Millie writes:
If you use an anti-static sheet in the dryer, save it when you remove the clothes and use it to clean out the lint trap from that load. The fuzz will stick much better to the sheet than to your hand.
If you crumple and crumple and crumple and CRUMPLE a sheet from a brown paper bag, it will look enough like soft, thick suede that you can use it to craft convincing “leather” covered wagon tops, buckskins, and teepees for your little Pilgrims and Indians to play with this Thanksgiving. It also makes good book covers.
Butter your hands before you shape popcorn balls or Rice Krispies treats. The goo will be much more manageable.
Teach your toddler to put on his coat the way Jack's preschool teacher taught him: spread it open on the floor in front of him with the outside of the coat touching the floor and the collar-end pointing towards the child. The kid crosses his arms, slips his hands down into the opposite coat sleeves and raises them straight into the air while straightening out his arms, thereby flipping the coat up, over his head and down into place. Presto!
Remove tarnish from your silver the easy way: line a baking dish (or the sink) with aluminum foil and pour in boiling-hot water. Add 2 teaspoons each of salt and baking soda for each half-gallon or so of water. Completely submerge the tarnished silver so that it's touching the foil and let it soak until the tarnish is gone; rinse and polish with a soft cloth. (The tarnish “jumps” from the silver to the foil, leaving a dusty precipitate. SCIENCE!)
Use a man's discarded dress shirt as a child's arts-and-crafts apron; just button it on the kid backwards. It's long enough to keep paint off of most of their clothing and the sleeves can be rolled up or down (or cut off) as needed.
There are 3 good ways to get wax off your candlesticks. Put metal holders in the freezer for a couple of hours; the wax will become brittle and you can chip it off with your fingernails. Put glass or crystal holders in the microwave for a few seconds until the wax melts and you can wipe it off. Put any kind of holder in very hot water for a few minutes until the wax softens enough for you to peel it off; stand the holder upside-down with the base out of the water if the bottom is covered with felt.
Even if your husband hates everything mammalian so you can't have a kitten no matter how much you beg, kitty litter is still good to have on hand. The plain ol' clay variety soaks up oil spills in the driveway and garage, can be used to “salt” frozen steps and sidewalks, and can be pressed into service as drainage in the bottom of a planter in a pinch (if you put a bit of screen over the hole in the bottom of the pot). Keep a big bag of it in the trunk of your car for a bit of added weight when the roads are icy, if you have rear-wheel drive. (And who knows – someday your husband might change his mind about the kitten, and then you have to be ready to jump before he changes it back!)
Friday, November 12, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
On Beauty
Millie writes:
Like anyone who was ever a little girl, I want to be beautiful.
My mom (who always tried to be kind when my dad wasn't looking) once comforted me when I was a child by telling me that I was one of those people who don't look right in photographs – that I didn't look the same if I wasn't moving. My first boyfriend told my best friend while we were dating, “I love her body, but I can't stand her face.” (Can you believe my friend didn't pass that little tidbit on until after I broke up with the boyfriend?)
If having non-standard features wasn't enough, I'm also a fat woman. (It makes Lance flinch when I say that, like he's watching me stab myself, but to me “fat” is just an adjective. “Zaftig” and “fluffy” and “big” mean “fat.” Why not just say it?) To most people, being fat is the very worst fate they can imagine. Public ridicule of fat people is still okay; I'm embarrassed to recall that once I got into an argument with a bunch of Craigslist trolls about whether or not a fat woman (who might, after all, be their favorite teacher or their mother or their boss) could conceivably have any value to society. The unanimous consensus was that if they didn't want to bang her, she might as well be dead. So much for society.
(By the way, my cholesterol is probably lower than yours and my arthritis is inherited from my 98-pound mother.)
I wasn't fat until I hit my 20s. I was raised in the Projects and went to ghetto schools, and since I developed early I got called fat so often that I absorbed that belief with my multiplication tables. When I did get fat it felt pretty natural, to tell you the truth. What was the big deal?
Anyway, never having added “beauty” to my mental resume, I concentrated on other things. I am smart, and funny, and extremely nurturing (which doesn't always go with “smart” and “funny”). I'm bouncy and enthusiastic and organized and skilled in a wide range of areas. These things have given me an air of confidence that tends to confound people who can't believe I'm putting myself out there. I mean, why would an ugly fat woman WANT to shop for negligees, have a baby, swim laps, speak in public or dance? It confuses people that I'm not in a corner covered in shame.
The foregoing is not a cry for sympathy. It's a statement of fact, as if you were writing, “My eyes are brown” or “my hair is short” or “I am tone-deaf.” Most of the time I don't even think about it, because goofy-looking and overweight are not things that matter much to me.
They do matter sometimes, though. I love clothes, and like most other women I long for fluffy red cashmere sweaters in the fall and gauzy white peasant blouses in the summer. I get polyester double-knit tunics in colors from the planet Krypton no matter what the season, because designers don't make beautiful clothes in my size. Anything over size 12 apparently falls into the “slipcover” category. It matters, too, when I go somewhere in my official capacity as Someone's Mother or Someone's Wife. I would really love to be beautiful then. My people love me as I am, but I'm always so sorry to embarrass them by not being a Cosmo Woman.
There are a few things I like about myself. I love my eyes. I like my boobs (even though they're a lot lower down than they used to be). I think my hair is a pretty color and I am excited about the silver streaks that are coming into it. I put on makeup every day of my life – foundation, eyeliner, shadow, mascara, blusher, lipstick, gloss) because that's what my mother did so that's how women DO. I like being clean and well-groomed; beyond that I just don't usually think about it very much. I think about things like writing and gardening and chickens and my family and sex.
Lance thinks I'm beautiful. I don't understand why, but he really, sincerely thinks so. Partly I think it's because when he looks at me he sees the 19-year-old with waist-length gold hair who could wear a 2-piece swimsuit. Partly I think it's because we're both extremely sensual and he sees me through the eyes of how I make him feel and how I express the way I feel.
Sometimes, though . . . sometimes I catch sight of myself in a mirror or a window and I can see it. Sometimes I'll be wearing a dress that makes me look – just for a moment - curvy and delicious instead of like the Michelin Tire Man. Sometimes I'll catch a glimpse of myself laughing and see how someone who eats life by the handfuls could be more attractive than someone who is forever reining themselves in. Sometimes I'll walk into a room and watch my husband's eyes narrow and his lips turn up at the corners when he sees me.
Sometimes, I'm beautiful. It could be that we all are.
Like anyone who was ever a little girl, I want to be beautiful.
My mom (who always tried to be kind when my dad wasn't looking) once comforted me when I was a child by telling me that I was one of those people who don't look right in photographs – that I didn't look the same if I wasn't moving. My first boyfriend told my best friend while we were dating, “I love her body, but I can't stand her face.” (Can you believe my friend didn't pass that little tidbit on until after I broke up with the boyfriend?)
If having non-standard features wasn't enough, I'm also a fat woman. (It makes Lance flinch when I say that, like he's watching me stab myself, but to me “fat” is just an adjective. “Zaftig” and “fluffy” and “big” mean “fat.” Why not just say it?) To most people, being fat is the very worst fate they can imagine. Public ridicule of fat people is still okay; I'm embarrassed to recall that once I got into an argument with a bunch of Craigslist trolls about whether or not a fat woman (who might, after all, be their favorite teacher or their mother or their boss) could conceivably have any value to society. The unanimous consensus was that if they didn't want to bang her, she might as well be dead. So much for society.
(By the way, my cholesterol is probably lower than yours and my arthritis is inherited from my 98-pound mother.)
I wasn't fat until I hit my 20s. I was raised in the Projects and went to ghetto schools, and since I developed early I got called fat so often that I absorbed that belief with my multiplication tables. When I did get fat it felt pretty natural, to tell you the truth. What was the big deal?
Anyway, never having added “beauty” to my mental resume, I concentrated on other things. I am smart, and funny, and extremely nurturing (which doesn't always go with “smart” and “funny”). I'm bouncy and enthusiastic and organized and skilled in a wide range of areas. These things have given me an air of confidence that tends to confound people who can't believe I'm putting myself out there. I mean, why would an ugly fat woman WANT to shop for negligees, have a baby, swim laps, speak in public or dance? It confuses people that I'm not in a corner covered in shame.
The foregoing is not a cry for sympathy. It's a statement of fact, as if you were writing, “My eyes are brown” or “my hair is short” or “I am tone-deaf.” Most of the time I don't even think about it, because goofy-looking and overweight are not things that matter much to me.
They do matter sometimes, though. I love clothes, and like most other women I long for fluffy red cashmere sweaters in the fall and gauzy white peasant blouses in the summer. I get polyester double-knit tunics in colors from the planet Krypton no matter what the season, because designers don't make beautiful clothes in my size. Anything over size 12 apparently falls into the “slipcover” category. It matters, too, when I go somewhere in my official capacity as Someone's Mother or Someone's Wife. I would really love to be beautiful then. My people love me as I am, but I'm always so sorry to embarrass them by not being a Cosmo Woman.
There are a few things I like about myself. I love my eyes. I like my boobs (even though they're a lot lower down than they used to be). I think my hair is a pretty color and I am excited about the silver streaks that are coming into it. I put on makeup every day of my life – foundation, eyeliner, shadow, mascara, blusher, lipstick, gloss) because that's what my mother did so that's how women DO. I like being clean and well-groomed; beyond that I just don't usually think about it very much. I think about things like writing and gardening and chickens and my family and sex.
Lance thinks I'm beautiful. I don't understand why, but he really, sincerely thinks so. Partly I think it's because when he looks at me he sees the 19-year-old with waist-length gold hair who could wear a 2-piece swimsuit. Partly I think it's because we're both extremely sensual and he sees me through the eyes of how I make him feel and how I express the way I feel.
Sometimes, though . . . sometimes I catch sight of myself in a mirror or a window and I can see it. Sometimes I'll be wearing a dress that makes me look – just for a moment - curvy and delicious instead of like the Michelin Tire Man. Sometimes I'll catch a glimpse of myself laughing and see how someone who eats life by the handfuls could be more attractive than someone who is forever reining themselves in. Sometimes I'll walk into a room and watch my husband's eyes narrow and his lips turn up at the corners when he sees me.
Sometimes, I'm beautiful. It could be that we all are.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Veterans' Day Musings
Mollie writes:
My husband is a retired Naval Reserve officer. My son is an active duty Air Force Captain with a few deployments under his belt. My father was a sonar technician, on both submarines and destroyers, in the Pacific during WWII, and my father-in-law was a CPO store keeper during the taking of Okinawa. My mother's brother, Bill, was in stationed in the Philippines when Japan invaded, and endured the the horrors of the Bataan Death March and subsequent imprisonment in a POW camp. My father's brother, Bill, was killed in the Pacific, fighting for each of us.
Each of them has a story to tell, just as EVERY service person has a story to tell. Lest we forget that all service people are important to the bigger picture, I have a story that is both amusing and profound.
During the Vietnam War, my husband was a electronics technician, ultimately achieving Second Class Petty Officer. He was also stationed in the Philippines, at Subic Bay on Luzon Island. While the war raged, he repaired electronic equipment.
John is an electronics kinda guy. Early on, the Navy realized this and sent him for additional training once he was out of basic training. Once he reached the Philippines, he was charged with repairing radios.
Back in the sixties, electronics were just becoming a household word, but my John spoke electronics fluently. This was an area where often the "kids" knew more about the system than the officers did, and John was a classic example.
There was a radio that, frankly, went kerplunk. When John was assigned its repair, he quickly identified the problem as a mal-functioning transformer. He ordered the parts and awaited delivery.
His CO called him on it, not believing that this was the problem. John was called into his office, ordered to bring the schematics, and grilled on the repairs he had stipulated. The CO was convinced that the problem wasn't with the transformer and ordered John to review his work and, ultimately, "fix the problem."
Well, the problem WAS the transformer, so John ordered the CO's driver to pick up the parts. The driver was a Philippine national, a civilian, and was able to leave the base to pick up the parts quickly without a lot of administrative hoo-hah.
He did it with all due speed and gusto. When John had the parts, he repaired the radio and all was put right on heaven and earth.
Later that day, John was in the mess and the CO came and thanked John for his work. When he asked what the problem really was, John told him it was the transformer and that the CO's driver had gotten the parts on John's request.
I guess the CO looked a little surprised. John went on to explain that, although he'd been told that the transformer wasn't the problem, John knew it was. AND the CO had told John, just before dismissing him, to "fix the problem." So, John did fix the problem, it was the transformer.
The CO just shrugged it off. No big deal.
We hear a lot about egos, etc. in the military. But we don't get the little stories, the minutia of everyday service. If fixing the transformer was John's duty, he did his duty and fixed the transformer. John's CO was humble enough to see it.
So, this Veteran's day, celebrate doing your duty. Remember that the military is filled with souls of talent, inspiration, stubbornness and a willingness to obey a command, even if it's politically incorrect.
Forty years later, after claiming GI benefits, John has earned a BS, MS and doctorate in all things electronic (ok, maybe not all things, but a lot of things!).
And, he's a big-time expert on transformers!
(for more information on where a kid can take his service-encouraged talents, Google
"John H. Brunke" AND transformers)
My husband is a retired Naval Reserve officer. My son is an active duty Air Force Captain with a few deployments under his belt. My father was a sonar technician, on both submarines and destroyers, in the Pacific during WWII, and my father-in-law was a CPO store keeper during the taking of Okinawa. My mother's brother, Bill, was in stationed in the Philippines when Japan invaded, and endured the the horrors of the Bataan Death March and subsequent imprisonment in a POW camp. My father's brother, Bill, was killed in the Pacific, fighting for each of us.
Each of them has a story to tell, just as EVERY service person has a story to tell. Lest we forget that all service people are important to the bigger picture, I have a story that is both amusing and profound.
During the Vietnam War, my husband was a electronics technician, ultimately achieving Second Class Petty Officer. He was also stationed in the Philippines, at Subic Bay on Luzon Island. While the war raged, he repaired electronic equipment.
John is an electronics kinda guy. Early on, the Navy realized this and sent him for additional training once he was out of basic training. Once he reached the Philippines, he was charged with repairing radios.
Back in the sixties, electronics were just becoming a household word, but my John spoke electronics fluently. This was an area where often the "kids" knew more about the system than the officers did, and John was a classic example.
There was a radio that, frankly, went kerplunk. When John was assigned its repair, he quickly identified the problem as a mal-functioning transformer. He ordered the parts and awaited delivery.
His CO called him on it, not believing that this was the problem. John was called into his office, ordered to bring the schematics, and grilled on the repairs he had stipulated. The CO was convinced that the problem wasn't with the transformer and ordered John to review his work and, ultimately, "fix the problem."
Well, the problem WAS the transformer, so John ordered the CO's driver to pick up the parts. The driver was a Philippine national, a civilian, and was able to leave the base to pick up the parts quickly without a lot of administrative hoo-hah.
He did it with all due speed and gusto. When John had the parts, he repaired the radio and all was put right on heaven and earth.
Later that day, John was in the mess and the CO came and thanked John for his work. When he asked what the problem really was, John told him it was the transformer and that the CO's driver had gotten the parts on John's request.
I guess the CO looked a little surprised. John went on to explain that, although he'd been told that the transformer wasn't the problem, John knew it was. AND the CO had told John, just before dismissing him, to "fix the problem." So, John did fix the problem, it was the transformer.
The CO just shrugged it off. No big deal.
We hear a lot about egos, etc. in the military. But we don't get the little stories, the minutia of everyday service. If fixing the transformer was John's duty, he did his duty and fixed the transformer. John's CO was humble enough to see it.
So, this Veteran's day, celebrate doing your duty. Remember that the military is filled with souls of talent, inspiration, stubbornness and a willingness to obey a command, even if it's politically incorrect.
Forty years later, after claiming GI benefits, John has earned a BS, MS and doctorate in all things electronic (ok, maybe not all things, but a lot of things!).
And, he's a big-time expert on transformers!
(for more information on where a kid can take his service-encouraged talents, Google
"John H. Brunke" AND transformers)
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Cleaning with Real Men!
During the years that John traveled and I was a SAHM, I did 'purt near all the cleaning. It just didn't seem fair to stick him with maintenance stuff when he was home so infrequently, so not only did I clean by myself, I moved pianos and mowed the lawn. I even spread barkdust!
But a lot of that changed after I was diagnosed with MS. The first to go was piano moving, followed by lawn mowing and bark moving. At some point we moved to our home in Tigard, where nary a blade of grass graced our yard - it was all garden, evergreens and decks. Once the heavy work of landscaping was done, I could manage most of the maintenance myself.
I also went back to work around that time. John's sense of fair play kicked in, and realizing that it also wasn't fair that I had to work full-time, do the mommy thing and be a solo parent when he traveled, he started cleaning a bit. I was awed and amazed at how well men clean!
John had been an enlisted man in the Navy before he was a commissioned officer (it's called being a "mustang"). Starting at the very bottom of the flag pole, he learned how to clean as only a naval swabbie could clean. I started to notice how our toilets sparkled and how clean the shower got when he was on bathroom duty. After 15 years of marriage, it was fun to learn of these hidden gifts.
We turned Saturday mornings into "field day" chez Brunke. The boys would clean their bedrooms and bathrooms (meaning they'd stuff their laundry under their beds) and John and I would tackle the living areas and the other baths. We got to be so organized that we could clean our house in three hours. We didn't polish silver, mind you, but we mopped, dusted, vacuumed, put stuff away; the basics of cleaning. With the four of us, things got done!
Now it's just the two of us. We are in a smaller home, but still, it requires a lot of work. So every so often I have a hissy fit and demand that we clean up. John is usually a good sport and just cleans his heart out. But yesterday was different.
It was more.
John has power tools, air tools, you name it. Our upstairs has some lovely vaulted ceilings, but with wall hangings, light fixtures, shelves and the lot, cleaning gets dicey for me. So yesterday, John brought his power tools upstairs and cleaned away.
He has some kind of air hose gadget that blasts dusts off high areas. He has a power steamer that he cleans door and window jams with, he has power tools that will blow your mind away, and watching him yesterday apply all these tools was thrilling. Nothing cleans like a guy with tools!
I wasn't idle, either. I dusted, cleaned bathrooms, cleaned the kitchen, washed windows and polished furniture. The upstairs is now kinda sparkly.
This leaves the basement. I'll clean the two bedrooms and bath, while John cleans his shop (more on that in another entry) and his den. And yep, I can see power tools playing a major role.
Marriages evolve. What used to be 'women's" work is now shared equally. But it's easier to achieve equality with air tools!
But a lot of that changed after I was diagnosed with MS. The first to go was piano moving, followed by lawn mowing and bark moving. At some point we moved to our home in Tigard, where nary a blade of grass graced our yard - it was all garden, evergreens and decks. Once the heavy work of landscaping was done, I could manage most of the maintenance myself.
I also went back to work around that time. John's sense of fair play kicked in, and realizing that it also wasn't fair that I had to work full-time, do the mommy thing and be a solo parent when he traveled, he started cleaning a bit. I was awed and amazed at how well men clean!
John had been an enlisted man in the Navy before he was a commissioned officer (it's called being a "mustang"). Starting at the very bottom of the flag pole, he learned how to clean as only a naval swabbie could clean. I started to notice how our toilets sparkled and how clean the shower got when he was on bathroom duty. After 15 years of marriage, it was fun to learn of these hidden gifts.
We turned Saturday mornings into "field day" chez Brunke. The boys would clean their bedrooms and bathrooms (meaning they'd stuff their laundry under their beds) and John and I would tackle the living areas and the other baths. We got to be so organized that we could clean our house in three hours. We didn't polish silver, mind you, but we mopped, dusted, vacuumed, put stuff away; the basics of cleaning. With the four of us, things got done!
Now it's just the two of us. We are in a smaller home, but still, it requires a lot of work. So every so often I have a hissy fit and demand that we clean up. John is usually a good sport and just cleans his heart out. But yesterday was different.
It was more.
John has power tools, air tools, you name it. Our upstairs has some lovely vaulted ceilings, but with wall hangings, light fixtures, shelves and the lot, cleaning gets dicey for me. So yesterday, John brought his power tools upstairs and cleaned away.
He has some kind of air hose gadget that blasts dusts off high areas. He has a power steamer that he cleans door and window jams with, he has power tools that will blow your mind away, and watching him yesterday apply all these tools was thrilling. Nothing cleans like a guy with tools!
I wasn't idle, either. I dusted, cleaned bathrooms, cleaned the kitchen, washed windows and polished furniture. The upstairs is now kinda sparkly.
This leaves the basement. I'll clean the two bedrooms and bath, while John cleans his shop (more on that in another entry) and his den. And yep, I can see power tools playing a major role.
Marriages evolve. What used to be 'women's" work is now shared equally. But it's easier to achieve equality with air tools!
Monday, November 8, 2010
When Sex Dries Up
Anonymous writes:
Mollie writes:
Sex sure is a temperamental part of marriage, especially once the babies come home. Hang in there. Have you considered a "date night" like Millie's? Also, just a little honest chat?
Remind him that you married him for more than sex and be sure he knows he's appreciated for everything he does, in and outside the bedroom.
Millie writes:
I can’t stand head-games, but bed-games are a different story. Think back to before you were married, when the sex was (presumably) good; have your approaches changed since you tied the knot, or is it your expectations that have changed?
One suggestion for perking up the conjugal blahs is to flirt. If you think of flirting as a game that you don’t “have” to play anymore because you’re married, think again. Too many women act like sexy little bundles of cooing admiration until they get that ring on the finger, and then “Get Husband” becomes one more crossed-off item on their To-Do lists and the only times they talk to the poor bewildered guy are to tell him to take out the trash and to yell at him for not being more romantic. Maybe he wonders where his playmate went.
You don’t have to play dress-up (unless you want to) and speak to him in a teensy little Zooey Deschanel voice (unless he likes it) to flirt. Just drop a comment at breakfast time: “Huh; I have the feeling I’m gonna be feeling reaaaal frisky tonight!” to give him something to think about during his workday. Admire his arms (a squeeze and a “H'm!” is enough) or run your fingers through his hair. Let him know you think he’s desirable without overwhelming him with your desire. You can ask him, even after he makes an ordinary comment, “Honey, are you FLIRTING with me?” with a delighted grin.
It sounds obvious, but you must talk to him. Just don’t charge into it screaming, “You NEVER initiate sex and it makes me feel like an UGLY COW and we’re going to TALK ABOUT THIS and FIX IT RIGHT NOW!” That approach is enough to turn off the most libidinous man. Instead, some time when you’re both relaxed, start a “remember when” conversation. “Remember that night we necked for hours in the back seat of your dad’s car?” or “Remember the time we ducked into the bathroom at that boring party for a quickie? That was so hot!” Turn the conversation to things you both like or things you’ve always wanted to try. Don’t start anything physical, just keep it easy and fun.
When you do have sex, don’t spoil it afterward by saying, “Whew! It’s about time!” or something equally rude – he’ll feel as though he just can’t win. Give him a lascivious smile or a lewd wink a few hours later to remind you both of the fun you had together; whisper, “Yummy!” in his ear while you’re watching TV that night. Purr.
Concentrate on why you love him and make a special effort to connect with him on those wavelengths. It’s too easy to let resentment about the sexual famine come between you. You may think, “Why should I have to be the one to do all the flirting? It’s the 21st century, for goodness’ sake; we’re supposed to be equals.” Well, successful relationships have never been 50/50, despite what you may have heard; they are usually 90/10. Some days you’re the 90, some days you’re the 10; in any case, you are hoping to make things better, so don’t worry about keeping score; relax and enjoy one another as much as you can. A great sex life is a joy and a blessing to any woman.
If I'd known the sex would all but dry up when we got married, I might have approached things differently. I don't like having to be the one constantly asking for it. I want my man to be aggressive and pursue sex with me instead of just giving it a go when I pursue it. I just hope I can make peace with it, since the rest is pretty good. Maybe I need to let him chase me a bit more... I just can't stand games.
Mollie writes:
Sex sure is a temperamental part of marriage, especially once the babies come home. Hang in there. Have you considered a "date night" like Millie's? Also, just a little honest chat?
Remind him that you married him for more than sex and be sure he knows he's appreciated for everything he does, in and outside the bedroom.
Millie writes:
I can’t stand head-games, but bed-games are a different story. Think back to before you were married, when the sex was (presumably) good; have your approaches changed since you tied the knot, or is it your expectations that have changed?
One suggestion for perking up the conjugal blahs is to flirt. If you think of flirting as a game that you don’t “have” to play anymore because you’re married, think again. Too many women act like sexy little bundles of cooing admiration until they get that ring on the finger, and then “Get Husband” becomes one more crossed-off item on their To-Do lists and the only times they talk to the poor bewildered guy are to tell him to take out the trash and to yell at him for not being more romantic. Maybe he wonders where his playmate went.
You don’t have to play dress-up (unless you want to) and speak to him in a teensy little Zooey Deschanel voice (unless he likes it) to flirt. Just drop a comment at breakfast time: “Huh; I have the feeling I’m gonna be feeling reaaaal frisky tonight!” to give him something to think about during his workday. Admire his arms (a squeeze and a “H'm!” is enough) or run your fingers through his hair. Let him know you think he’s desirable without overwhelming him with your desire. You can ask him, even after he makes an ordinary comment, “Honey, are you FLIRTING with me?” with a delighted grin.
It sounds obvious, but you must talk to him. Just don’t charge into it screaming, “You NEVER initiate sex and it makes me feel like an UGLY COW and we’re going to TALK ABOUT THIS and FIX IT RIGHT NOW!” That approach is enough to turn off the most libidinous man. Instead, some time when you’re both relaxed, start a “remember when” conversation. “Remember that night we necked for hours in the back seat of your dad’s car?” or “Remember the time we ducked into the bathroom at that boring party for a quickie? That was so hot!” Turn the conversation to things you both like or things you’ve always wanted to try. Don’t start anything physical, just keep it easy and fun.
When you do have sex, don’t spoil it afterward by saying, “Whew! It’s about time!” or something equally rude – he’ll feel as though he just can’t win. Give him a lascivious smile or a lewd wink a few hours later to remind you both of the fun you had together; whisper, “Yummy!” in his ear while you’re watching TV that night. Purr.
Concentrate on why you love him and make a special effort to connect with him on those wavelengths. It’s too easy to let resentment about the sexual famine come between you. You may think, “Why should I have to be the one to do all the flirting? It’s the 21st century, for goodness’ sake; we’re supposed to be equals.” Well, successful relationships have never been 50/50, despite what you may have heard; they are usually 90/10. Some days you’re the 90, some days you’re the 10; in any case, you are hoping to make things better, so don’t worry about keeping score; relax and enjoy one another as much as you can. A great sex life is a joy and a blessing to any woman.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
A Query to Our Gentle Readers
May writes:
Hello to all of you out there in Millie and Mollie land!
It's been a while since I've been able to think of anything good to post, so today I'm cheating a little bit and asking for help with a quandary of my own. Phil and I are slowly starting the process of trying to buy a house, and as such we're taking steps to save as much money as we can. So far this hasn't made too big a difference in our day-to-day lives, but with the holidays coming up I'm feeling a little down. For the last two years (and for my entire childhood) we always pulled out all the stops, especially at Christmas, and spoiled rotten our families and each other. This year, since we'll be out of town for almost a week and we don't want the cats to destroy it, we're not even going to put up a tree (although we might get a tiny one that will fit on a bookshelf or something). This is something we've been planning for months, but as the holiday season draws ever nearer, I must confess that I've been feeling a little down about it.
So, all that being said, my question to you is this. What suggestions can you offer in the way of making a special Christmas on not a lot of money? I'm sure there's a lot of great advice out there and I would love to hear from any and all of you. Fire away!!!
Millie writes:
What a timely question. This is a topic many of us are considering at this time of the year even if we're not saving up for a house; budgets are tighter now than they have been for a long time, and we don't want to short-change our families by making Christmas seem like a bargain-basement exercise.
Fortunately there are a lot of ways to make your holidays as merry and bright as they have always been; and as a matter of fact, the extra thought and love that goes into each gift, decoration and celebratory occasion may make this Christmas your best one yet. Take heart, dear May!
1. Do something every single day. Starting on December 1 (or the day after Thanksgiving, if you can't stand to wait that long), have a small ceremony, project or outing planned for each day between then and Christmas Eve. It doesn't have to be a big thing: Sending out your Christmas cards (even if they're free e-cards), lighting a pine-scented candle, baking cookies or watching a library DVD of National Lampoon's Christmas are all examples of things you can do that don't cost a dime. The important thing is to have something to look forward to; it makes Christmas last longer!
2. Have clear expectations. Since right now it's just you and Phil at home, you don't need to worry about disappointing children. Talk to your extended families as soon as you can and let them know your plans; let them know that you'll be giving home-made gifts or even skipping gifts this year, and that you'd like them to cut back on what they give you (so you won't have as much to pack and move). If you do exchange gifts, you could make matching knitted stocking caps, small caricatures or any other home-made items that feature your particular skills. Be clear with each other, too. Decide on the number of gifts you'll exchange if you worry that it will be extremely lopsided. Have a talk about what traditions are really important to you and which ones you'd be willing to skip this year, then just do the important ones. If you don't care much about sending cards but it wouldn't be Christmas without stocking-stuffers, concentrate on picking up a bunch of little whimsical gifts and forget about buying envelopes and postage this year.
3. Give dreams. Buying a house is a huge, wonderful milestone, and it's a super-fantastic gift you are giving each other. Consider having a house-themed Christmas celebration! Make a gingerbread house together. Find a fancy skeleton key at a secondhand store or a locksmithy and present it as the "key to your heart." Haunt the Goodwill for "house" movies like The Money Pit or Mouse Hunt and wrap them in the "For Sale - Houses" section of the Sunday paper. Check out used bookstores for "How To" manuals on plumbing, roofing, basic carpentry and other necessary homeowner skills.
4. Remember to live where you are now. Even though you will be out of town a lot during the holiday season, when you ARE home make the most of it. Don't put Christmas off until next year. Get the small tabletop tree and put it high on a shelf, or make it portable so that you can lock it in a closed room when you are away. Put a fresh wreath on your front door so that you can have the smell of Christmas even if you don't have a live tree this year. Decorate your windows with garlands, artificial snow, window clings - whatever says "Christmas!" to you. As you know, Christmas is more than just spending a few frenzied hours one early morning ripping open presents; Christmas proper is the whole season. Don't just flop on the couch and watch TV after work in December; spend a little time treasuring your home and your relationship.
5. Opt for the experience. There are a lot of things to do this time of year that you can't do at any other time, and it sounds like this might be your year to collect these experiences! Take a picnic lunch in a basket out to a cut-your-own tree farm and ride the hay wagon into the woods; you don't need to actually be cutting a tree to enjoy the farm. Eat your picnic while you enjoy the sights, sounds and smells, then ride the wagon back to the farm and buy a wreath, some evergreen garland or some jams or honey for your Christmas morning breakfast. Round up your friends and go caroling, the way you've been talking about since seventh grade. Go to a high-school music concert. Wander through church bazaars. See how many Salvation Army bell-ringers you can locate in an hour; put a quarter in each pot you find.
6. Be Christmas elves. There is nothing that will bring you out of the doldrums faster than doing something for somebody else for no reward but the goodwill you will feel. Shovel and sand (or sweep) an elderly neighbor's walkway. Crochet a snowflake ornament, wrap it neatly and leave it on someone's porch with a "Merry Christmas!" label - ring the bell and run! As you're packing things away in preparation for your move, go through your kitchen cupboards and dig out those canned and packaged foods you never got around to using; donate them to your local Food Bank. Many schools have coat drives this time of year; donate good-condition cast-off coats, hats and scarves to a drive, or good-condition clothes of all kinds to your city's PTA Clothes Closet.
7. Go for quantity over quality. This is not the time for the carefully-chosen, once-in-a-lifetime gift; this is the time for 10 gaily-wrapped packages from the Dollar Store and the Goodwill. Select things that are consumable - candy, drawing paper and colored pencils, jigsaw puzzles, assortments of coffees - and spread them out around the room as much as you can for Christmas morning. The impressive display will help to reassure that tiny voice that chirps, "but . . . where's CHRISTMAS?" even though Adult You knows you're saving for a house.
8. Enjoy the differences. While this year may not bring the sort of Christmas you're used to, you're actually in what many people would consider an enviable position. You're young, you're beautiful, you're healthy, you're madly in love with your husband and it's Christmas-time! Revel in it! In a few years you'll be a homeowner and mother, with all the joy these two things bring. Right now, though, you don't have a leaky roof, a leaky bank account or a leaky baby puking down your neck. Make 2010 the year you dress up in high heels and go dancing every night in December (even if it's in your living room)! Accept every party invitation you get! Go to concerts and movies and banquets! Enjoy being alive and successful and in love.
9. Give yourself a break. Don't be too rigid with yourself or with each other. If you're both feeling sad, agree to loosen the reins just a bit. In the long run it won't affect your home-buying timeline very much if you splurge a tiny bit, very carefully. Often just giving yourselves permission to cut loose a smidge relieves the compulsion to do so.
10. Count your blessings. Starting on Thanksgiving morning, each of you take a sticky note and write down something in your life for which you're grateful. Exchange the notes and read them out loud, then post the sticky notes above your bed. Add to them each morning, and at bedtime spend a moment reviewing what you've written so far. As the notes build up, you will begin to look at your life through more appreciative eyes; spending time each day thinking about how much you have together, and how wonderfully your life will continue to grow, will remind you that you have already given each other the best Christmas gifts of all.
Mollie writes:
John and I have had our lean years, too. Peter and Roger probably didn't notice because we substituted a lot of underwear, socks, sweatshirts, etc. for the luxury gifts. But we did make a point of buying each of you boys one nice thing.
Have fun with what you have. Remember all those tacky Christmas stockings? We put odor-eaters, cough drops, Bic pens, tylenol, Bean-o and other silly things in 'em. Oh, yeah, you're getting tacky ones this year, too. We started this tradition one year when things were a little lean, and we've kept it going.
Give coupons! I'd love a coupon for baby snuggles whenever my kids become parents. Just be sure to give Millie and Mollie the most. You don't want to leave us out in the cold - so be sure we get plenty, and don't favor a Millie over a Mollie. Remember Sleeping Beauty? You can have fun decorating them and I can't imagine anything sweeter or more precious than this.
Another coupon could be a weekend to visit you in your new future home. Personally, I'd LOVE this!
Watch a whole lotta Christmas movies. Do the "Christmas Story" one, or "It's a Wonderful Life" or "Home Alone" or whatever. Get dressed up like the characters and have friends over. Have key phrases like "you'll put your eye out" so that you can each have a handful of popcorn or a swig of soda pop when it comes up.
Over the years, John and I have learned what NOT to give each other. John will never again give me a port-a-potty for camping, and I will never, never, EVER give him anything electronic. So have some fun and make lists of exactly what you DON'T want for Christmas. Start with fruitcake. Think of all the future Christmases you'll save by thinking ahead like this!
I'll post more as the spirit moves me, but here's a good start!
Hello to all of you out there in Millie and Mollie land!
It's been a while since I've been able to think of anything good to post, so today I'm cheating a little bit and asking for help with a quandary of my own. Phil and I are slowly starting the process of trying to buy a house, and as such we're taking steps to save as much money as we can. So far this hasn't made too big a difference in our day-to-day lives, but with the holidays coming up I'm feeling a little down. For the last two years (and for my entire childhood) we always pulled out all the stops, especially at Christmas, and spoiled rotten our families and each other. This year, since we'll be out of town for almost a week and we don't want the cats to destroy it, we're not even going to put up a tree (although we might get a tiny one that will fit on a bookshelf or something). This is something we've been planning for months, but as the holiday season draws ever nearer, I must confess that I've been feeling a little down about it.
So, all that being said, my question to you is this. What suggestions can you offer in the way of making a special Christmas on not a lot of money? I'm sure there's a lot of great advice out there and I would love to hear from any and all of you. Fire away!!!
Millie writes:
What a timely question. This is a topic many of us are considering at this time of the year even if we're not saving up for a house; budgets are tighter now than they have been for a long time, and we don't want to short-change our families by making Christmas seem like a bargain-basement exercise.
Fortunately there are a lot of ways to make your holidays as merry and bright as they have always been; and as a matter of fact, the extra thought and love that goes into each gift, decoration and celebratory occasion may make this Christmas your best one yet. Take heart, dear May!
1. Do something every single day. Starting on December 1 (or the day after Thanksgiving, if you can't stand to wait that long), have a small ceremony, project or outing planned for each day between then and Christmas Eve. It doesn't have to be a big thing: Sending out your Christmas cards (even if they're free e-cards), lighting a pine-scented candle, baking cookies or watching a library DVD of National Lampoon's Christmas are all examples of things you can do that don't cost a dime. The important thing is to have something to look forward to; it makes Christmas last longer!
2. Have clear expectations. Since right now it's just you and Phil at home, you don't need to worry about disappointing children. Talk to your extended families as soon as you can and let them know your plans; let them know that you'll be giving home-made gifts or even skipping gifts this year, and that you'd like them to cut back on what they give you (so you won't have as much to pack and move). If you do exchange gifts, you could make matching knitted stocking caps, small caricatures or any other home-made items that feature your particular skills. Be clear with each other, too. Decide on the number of gifts you'll exchange if you worry that it will be extremely lopsided. Have a talk about what traditions are really important to you and which ones you'd be willing to skip this year, then just do the important ones. If you don't care much about sending cards but it wouldn't be Christmas without stocking-stuffers, concentrate on picking up a bunch of little whimsical gifts and forget about buying envelopes and postage this year.
3. Give dreams. Buying a house is a huge, wonderful milestone, and it's a super-fantastic gift you are giving each other. Consider having a house-themed Christmas celebration! Make a gingerbread house together. Find a fancy skeleton key at a secondhand store or a locksmithy and present it as the "key to your heart." Haunt the Goodwill for "house" movies like The Money Pit or Mouse Hunt and wrap them in the "For Sale - Houses" section of the Sunday paper. Check out used bookstores for "How To" manuals on plumbing, roofing, basic carpentry and other necessary homeowner skills.
4. Remember to live where you are now. Even though you will be out of town a lot during the holiday season, when you ARE home make the most of it. Don't put Christmas off until next year. Get the small tabletop tree and put it high on a shelf, or make it portable so that you can lock it in a closed room when you are away. Put a fresh wreath on your front door so that you can have the smell of Christmas even if you don't have a live tree this year. Decorate your windows with garlands, artificial snow, window clings - whatever says "Christmas!" to you. As you know, Christmas is more than just spending a few frenzied hours one early morning ripping open presents; Christmas proper is the whole season. Don't just flop on the couch and watch TV after work in December; spend a little time treasuring your home and your relationship.
5. Opt for the experience. There are a lot of things to do this time of year that you can't do at any other time, and it sounds like this might be your year to collect these experiences! Take a picnic lunch in a basket out to a cut-your-own tree farm and ride the hay wagon into the woods; you don't need to actually be cutting a tree to enjoy the farm. Eat your picnic while you enjoy the sights, sounds and smells, then ride the wagon back to the farm and buy a wreath, some evergreen garland or some jams or honey for your Christmas morning breakfast. Round up your friends and go caroling, the way you've been talking about since seventh grade. Go to a high-school music concert. Wander through church bazaars. See how many Salvation Army bell-ringers you can locate in an hour; put a quarter in each pot you find.
6. Be Christmas elves. There is nothing that will bring you out of the doldrums faster than doing something for somebody else for no reward but the goodwill you will feel. Shovel and sand (or sweep) an elderly neighbor's walkway. Crochet a snowflake ornament, wrap it neatly and leave it on someone's porch with a "Merry Christmas!" label - ring the bell and run! As you're packing things away in preparation for your move, go through your kitchen cupboards and dig out those canned and packaged foods you never got around to using; donate them to your local Food Bank. Many schools have coat drives this time of year; donate good-condition cast-off coats, hats and scarves to a drive, or good-condition clothes of all kinds to your city's PTA Clothes Closet.
7. Go for quantity over quality. This is not the time for the carefully-chosen, once-in-a-lifetime gift; this is the time for 10 gaily-wrapped packages from the Dollar Store and the Goodwill. Select things that are consumable - candy, drawing paper and colored pencils, jigsaw puzzles, assortments of coffees - and spread them out around the room as much as you can for Christmas morning. The impressive display will help to reassure that tiny voice that chirps, "but . . . where's CHRISTMAS?" even though Adult You knows you're saving for a house.
8. Enjoy the differences. While this year may not bring the sort of Christmas you're used to, you're actually in what many people would consider an enviable position. You're young, you're beautiful, you're healthy, you're madly in love with your husband and it's Christmas-time! Revel in it! In a few years you'll be a homeowner and mother, with all the joy these two things bring. Right now, though, you don't have a leaky roof, a leaky bank account or a leaky baby puking down your neck. Make 2010 the year you dress up in high heels and go dancing every night in December (even if it's in your living room)! Accept every party invitation you get! Go to concerts and movies and banquets! Enjoy being alive and successful and in love.
9. Give yourself a break. Don't be too rigid with yourself or with each other. If you're both feeling sad, agree to loosen the reins just a bit. In the long run it won't affect your home-buying timeline very much if you splurge a tiny bit, very carefully. Often just giving yourselves permission to cut loose a smidge relieves the compulsion to do so.
10. Count your blessings. Starting on Thanksgiving morning, each of you take a sticky note and write down something in your life for which you're grateful. Exchange the notes and read them out loud, then post the sticky notes above your bed. Add to them each morning, and at bedtime spend a moment reviewing what you've written so far. As the notes build up, you will begin to look at your life through more appreciative eyes; spending time each day thinking about how much you have together, and how wonderfully your life will continue to grow, will remind you that you have already given each other the best Christmas gifts of all.
Mollie writes:
John and I have had our lean years, too. Peter and Roger probably didn't notice because we substituted a lot of underwear, socks, sweatshirts, etc. for the luxury gifts. But we did make a point of buying each of you boys one nice thing.
Have fun with what you have. Remember all those tacky Christmas stockings? We put odor-eaters, cough drops, Bic pens, tylenol, Bean-o and other silly things in 'em. Oh, yeah, you're getting tacky ones this year, too. We started this tradition one year when things were a little lean, and we've kept it going.
Give coupons! I'd love a coupon for baby snuggles whenever my kids become parents. Just be sure to give Millie and Mollie the most. You don't want to leave us out in the cold - so be sure we get plenty, and don't favor a Millie over a Mollie. Remember Sleeping Beauty? You can have fun decorating them and I can't imagine anything sweeter or more precious than this.
Another coupon could be a weekend to visit you in your new future home. Personally, I'd LOVE this!
Watch a whole lotta Christmas movies. Do the "Christmas Story" one, or "It's a Wonderful Life" or "Home Alone" or whatever. Get dressed up like the characters and have friends over. Have key phrases like "you'll put your eye out" so that you can each have a handful of popcorn or a swig of soda pop when it comes up.
Over the years, John and I have learned what NOT to give each other. John will never again give me a port-a-potty for camping, and I will never, never, EVER give him anything electronic. So have some fun and make lists of exactly what you DON'T want for Christmas. Start with fruitcake. Think of all the future Christmases you'll save by thinking ahead like this!
I'll post more as the spirit moves me, but here's a good start!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Bloggers Unite!
Mollie writes:
First, go to
http://voices.washingtonpost.com/fasterforward/2010/11/cooks_source_masters_new_recip.html
and read the facts.
We little folks have to stand up for ourselves. Look out for your hard work being plagiarized by others.
Not only will they steal your hard work, but they'll bully you into believing that you deserved it! Ms Griggs must have learned her journalistic ethics at Styx University.
Personally, I plan on boycotting any supporter of "Cooks Source" or Judith Griggs.
Millie writes:
Since my OTHER other other job is as a professional writer - with much of what I write published online - I'm glad this sort of thing is finally getting the public attention it deserves. No, in fact, the Internet is NOT "public domain" - otherwise uploading music without paying for it would be perfectly okay. If you publish your writing - or photography or music or anything else - online and you're concerned about copyright, be sure to include a line with your work such as "Copyright Jane Doe, 2010."
Misconceptions like Ms. Griggs' are commonplace (though unconscionable in an editor), but intellectual property is just like any other kind - if it's not yours, don't use it without permission!
First, go to
http://voices.washingtonpost.com/fasterforward/2010/11/cooks_source_masters_new_recip.html
and read the facts.
We little folks have to stand up for ourselves. Look out for your hard work being plagiarized by others.
Not only will they steal your hard work, but they'll bully you into believing that you deserved it! Ms Griggs must have learned her journalistic ethics at Styx University.
Personally, I plan on boycotting any supporter of "Cooks Source" or Judith Griggs.
Millie writes:
Since my OTHER other other job is as a professional writer - with much of what I write published online - I'm glad this sort of thing is finally getting the public attention it deserves. No, in fact, the Internet is NOT "public domain" - otherwise uploading music without paying for it would be perfectly okay. If you publish your writing - or photography or music or anything else - online and you're concerned about copyright, be sure to include a line with your work such as "Copyright Jane Doe, 2010."
Misconceptions like Ms. Griggs' are commonplace (though unconscionable in an editor), but intellectual property is just like any other kind - if it's not yours, don't use it without permission!
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