There are times in my life where I really believe things happen to me simply so I will get off my duff and post about them. It’s as if the “blogging gods” look up from their golden computers and say,

“Hey! That ‘B-Love’ girl hasn’t posted in a while. What’s her problem!? Writers block? I guess she needs us to help our out. We’ll give her something to write about and make her so afraid of it happening again that she’ll continue to post on a regular basis to avoid our wrath. Muahahahaha” <- a giant strike of lightening flashes behind them and they all rub their hands together all evil-like…

And then the lightening hits their servers and they all cry and put their nerdy glasses and pocket protectors back on and try to remedy the problem.

Oh- but not before cursing me, of course.

So- yesterday that’s exactly what happened. It has been a while since I’ve posted- which of course translates into some sort of calamity. I should have known some sort of awful moment was lurking around the corner for me! I can’t go a week or more without posting and not have something happen to share.

We went to visit Will’s family for father’s day yesterday. We decided to have an early lunch, so we hopped in the car and headed to the restaurant. Pat and I sat in the backseat, while Will and his dad sat up front. As we pulled into the restaurant Will’s dad thought it would be nice to get the car door for me. He opened the door- and then it happened.

However, before we discuss “it,” I should explain something so the incident is clearer. I’m pretty low maintenance on the weekends. I try to do as little as possible to get myself ready. I’ve also become a big cotton skirt and dress wearer during the summer. They’re so comfortable and breathable and easy to throw on and look decent in… they’re amazing. Oh- and they’re even better when you’re feeling gigantic because they hide your fat and somehow make you feel a little better about yourself.

So- that being said, I was wearing a flowy black cotton skirt.

As Will’s dad opened the door a giant wind, what I have now begun to call, The Great Wind came upon us all. I swear it was so windy I saw a Chihuahua fly right past me. The wind angrily howled all around us- and before I knew it, the wind had somehow crawled underneath my skirt and raised it all the way up against my back- thereby exposing my entire lower body- black underwear and slightly hail dented legs for the whole world to see-

Oh and right (and I mean RIGHT) in front of my father in law!

Yes- go ahead and cringe. You can even scream if you want to, I know I wanted to.

Oh- and to make matters way, way worse- not only has Will’s dad seen downstairs- he’s also seen upstairs too. You may recall this post in which he saw me in my leopard print bra?

Yeah- I pretty much wanted to bawl my eyes out of embarrassment, and gouge his mind’s eye out of its socket.

I’m sure you understand.

So I grabbed my skirt and ran straight to the bathroom and tried to gain my composure. I was so so so mortified!

Mortified.

So what do I do? I run and tell someone what happened, you know, because that’s the totally normal thing to do- have something awful happen to you that you want to forget but run and text someone the whole story. Brilliant.

So, I texted P.

I kept thinking to myself, “Maybe he didn’t see?” Maybe I blinded him with my ghastly white legs so he wasn’t able to see a thing! I knew I hadn’t been tanning for a reason. I just kept thinking of ways that maybe I was overreacting and it wasn’t that bad.

But it was that bad.

I realized I couldn’t stay in the bathroom the rest of the day and that eventually I would have to come out and expose myself to the world. (<- ha ha, I’m pretty sure I had done enough exposing for one day. What I mean to say is that I needed to get out of the bathroom already and try to enjoy a meal with my in-laws.<- ha ha, that's funny. Enjoy a meal with my in-lawsIsn’t that sort of like an oxymoron?)

So- I came out of the bathroom and sat down at our booth. I always sit across from Pat when we eat- always. Always but for some reason yesterday of all days Pat took the inside and Will’s dad took the outside. Will was already comfortably sitting in his spot so I couldn’t really make a big deal about the whole seating arrangements. So- instead I gracefully sat down, directly in front of my FIL, and placed the menu right in front of my face.

Will’s dad made jokes like normal (um- NOT about what had happened, of course) and basically acted like nothing had happened which sort of made me feel better. I really wanted to believe he hadn’t seen my giant derriere flapping in the wind, so him just acting normal helped me to pretend that he didn’t.

Even though let’s face it- he so did.

Let’s just say yesterday’s lunch felt like the longest day of my life.

And let’s also say that a valuable lesson had been learned today-

No, it’s not that you should never wear skirts.

It’s not that you shouldn’t let your father-in-law open the door for you either.

It’s not even that you should have Casper white legs.

It’s that the wind is one sick, perverted, ancient old man that seriously needs to be contained.

1. The weekend wasn’t as bad as anticipated.

2. Pictures are posted and I think they turned out pretty good. I think Will needs to wear a tux everyday.

3. I never became more aware of the fact that Will and I truly and seriously treat our dogs like real life children more than I did this weekend. I listened to all our family members with kids and the little common trigger phrases they said and thought to myself, “Wow… I say that too. To my dogs. I think Will and I need help.”

4. I actually thought about kids this weekend (as in maybe having them one day down the road) and sort of freaked out but sort of did not. Long story short- I saw a lot of couples this weekend with small kids that seemed miserable (not with their children, but with their spouse) and it freaked me out. At the same time I thought about how I also know a lot of people that seem even happier with their spouse. I guess some of that could have been because of the circumstance (um I’m pretty sure traveling and having to stay up late for a family dinner can make EVERYONE grumpy). What do you think?

5. I honestly wore more makeup than the bride this weekend and felt a little ridiculous. She’s very simple and I so should have remembered that. Eh- I don’t get to dress up much so I figured I might as well do it right.

6. The AC in our truck went out. Thankfully it went out on the way home and not on the way there. I’m certain Will and I would have ended up in marital counseling had it gone out before. Have I mentioned I turn into a raging psychopath when I get hot? Probably not.

7. I felt really old Sunday when I went to bed at around 8:30.

8. I like Will’s family- despite what I say on my website sometimes. I’m pretty lucky to have his family in my life. I could definitely have worse- and realized that this weekend.

9. I didn’t even get to dance with Will at the reception. :( Do you know the last time we danced was back in 2002 when we met in ballroom dancing class!? I thought I was getting a dancer, but um- notsomuch. The 3 or 4 times they had a slow song Will was helping to get the bride’s overnight bag into Dr. Vet’s car, or tagging the car, or something else. Will and I were going to dance to the last slow song they played, but Dr. Vet and Mrs. Dr. Vet snatched us up and we danced with them instead. Oh well. Hopefully someone else will get married soon?

10. I’m beyond behind on reading and commenting on your blogs. Therefore I’m turning off comments today until I catch up. Sorry I’m a sucky blog friend but I promise to catch up soon. 

You don’t have to tell me.

I’ve been gone a while.

Have you guys gotten so behind in something to the point where you simply start avoiding it at all costs?

Take laundry.

It literally sits on my couch unfolded for days on end and the longer it sits the more I want to forget about it because I realize how awful it is to let it sit there. You’re a freaking adult darn it! Clean up your crap!

Heh- I’m a freaking adult darn it- therefore I can do what I want and let the laundry sit.

That’s what I think anyway.

So- the computer sort of became like the laundry on the couch. I believe I’ve eluded to that before- I’m a sucker for daylight savings time and the longer the days get the more I seem to want to stay away from the computer.

I hadn’t checked my email in almost two weeks! Craziness I know.

So the truth is that there’s a whole lot going on. Dr. Vet is tying the knot this weekend so things have been very busy.

I must admit, I’m just ready for them to be married already! Geez-a-lou let’s get this weekend started and over.

So this weekend will be devoted to an array of wedding festivities. P told me to bring a “bottle of water” to keep myself loose and carefree hydrated. At first I thought she was crazy, but now I simply think she’s on to something.

There’s definitely a lot to talk about in the coming days and I promise not to suck at posting next week and I promise to post pictures.

Because I know how much you guys love looking at pictures of random strangers, right!?

Have a lovely weekend and let’s plan to catch up soon (I say that for my own benefit- not yours). 

It’s Thursday night and I still have nothing to talk about.

It’s so bad in fact that I’ve contemplated opening the phone book to a random page and calling some random person with an awful cliche’ prank joke.

Yeah… it’s been that uneventful.

Sadly, Will won’t let me. He says it’s totally immature to do something like that. 

What does he know, right? He never has any fun (ha ha).

Finally Friday. I’m sure more interesting posts are in my future. After all, the weekend has arrived!

I wish I could tell you I’ve been busy this week baking homemade brownies and learning how to cross stitch and therefore have been unable to post - but the truth is that I haven’t been doing any of those things.

But for fun can I just just tell you that’s what I’ve been doing? That way we’re both happy and feel good?

Lets!

Okay- so the reason why I haven’t posted in the last few days is because I’ve been very busy making brownies from scratch as well as cross stitching something very important.

I have no idea what one cross stitches, therefore I am unable to disclose what this important item is.

But seriously- I’m cross stitching.

I’m not lying.

In fact- I’m stitching right now, while I type.

Okay… I may be lying.

I will tell you I’m sitting here eating plain chocolate chips.

That, my friend, is no lie- though I wish it were.

Like the rest of you I’m thrilled tomorrow marks the end of another work week. To celebrate the weekend Will and I are going to go to eat a cheap dinner at the mall food court followed by a movie! You pretty much can’t beat cheap fatty fast food followed by 3 hours of sitting sedentary in a germy movie theatre seat, right?

Sigh…

I swear- if I didn’t love to eat as much as I do I would look like Jillian Michaels.

Ha- I guess we all would.

The first step to looking like Jillian would probably be rolling up this stupid chocolate chip bag and putting it in the cabinet.

Better yet- putting it in the trash.

But we wouldn’t want to waste them right?

We’ll go ahead and put them in the cabinet.

As you can see from my ramblings, you haven’t missed too much in my life. This week is one I kind of want to forget, so I’m really ready to begin the weekend and my date night with Will.

Ha- okay so Will just came out of our bathroom and saw me sitting on our bed with my computer and a bag of chocolate chips and just looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Okay… so you’re eating a bag of chocolate chips?”

I told him no. Do you think he believes me?

Um, my bet says no.

Alright- enough rambling for today. Happy Friday!

So Will has a pair of pants he uses to do stuff around the house in. I call them “work pants.”

Today we discovered they had a small hole in the crotch- and Will asked me to “fix them.”

Fix them.

As if I ran around the house in a big fluffy skirt and pearls and had breakfast prepared at 6:00 on the dot each morning. Perfectly prepared eggs over easy- never too runny.

Sigh.

The truth is that I’m no Donna Reed.

Times are tough these days in America and I really thought it would be a good idea to help stretch these work pants- so I went to Walmart today in hopes of finding a sewing kit.

Only Walmart- the place that has “everything-” did not have a sewing kit.

So I opted for a needle and thread and a prayer that all would work out.

But we’ll get to that part soon.

So I began aimlessly threading my needle, wandering in and out of the fabric.

Um- it pretty much looked like a three year old hacked away at it. Remember those yarn paper weaving arts and crafts things you used to make?

It looked like that.

You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?

Trust me. That means it was bad.

It was at that moment- when I realized I sucked and was cutting the yarn and hopelessly pulling it out- that it hit me.

I think as a whole we’re not nearly as domestic and self sufficent as we used to be.

I mean think about it- I freaking slapped pudding into a pre-made pie crust and topped it with cool whip and called it a pie.

AND

AND

I even complained about not being able to use INSTANT pudding.

Wow. How said is that!?

Sure- it technically is a “pie"- but seriously? That’s no pie.

I can barely sew a button. I will if I’m in a pinch, but the truth is that I have like 3 items of clothing that I plan on taking to a seamstress simply to sew.on.a.freaking.button! Seriously- I suck.

Do you guys realize that basic sewing used to be a household MUST like a decade ago? It’s so crazy to me to think how much things have changed over the years. It seems like are a lot of these sort of things in which were very common just a couple decades ago but are not as widely practice these days. Um- like making our husbands breakfast every morning, or stitching a dime size hole for crying out loud!

Yes- I realize it’s because we’re “out there” in the world, making a difference, changing the world, being amazing career womans AND wives and mothers. I get it.

I mean- sure I realize I suck for not being able to sew my husband’s pants, but the truth is that I’m in good company. I’d say there’s quite a few of us out there that don’t “make” our pies.

We hide dirty dishes in our oven when unexpected company comes because (gasp) there are times in which our house isn’t spotless.

We’re no Donna Reeds.

I’ll admit, I felt a little discouraged tonight when I couldn’t simply fix a tiny hole in Will’s pants. I should be able to do that! I should be capable of weaving a piece of freaking thread neatly in and out of a piece of thin cloth and taking care of my family! How hard can this possibly be!? Apparently pretty tough.

So I’m sitting here throwing myself a pity party because I’m not Donna Reed.

And I know you guys may think less of me-

but I want to be a Donna Reed.

There. I said it.

I want to wear high heels and make breakfast for Will and never sweat when I’m cleaning the oven. I want to be able to freaking sew.a.hole. for crying out loud!

more pity partying

So here’s what I’m thinking.

There are definitely things I can work on to improve my household. Small things.

The big things- you know- the seriously HUGE crisis things like sewing a pair of pants (ha ha)- I figure I’ll handle one case at a time.

...

Actually.

Guys-

maybe I am becoming a little bit of Donna Reed.

I mean- it’s 2009.

I can’t sew my husband’s pants.

I admit it.

However I know exactly where to go to get it fixed the right way. The first time.

I call that being smart. And resourceful.

Not only that- but I mean, while someone else is doing what they’re good at, I can work on doing something marvelous!

Like baking a real pie,

or- you know, painting my nails…

We’re living in a different time and Donna Reed is evolving. I guess it’s not about living our life like they did in the 50s. It’s about living smart in Donna Reed fashion, but also enjoying the modern technologies time has afforded us and combining the two into greatness!

So, although I can’t sew my poor husband’s pants, I can make a mean pie. And wear high heels. And paint my nails. And dial the pizza guy.

Genius.

xo,

The New Donna Reed

Will swears that cook and serve pudding is far superior than instant.

I totally disagree. The film situation with cook and serve alone is enough to deter me from standing over a stove stirring constantly for 12 minutes waiting for the freaking crap to boil.

Oh wait.

Standing over a stove stirring constantly for 12 minutes waiting for the freaking crap to boil is enough to deter me from cook and serve pudding.

Will has been begging for me to make some cook and serve pudding for a couple weeks now.

This in and of itself is alarming to me. Who begs their wife to make them cook and serve pudding?

No really. Who does that? An old family recipe layer cake made from scratch with homemade frosting I can understand. Cook and serve pudding? Really?

Anyway, because I try to be a good wife I made Will cook and serve pudding tonight- and not only that, but I put it in a crust.

Therefore can call it a “pie.”

Could I stretch and say I made a pie?

Um- probably not… All I did was stir (for a million minutes- watching that stupid freaking pudding threaten to burn the sides of the pan), and pour, and top with cool whip. That means I made it right? Ha, of course it does.

Between you and me? I could have made instant pudding and I doubt Will would have been able to tell the difference, although he swears up and down that he could. Who knows…

So I “made” our pie around 8:00 tonight and really want to have some. Only it takes 3 hours to set- which would put it at 11:00. Granted, it’s only a few minutes -and who knows? By the time I finish this post it very well could be 11- but it seems very random to me to eat dessert at 11.

Although- let’s face it- time means nothing to me when it comes to desserts. That’s crazy. It’s like saying vegetables are bad for you. Or hypercolor shirts are appropriate work attire. Um actually? I’m pretty sure hypercolor shirts are inappropriate at all times.Do they even make hypercolor anymore?

Sorry- getting distracted. Back to pie.

So I’m leaning towards eating a piece of pie and going straight to bed.

Because I’ve always heard that’s a GREAT idea (ha ha).

You know, for someone that “doesn’t think cook and serve pudding is all that great” I sure am staying up late to scarf it down, aren’t I?

Ooh- and you know what else?

After living in our house for only a year (actually- still less than a year) we finally decided to clean out our whirlpool jets and are going to try out the tub for the first time!

Oh- please be assured I’ve cleaned the tub many times before that- I just never ran the whirlpool and got the previous owner’s yuckys cleaned out.

Anyway- I think we’re going to eat pie and try out the whirlpool.

hmm- or try out the whirlpool and eat pie.

Ooh- OR have pie and then try out the whirlpool and then have pie again.

Okay just kidding. You have to have SOME limits right?

As you can see, my Saturday night has been out of control. But you guys know me well enough by now to know that’s the norm.

Hey guess what? It’s almost 11. I made it! I really made it! (ha ha. Wow. This is really sad).

Yay for cook and serve pie (I guess).

Have a good evening- and happy mother’s day to all my lovely blog friend mommies, and to my lovely mom as well.

<3

Me: It’s so humid today and I’m at the gym and it’s so busy and I’m sweating uncontrollably! I’m pouring! I’m so embarrassed.

P: Brittny, do you want to make me angry? 1. You went to the gym. 2. It’s humid which gives the effect of a sauna. So it’s like you worked out double. So jealous!

Forgive me friends for I have sinned. It has been several weeks since my last confession.

Because it’s been a while, I will plunge deep into my heart and provide you with quality, meaningful confessions.

Like this one:

1. My husband parks my car in the garage every.single.day.

No seriously- I swear.

I know.

Pathetic.

So here’s the whole back story.

When I was 16 I got a car and- like all 16 year olds- was very eager to drive and be TOTALLY responsible with it.

So the thing with my car was that it was really long and it barely fit in the garage. In fact, there were many times in which the garage door lightly smudged the back of my car. Not only that, but we had a two car garage growing up so it was a really tight squeeze fitting the car next to the big purple minivan. So- long story (somewhat) short- my parents parked the car in the garage for me. Yes, I was TOTALLY responsibile- but why risk me doing something stupid, right?

Right.

So- one night I was being TOTALLY responsible and coming home late. Instead of calling my parents and telling them that not only was I late, but I also needed the car put in the garage, I opted to be the “good” and helpful daughter and park the car myself.

As I pulled the car in the rear right side of my car let out a painful cry of torture-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH

I couldn’t stop! I kept driving, thinking it would be better.

It was worse.

Definitely worse.

I totally dented in the side big time. Plus the paint was destroyed.

Good job kid.

I know.

Anyway- ever since that I’ve been very leery of parking in tight spaces. Mostly because I suck. Mostly also because I have this reoccurring nightmare of doing something terribly stupid again.

So anyway, since we have the truck now it goes in the big part of the garage and we park my car in the third garage door, which is a tight squeeze (ahem- for me- not for anyone else, I’m sure).

Will knows this awful and totally embarrassing garage story, and although it’s been 10 freaking years, he still doesn’t trust me with “baby #2” (did you guys know that’s what he calls his car? I know- he’s crazy).

So there you go- I can’t park my own car in my garage. How’s that for a confession?

2. When it’s just me and Will eating at home I cover my baking dish in foil so I don’t have to wash the dish and instead just throw away the dirty foil.

Because I’m just that lazy. No other reason.

3.  Sometimes I pretend to be annoyed whenever I scoop ice cream (cookies and creme) for me and Will because “I’d rather he do it,” but the truth is that is that I totally love doing it because I always (always, always) give myself the giant pieces of cookies.

ha ha. I feel like I need to go to crunches after confessing that…

Anything you need to confess to lighten your load? 

"I’m 26 years old and I still loathe buying tampons. You’d think that was something I would have grown out of- but, no.

I wonder why, too? I mean- I realize it’s no big deal. I must admit, though, I really love when you go for me.”

“Yeah- but I don’t.”

“I know- but like I said, I hate it. When you go people know you’re just being a wonderful husband. They know they’re not for you. When I go, however, it is very, very clear that those super duper sized tampons are for me. Ha- or it could also be the gallon of ice cream I buy with them. That probably gives it away too. I mean- it’s this whole thing! Do you get a cart for the tampons, or do you tromp around the whole Wal-mart holding them discretely by your side while you casually walk to the entire other side of the store for the ice cream? Do you-”

(cutting me off)

“Brittny- lately it seems like anytime you talk about things or tell me stories it’s like you’re blogging.”

“Nooo. You’re crazy. I just like to drone on about things.”

And then I hopped out of the truck and began my tampon/cookie dough mission (thinking all the while about telling you guys about standing in front of the cookie dough section holding a jumbo sized box of tampons).

Um- between you and me? After assessing the most recent stories I’ve told Will this week? Yeah, he’s right. I totally talk in blog.