The Fretful Mother's Blog

The most common complaint you’ll hear from a woman about toilet seats is that men do not return them to their proper horizontal position. I can definitely see their point there; however, there are sometimes more pressing issues with the toilet seat. I have encountered two of them today. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m leaving for DC tomorrow morning and have yet to begin packing. I know in my head what I want to pack, but I can’t bring myself to actually do it. I think it forces me to actually acknowledge that I’m going on an airplane. And airplanes are bad news for me. Read the rest of this entry »

I read somewhere that electrical currents seem louder to females, so I guess this confirms my status as a woman (though some may beg to differ). That incessant sound is all I hear. The TV and satellite receiver are the worst. Usually I unplug something if it really bothers me, but the cords for the TV and receiver are behind an armoire. As I am not a man (as previously noted), I cannot easily move the furniture and muzzle the sound. Read the rest of this entry »

Once again I became too relaxed. I decided to treat myself to a manicure/pedicure today. I brought my book and settled in to the massage chair while I soaked my feet in the super-hot water I so love. It was busy at the nail salon so I had extra time to myself before someone attended to me. After about 15 minutes, I smelled something burning. Read the rest of this entry »

I hated bedtime as a child. I would avoid it as long as I could. I was never tired at 8:30. Of course, now I would love it if I could go to bed at 8:30. I’d say “so long, suckas!” to the kids and head off to dream land. It would be bliss. Read the rest of this entry »

I was summoned to court today after receiving two tickets less than 24 hours apart at the end of January. The second ticket was for not producing a valid insurance card. The officer explained that I simply needed to appear in court and show my card. Upon arriving at court, I began to have my doubts. Read the rest of this entry »

The fear of itching is called Acarophobia, and I think I developed it yesterday. I could not stop scratching my right hand. No matter how hard I did it, it kept on itching. I scratched it so hard that it started bleeding. It now looks like I’ve been attacked by a mountain lion (or a cheetah). Read the rest of this entry »

Just transpose two letters and it makes “gaols” (the Brits’ term for jails). And that’s exactly what goals are: things that hold you back. You might think they are good for accomplishing stuff, but it turns out they are just the opposite. Read the rest of this entry »

Ooh la la, you may say, but I say pooh la la. The French are evil, evil people. I’ve known this for quite some time, but was reminded of it again today when I visited a French bakery. I thought I could contain myself to an omelette, but the case of pastries and other baked goods sat there beckoning to me. Read the rest of this entry »

Laundry is a never-ending chore, unless you are a nudist. As soon as you wash, dry and fold all the clothes from the hamper, you realize you are just wearing more clothes that will need to be cleaned. The job is never complete. As part of this realization, I’ve taken to limiting my laundry tasks to once a week or whenever the children run out of socks. Read the rest of this entry »