I’m hosting the next OCD meeting at my place ……

Well, how else am I going to get this place clean? It’s like one step forward and two hundred and fifty three sprints back…. It’s a long unforgivable road and I’m actually beginning to wonder ‘what’s in it for me’? There’s not one person, big or small, in this house that notices what it is I do. Even my 15 year old asked me the other day “What do you do all day long?”  I wish I was brave enough to go on strike so they can realise that I don’t sit on the couch all day watching movies and drinking vodka…

Being labelled as a Superwoman I’m beginning to question where my big, fat, superhero pay cheque is at? Did it get lost in the system or did Superhero Headquarters send it to the wrong address? Maybe Santa Claus intercepted it and put it towards the kids Christmas presents? I know, I know, I can hear all the little voices saying that my payment is “Love”! Love… Love… Love… Yip-di-fucking-do! So how come Dad gets love and a pay cheque and one of those cute little shirts you see kids wearing that says “My Daddy is my Superhero”! He also get the bonus of lunch breaks, full night sleeps and sick days when the Man Flu hits town! And then of course there are the toilet breaks he gets too! I can’t even remember the last time I went to the toilet without someone coming in to tell me that they have a green booger, their eye is itchy or that their brother looked at them funny. Before my brain has a chance to catch up my mouth has already yelled “Can’t I just shit in peace?” and they quietly retreat back out the door probably thinking that their Mum really needs to go back to school and learn how to be a lady! But really?! Unless you are broken or bleeding or it’s a life threatening attack from a pack of Tassie Devils then please take your enclosed hand, remove it from the door handle and back away slowly, one step at a time! Sometimes I’d like to be Dad. He’s the Superhero of the family with a pay cheque. Even more importantly he gets to go to the toilet for half an hour at a time and emerges looking like a new man! Oh well, Superwoman doesn’t need to use the toilet – who can get those tights and knickers off anyway…

So let’s go on a journey of what Groundhog Day means when to a Superwoman – let’s be upbeat here and start with the house is clean…. Ok, so the house is clean, kids come home, house is messy, kids go to bed, house is cleaned, kids wake up, house is messy, kids go to school, house gets cleaned, kids come home, house gets messy and so Vodka was born!

Isn’t it typical of a Superhero standing in front of a crowd with their arms on their hips in a powerful stance? They address the crowd with determination and clarity speaking words of truth and fill the crowd with encouragement. The crowd then break into applause filled with pride and comprehension! They are chatting amongst themselves in the crowd “Wow, she’s so amazing!”, “She’s right you know!” “Yes! This isn’t the way it should be!” And so we have been wronged! This is my ‘job’ … So I say pay me or sack me! I am not having a go at our wonderful, hardworking husbands, which is definitely how I would describe mine but I work bloody hard, I am rarely ‘off duty’, I have the biggest and most important job in the world, I carried them, I gave birth to them, I am investing all my time to make sure that they turn into, at the very least, OK human beings. I am doing a pretty reasonable job, the best I can. C’mon Superwomen aren’t we tired of working for LOVE! Wouldn’t love plus a few well earned superhero dollars make our groundhog days more satisfying … Oh well back to the drawing room – that’s where I left my Vodka…..


One Love,

DRK xxx

5 thoughts on “I’m hosting the next OCD meeting at my place ……

  1. Jen and Tonic says:

    “I am doing a pretty reasonable job, the best I can.” That’s all any of us can do! I think being a stay at home mom is the hardest job there is. I don’t know how women do it, and stay sane. That alone is a super power.


  2. Aussa Lorens says:

    I honestly don’t know how you do it, and I hope you have some outlets (this blog maybe?) that help you vent and get free of some of the stress. My Mom was a SAHM and I (shamefully) did not appreciate all she did until after I had left the house. Now I am pretty sure I would KILL to go back to that resort style living. You have a tough and often thankless job but its such an important one!


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