What I Want

By now my readers have gathered from my title and description that I am an unmarried housewife. But what would it take to make this girl into a married housewife? Guys take note for I will be talking about my standards. Who knows, maybe you can bring this knowledge home to bag yourself your own unmarried housewife!

If you match this picture you win!


Step One: Have a great personality.

Yes, I love me a guy with personality. Good humor is a must, especially since, let's just face it; I'm a little weird. Charisma, intelligence, creativity, patience, and the ability to go with the flow is a given necessity. If he can make me laugh, let me know everything no matter what will be okay in the end and make me feel special, I'll be a happy girl.

Step Two: Have the will to succeed.

Any man who's going to be in it will have to have his head firmly planted on his shoulders. Wishy-washiness, a lack of effort, or laziness are traits that will not only turn me off but turn me away. That means that the guy in question will take action in life, not sit on his hands.

Step Three: Don't have more issues than me.

Let's just face it. I've known a lot of guys. They always started nice, funny, and cute. Soon enough the moment a relationship starts or shortly there after, they turn into complete freaks. If you're real messed up then seriously, save me and yourself the effort and don't even bother. I'd like to find at least one relatively normal, functional guy at some point in my young life. Seriously, how hard can it be? I'm strange enough, I want the future kids to stand some chance for semi-normalcy.


Now seeing as I just described a male of mythical proportions let's get into the spirit and take the piss out of things.

Step Four: Military men are H-O-T.

Yes, let's go with my favorite kink because I can. Fantasy man would be in the Military. Nothing quite like a well-trained, peak performance male especially in uniform to make me all giggly. I might be a complete homebody, but come on, a girl can so dream that she'll end up with a tasty man in uniform. Plus side is in theory, mister army man would have the discipline, the drive, the delectablness, and won't be completely bonkers.

Step Five: Do things for me.

Fantasy man will do nice things for me because he's nice and likes me to be happy. Small things like a phone call from work, an unexpected kiss, telling me he missed me when he's been away. Stuff like that. Small romantic things. It doesn't take extravagant things to make me feel touched. Just doing that small extra step warms my heart.

Now I know not every guy will be some hot, ripped man laying on a bed of money and slathered in chocolate and have a top end job (not that I wouldn't mind) but a girl can dream though can't she?

Now that's what I'm talking about!

After notes:

Don't take this post too seriously. It's all in good fun.

My Little Pony Beer Bottle

WeaselMomma made a deliciously funny post today about mini bottles of beer. I took it much too literally and visualized what a "pony" bottle would look like. Silly WeaselMomma, why hide your pony bottles behind a toaster when you can hide them in plain sight?
Yes! My Little Pony bottles for your beer. Twist the head off and drink. Every case would come with several differently posed ponies all baring their company logos. It is eco friendly! Afterall, when you're done with them, just hand them over to your darling childen to play with. With your My Little Pony bottles you won't have to hide your habit, you're drinking for your kids. Just see how happy they'll be when you finish off a round. They'd even beg you to drink your beer so they could recieve empty pony bottles.

We all know kids love packaging material so even if they've never touched any of the My Little Pony toys you've actually paid good monies for, they're sure to play endlessly with your spent bottles. The double advertisement can keep their prices low as well! Everybody wins!

- The Unmarried Housewife

P.s. Accepting partnership in all beer compaigns so long as I never have to drink the stuff.

From the Flawed Logic of a Child

Over here at the Unmarried Housewife's household things have been an off and on battle to remind Kid exactly how things work. As you all may recall poor Pa has been watching the whelp whilst I cavorted about in Iowa with my sister, the Microblogologist. As you also remember, Kid became a completely wild child with my sixty something sickly Pa behind the wheels of the bratmobile.

Poor Bratling, to be five, her cherished maternal figure who was also her discipline regime, gone. How else was she to act? Too bad for her the discipline force doesn't humor her off behavior. It was not so bad whilst Microblogologist around, though Kid took it upon herself to tattle on me every time I tried to enforce something or get her to do something like... oh I don't know. Return the things she took out of my room and lost or clean up a mess she entirely made. She'd come up with the many excuses to go to the area her other auntie was in and tell on me. Oy vey.

This leads to my current punishment on Kid. Because she trashed my room, broke some of my things and lost others whilst I was away I took the computer away from her for the rest of her winter vacation. Kid logic dictates that Pa's computer, however, is free game. So after my wake up call of little clomping feet going up and down the hall reached me and I coffeed myself up to a tolerable level I came downstairs. What did my eyes see before me but Kid, on the computer, trying to call her auntie over Skype from a computer without the mic needed for such a task. With the grace that all of us dictator tyrant disciplinarians posses I addressed the issue:

Me [dignified yell]: "Kid! Stop trying to call Auntie Kee! You know that Skype's call feature doesn't work, you're just harassing Kee!"

Kid [whining]: "But I miss my Auntie Kee!"

Me [not backing down]: "So? That doesn't make that Skype work without a mic. She might not even be home."

Kid [mad]: "I want to talk to Auntie Kee!"

Me [annoyance building]: "It doesn't matter. You're still uselessly ringing her up."

Kid [whiny mad]: (repeat prior responses x3)

Me [dawning revelation]: "Wait a minute... Didn't I ground you from the computer? I did ground you from the computer!"

Kid [exasperated]: "You grounded me from my computer. This is Pa's computer."

Me [deadpan]: "Nice try. Off."

Kid [angry]: "You let me talk to my Auntie Kee right now!"

Me [amused]: "Oh?"

Kid: [makes a frustrated and whiny scream]

Me: [laughs at Kid's expense]

Kid [pulling out the big guns]: "If you don't let me talk to Auntie Kee right now I'll call you by your middle name!"

Me [humoring]: "Oh?"

Kid [satisfied malice]: "Yeah! (Uses her own middle name)!"

Me and Auntie Kee from over Skype: [dies laughing]

Eventually she'll figure out that not everyone hates their middle name or share the same one. I think I may just cry that day.

--------after notes---------

Yes, yes I am mean. It's too much fun poking fun at a kid's train of thought and Kid is an abundant resource of cheap chuckles. Kids; a gift that keeps on giving.

Home From the Holidays

My title sounds like one of those horrible Christmas comedies that plague us come out every year doesn't it? This year when the season came along it kidnapped me for good measure. No longer am I in Iowa with my sister, the Microblogologist, but back home with the whole famn damily. The peace and quiet is gone and it's back to the regular chaos that is my world. When can I book another trip again?

No no don't take that as a horrible comment. I really did miss being in action and my bratling. Caring for my sister is quite similar but she's much lower maintenance than a five year old; sweet mercy. Alas, as many of you whelp-wranglers would know it is impossible to get used to silence when you have a kid whose job in life is to make you dread it. Things quickly become just too quiet and surrounding yourself with other sounds doesn't quite cut it. I loved me my Iowa trip something big but I missed my whelp as well. Perhaps Summer will be a promising time to combine the two worlds into one super mix.

Poor Pa, he was stuck at home sick and with kid-wrangling duties at the same time as well. You become aware of how much something was needed as soon as it's gone. He really missed me. Kid's going to readjust to having her main disciplinarian back. Poor poor whelp. Not that she minds, yet. First thing she did when I was spotted was attach herself to my leg in a death grip hug and allowed me to indulge myself in kissies and hugs and cuddles... until she remembered that she had her other Auntie right there whose far more indulgent than I am. With a prompt, "You're squishing me!" and patented Limp-Kid-Squirm she managed to escape. Mom, or GRA as we have taken to calling her learned tha I made every holiday treat that she normally makes. Such as the coveted, high demand, and always gone after a day or two, Kolackies.

Which by the way; I learned the hard way the dough needs to be cold to work with and you need to flour the table really well because this dough is a horrible horrible sticker when room temperature and yet useless when over floured. Me and my sister wanted self gratifying indulgence and seeing as these pastry/cookies are always given out to GRA's work and such we impulsively chose to make a batch ourselves in order to get maximal enjoyment. That and so we wouldn't have to share. Cookies were made as well. Triple chocolate one's, those I cheated and used a premade cookie dough for. Our final holiday goodie of choice were lemon bars. A whole pan between two women lasts a while and in the end though we tried our best, there were three bas left that did not get eaten. What a shame.

I fattened my sibling up so well that come the end of my visit she has some weight to spare. She wasn't the only thing that needed some cushie, My fluff-butts aka, the pet rabbits I have were scrawny as well come the beginning of my trip to Iowa. It was a misunderstanding in their feeding, I thought they were eating more than usual when in all reality they were eating much less. Something looked off with the two and when I pet them, sure enough they were little bags of bone. Oh dear. One tearful housewife freak out later Pa went and fetched a couple bags of pellets and their meal plan was upped considerably*. Believe me when I say this. Had I have not figured this out when I did I would be minus two pets come somewhere during the trip. This was an issue that nearly had me cancel my trip all together**. Luckily Pa is a hero and fed the two about a cup of pellets a piece per day. That's four times more than they would normally need. I checked on them first thing when I got into the house and was relieved to see they gained back all their missing weight. Thank god. I can lower their intake to half a cup now for a bit and then bring them back to a fourth***. Maybe it's because I took my spider plants out of their diet...

Presents were dulled out not long later and kid has left a mess in the living room that I'll look into getting cleaned. Our house is usually a disaster area**** and so if I don't I just know when my housewife instincts for cleanliness overload and I go at that room with a borderline insane intent to see carpeting once more I'll find wrapping paper and toy packaging absorbed into the menagerie of mess for sure. I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be already finding all those fun plastic toys kid got from the folks via my feet as the rules of parenthood does so dictate. GRA got a cellphone, I don't know if that's a good thing or not yet. Time will tell how much I should dread her being able to call me anytime she wishes. Lucky for me she's a cheapskate. My gifts in which I received were as followed: A flask, a card from the folks filled with monies which I'll slowly spend away on my rabbits and bratling, and a remote controlled mini helicopter.

The flask has already been absconded with via my older but not the oldest sibling after she filled it with the rum she gave Pa. He didn't fill his flask yet, but like me he's always wanted one, something I find funny. The card is in a totally not at all stupid place where I'll probably lose it be able to keep track of it. The helicopter has been flown, crashed, and entangled in bratling's hair in what was one of my better piloting moments. I didn't get any pictures of the unwrappings for this year, I'll be able to sumarize how they would have looked in this picture of Pa and GRA that features Pa doing our families' traditional hand gesture*****.
Awww Pa...


-----copying Microblogologist who copies LiteralDan's section------

*I had stopped buying the rabbit pellets for a while because the place I get my hay doesn't have the best prices for it and yet the pet store is out of the way. Something I retrospectively should not have done without supplimenting the rabbits' diet with something else first.

**The folks have a bad record when it comes to taking care of the bun-buns. Often times I come home to a disaster whenever I leave my pets in their care, making me hesitiate because of the newly added complications upping the needed care level. This time they seemed to have gotten the hang of it and things were messy but otherwise intact.

***A fourth a cup of pellets a day per five pounds worth of rabbit is the vetrinarian consensus on how much of the stuff that they really need.

****The house is magical in that witin a few days of me going to town and cleaning it completely it always finds a way to be a mess all over again to the point you can't tell I had ever cleaned it at all. Possible gremlings?

*****No.... it's so not flipping the bird. Nope. It's the one fingered salute. That's totally different. We're not completely horrible when it comes to raising Bratling!
Not helping my case any here.

A Trip Back in Time ep.1

Hello friends, and welcome to the first episode of "A Trip Back in Time"!

Being stranded in Iowa whilst my sister, the Microblogologist, does her lab geek stuff and not having a bratling to occupy my time with makes an Unmarried Housewife a dull girl. You can only clean sooooo much in a day before an apartment finds itself just too clean and you're stuck with no other time-occupying cleaning. Of course usually that leads to cookie making and full course meals being planned and created but what do you think I am? Some kind of 1950's modeled housewife? Yeah I wish.



I'd so go gay for one of those... ;P

Digressing! Anyways I need a little adventure into a busy part of my rather mundane life. And so I'll listen to Mr. Peabody and entertain myself by going back in time and messing with watch how things played out for me. Considering I went AWOL in November, we shall start there. Which event shall I choose? Why only the best, most interesting, noteworthy of things. My best friend giving birth. So come along as we make our way to the super duper, handy dandy time machine! No! Not the Way-Back Machine! Our budget isn't that high.


Get outta here guys, you're cramping my style!

I present to you live, the Time o' Tron.

Yeah we like to live it up sometimes.

We're here! The date is November something-ish, 2008. And we find me in bed sleeping. It's been a late, late night and I went to bed a mere two hours prior. A knock upon the door woke me up from my slumbering and I was told of a phone message that was important. Instinctively I know nobody in their right mind calls me at this ungodly hour of seven a.m. and so it could only be one thing.

My best friend must've popped early.

I listen to the message confirming my suspicions. The poor girl after having one false labor, and then another stopped labor, has finally had a labor that was just too late to cancel. Those kids wanted out and nothing was going to stop them. I chatter away on the phone with not just my best friend but her mother and find out that it won't be until another six hours that I could go over there. Why not call me then? We shall never know...

Exhausted and sleep deprived I tried for a few more hours of sleep, something that I learned all too soon was not going to happen. My mind was too active once again, and everyone in the house just had to be as loud as possible. This included an appearance of none other than bratling who had to scream and whine at the top of her lungs, naturally. This was followed later by me waiting outside for my best friend's grandmother to go and pick me up. Bratling couldn't stand the idea of me leaving the house for anything and was giving me the most sad and pathetic faces and yowls for attention you could ever image from the window. By the time the nice lady came over I had a little girl clinging to me like a barnacle, crying for me to not go. I took one for the team and sacrificed my computer to make brat go back inside so I could go.

After a relatively pleasant ride I came upon a group of friends and family of our girl. Naturally they had to test my sleep deprived prowless by having me identify the guy in front of me. I made my guess and said something clever along the lines of, "Her brother?". I had a feeling I guessed wrong by the blanks stares. Someone corrected me, apparently he was her boyfriend...*
Oops. I did tell them I didn't really sleep. BFF was looking pretty good if I do say so myself. For someone who had a C-section and was drugged up, she was bright and perky. We did our hugs and talked and of course got to go down and see the kids. They were just the cutest things. Four pounds and change a piece, black haired, dark eyes, and I know they'll have a lovely natural tan from being Caucasian-Indian mixed. I told BFF she did such a nice job that she should make me a pair. Ha ha, it got me the stink eye and a weak, "can't laugh after a C-section" laugh.

It was probably afterwards whilst other of the family were visiting one at a time in the Infant-ICU that I noticed for the first time that the two women that earlier I had assumed were aunts, were not really aunts at all. You see, BFF doesn't want kids, and these miracle babies had managed to happen even with two forms of birth control and everything. She had considered abortion but found out soon enough that she just could not do it. So, like the movie "Juno", she went to pick out a family. I bet you know what I'm getting at now. Yes, these two women were who BFF picked out. They were nice, funny, and in general all around good people. My conservative Pa would have a cow, but seeing as I have a oddly large number of gay friends, I was not phased**.

The next set of days would be spent with me visiting daily for hours, up until bratlilng or Gra, whichever one it was, got me sick once more with the disease I'm carrying around with me now. Biohazards! The whole lot of them! By the time I get back from Iowa, the kids may just be living in their new home with their mommies. I should recommend blogging to them. How else will I be able to keep up so well with the mini-whelps? Besides my BFF of course. :)

----copying Microblogologist who copies LiteralDan section-----

*The first meeting with me and BFF's boyfriend involved a bar and me getting plastered. We're not going to admit that too openly. Oh! They're engaged now, so BFF's fiance is a more suitable term for modern reference.

**I could say at this point up to 40% of my friends are either bi or all out gay. My distinct lack of caring one way or another makes me the usual "first to come out to" girl. As such, any conversation that begins with: "I have something important to say to you" usually involves pregnancy or a sexual preference.

Time Machines and The Unmarried Housewife Migration

I'm so terrible putting my blog on the back burner to simmer while I went off to draw myself stupid. Naughty naughty Housewife! Well no there was more to it. I've been off and on sick, my best friend gave birth to two beautiful preemie girls whom are being adopted into a loving home and so I've been in and out of the hospital up until I got ill again, sleep deprivation took its loving toll upon me more than once*, and all in all November was a busy busy month! One of these days I'm going to have to build me up a time machine so you all can see all the amazing things** I did throughout the now gone November. Oh look at that over there! What is it?


Is that what I think it is?

Yes! A crudely made time machine! Future me must have known I would want to write about what happened to me throughout November and sent her Time o' Tron over so that I could. Aww.. and I didn't even get her a birthday card.

Well before I start making posts using my handy dandy... time machine! I have some big neato news.

The Unmarried Housewife Migration has landed me in Iowa with none other than my dear sister, the Microblogologist! Cheers everybody! See she visited during the mysterious and amazing month of November for thanksgiving and I joined her on the trip back to her home. So far so good, I did my housewifely duties and cleaned up a bit and set up my computer to laze about on. She's out doing her water dancing now. Then I shall enjoy my lunch***. We figure each others' company will help restore our sanities that have been dwindling for a while now. Goodness knows I just knew I had to come back and keep my sweet sister company right about when I saw her toting around a laminated picture of a person as her one and only companion. I think she was talking to it and everything.**** Seems I'll have my work cut out for me...



Oi vey.

----copying Microblogologist who copies Literal Dan----

*When I get colds and other respiratory issues I lose my ability to sleep. It causes me to randomly crash and sleep for hours.

**Amazing things differ from person to person. Please, ask your doctor if Amazing Things are right for you.

***I slept up until 5 pm when I got here. I label my meals numerically not by the time they occur. Other people eat lunch or dinner about when I can have "breakfast."

****It was the FlatWeaselMomma project, not my sister really going insane. Or is she? Dun dun duuunnnnn

Treats and Trouble

Halloween was a hit! Kid got her candy and my diet took a few steps back as I valiantly searched through Brat's candy for anything possibly dangerous. Bratling turned the tides on me and then started inspecting the candy too "just to make sure". We fail at this system because eating the candy to make sure it's not deadly or poisonous defeats the purpose of keeping each other safe. She was such a doll. Look at that little princess!


I'm glad this year did so well, last year didn't last two blocks before Kid wanted to go home. Then again you'd not want to keep going with the company we were with. Few days later Bratling took a dump on one of the offending parties coats. Lovely...

Nothing could stop the kid this year. The promise of all the candy you can get was too great and she was careening down the sidewalks as fast as she could get us to go. Pa and I decided soon enough she could go down the driveways by herself and ring the bells so long as we could see the door. We've gone to all these houses before for years and so we know them enough. I especially pick the old folks houses, seeing cute kids make their day.



No driveway was safe from the trampling of little kid feet either. Not even this one which Pa and I wisely hung back from going down and opted for just hanging out at the beginning. Those houses always give mucho candy for the effort.



After Halloween has been a wee ip more touchy. Remember in the last post I mentioned kid being a Biohazard. Well one of the members of our household got sick from Bratling and now has acute frontal lobe pneumonia. Joys. She lived through the night and was up and about this morning saving me the effort of poking her with a stick. Now kid's going in to the doctor just now to find out if she's kicking with anything bad too. That cough just does not want to go away. Pa and I are on the tail end of it now where I'm not so miserable and the cough's a minor nuisance.

It took one heck of a bribe to get kid to agree to go to the Doctor without a fuss. Yet again I'm pleased she's a gamer in training. She gets to play my new game, "Tasty Planet" upon completion of taking one for the health team. Score another for letting kid play video games!

I recommend "Tasty Planet" by the way. It's cute, fun, and challenging. Here's a trailer below. Little wonder kid loves watching me play it so: