake.That would freak me out for sure.

Quotes--favourite? How much time do we have? Because I couldn't possibly limit it to one ....Confucius say "Better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness." "Treat your friends like family, and your family like friends." "People will forget what you said, they'll forget what you did, but they'll never forget how you made them feel." "Treat people as if they were what they ought to be, and you will help them to become what they are capable of being." And my all time favourite, Kahlil Gibran On Children

Reason to smile? Grandchildren. Favourite songs. Blog comments.

Season? Growing up?---Summer. Here?---Spring.

Tag people? Liz and Kelli.

Unknown fact about me? In my last year of high school I was school captain. My most important duty was the ringing of the clangy old bell--such fun to make so much noise and get away with it!

Vegetable you dislike? Eggplant. Yuk.

Worst habit? Where is the OC when you need him? I have a habit of burning food. Even as I was writing this, I paused to put some eggs on to boil, to make some egg salad, set the timer for five minutes, then came back to this. Totally missed the beep, and now the house stinks---of burned.boiled.eggs. Even I have trouble believing I could do this. Who burns boiled eggs? I'm sure there are more, and worse, but this is the one assailing my nostrils at the moment.

X-rays you've had? Chest, neck and dental; mri of wrists and ankles.

Your favourite food? Potatoes. How cliche is that? I love mashed potatoes, baked potatoes [with butter, no sour cream], potato pancakes, potato soup, pierogies, potato salad, croquettes----but small servings. I don't have a big appetite.

Zodiac sign? Gemini