Are you the Bitch in the House?

Are you a bitch? No? Don’t think so? I bet some would disagree with you. You see, I don’t think I am a bitch. I think I am quite nice, but it seems I have gotten quite the bad rap. And you know what? I am sick of it. And for those of you shaking your heads in disagreement, no you’re not a bitch, you are loved, you are a good mother and kind and you love animals so much that you have three rescues (and one pure bred just to shake things up), guess what?

I AM A BITCH.

I discovered last week that I am surrounded by people who have suggested that all I do is nag and complain. I spout things like “pick your clothes up off the floor… washing your hair only counts if you use shampoo… that is a sink not a dishwasher,” and so on. All. The. Time.

No one likes this. If you are thinking stop, just make like Elsa and let it go. Well sister, I am one step ahead of you. I stopped. Full shampoo bottles line the kids’ tub and wet towels lay molding on their floor.

I told a friend I didn’t want to be the wife who was always saying, “please put toilet paper on the roll when you are done, and if a light bulb is out please change it,” but I also can’t be the only person in a family of five to do it.

She said that I should see what happened if I ignored it and didn’t nag. I told her I had already conducted the grand “ignore it,” experiment.

“What happened,” she asked.

“We wiped our asses with paper towels in the dark.”

So yes, I am the meanie who makes kids eat spinach, and put dishes in the dishwasher, set the table and feed the animals. And I do it to spare the entire generation of millennials from having to write snarky blog posts about the “post-millenials,” who look in the dishwasher for eggs and stare at the sink in disbelief once they leave home while wondering why the sink is broken and the dishes aren’t magically being transported to the neat machine next to it to get clean. Yes, millenials, you are welcome.

But there are no thanks. There are scowls and disdainful remarks like, “why do you hate me so much”. But no one says, “thank you for preventing me from moving out one day and having moldy towels and cockroaches in my college dorm.”

So I am done with that. They can walk around with smelly heads and sleep next to stinky towels, but I cannot, I repeat I cannot ignore the SUMMER READING LIST.

And thank you. I mean it. I really want to thank from the bottom of my itsy, bitsy, ice cold heart, whoever put the word SUGGESTED on my children’s summer reading list. Because, guess what? Guess who is the asshole now? That’s right, me!

Last year, I could say that was all fine and good, live in filth, but you must read. Now, when I say that, the kids say “it’s suggested reading.” WTF? What is this? Why would school say it’s suggested when what they mean is, one more thing for mom to enforce?

Today, when I told my child I was taking pool time away until she reads she said, “I cannot finish five books.”

I gave my standard line. “Fine, but you will write a letter to your third grade teacher explaining exactly why you chose not to do your summer reading.”

This is what I got.

Dear Miss XXX

I did not finish my reading because it was a suggestion. Google says a suggestion means “an idea or plan put forward for consideration.” I have considered reading five books but think two is a better idea. I am excited for third grade.

Love,

L

I can’t win. Cannot win. So I am suggesting to my children that if they would like to live in homes with roofs, hot water and free of roaches, that they need to think of me as their ally in achieving these goals.

However, should they choose to discard my suggestions, they are free to find jobs now, get to the store, buy their sugary summer cereal, pay for their pool memberships, score rides there, and make sure to get rides to the sports shop to buy their three million dollars worth of Under Armour Sports crap. I will be at home, relaxing with my summer reading, enjoying the life we have as the result of people, namely their parents, having done things they didn’t want to do approximately 87% of the time.

Do you feel like all you do is nag?

Helen is a stay at home mom to three kids, three cats and two dogs. When she isn’t chasing one of said creatures through the woods she enjoys blogging at Bubble Gum Chic. She sees humor in the chaos of a life well lived. She also sees the therapeutic value of shoe shopping. You can also find her on Twitter.