While I am not actively involved with Blogger Idol, as I’m too lazy to check out how the whole process works, there was an assignment in Week 2… "a day in the life of me, but from the perspective of the opposite gender" Interesting… I mean maybe not a day of my life per se… but just to write a blog, about a day, from the perspective of the opposite gender. I mean... write the female version of me. This has got to be awesome. I apologize for the length in advance, but it was unavoidable. Apparently, I'm one of those "chatty" girls. As always... feedback is key.
A day in the life of Danielle..
6:45am- A weight shifts on my husband and I’s bed. My eyes slowly open. In the bright sunshine of our naturally lit and spacious bedroom, I see my husband sitting next to me on the bed. He has a smile in his eye and bends down to kiss me softly on the lips. A cup of my favorite morning blend coffee is in one hand. With his free hand, he tucks a strand of stray hair behind my ear. He says “Good Morning Beautiful, time to get up.” He sets my coffee down on my nightstand and gives my pert bottom a playful smack. As he gets up, he smiles at me mischievously, (reminding me of last night’s amazing activities) and then walks out the door, towards our children’s rooms. He has already dressed for work. I can smell his sandalwood scented aftershave, as it wafts across the room. He is so gorgeous. Still the man I feel in love with. He works out every morning, rarely drinks and his body is still as lean and hard as it was, when we first started dating. I smile to myself, as I swing my legs out of bed onto the floor. I reach for my peignoir robe and satin mules. I go into our large, marble master bath and complete my morning toilet. I wash my face, brush my hair and then my teeth. I step on the scale lastly and see the same number that has greeted me every morning, other than when I was pregnant. Some things should never change and I’m proud that my weight is still that, from when I was in college.
7:15am- I go down the stairs and walk into our designer kitchen. I see my husband and my beautiful children at the table, eating their breakfast; which my husband prepared for them. He is such a fantastic cook. I say “Good Morning” to my children and kiss their cheeks. I think to myself how lucky I am, that my boys don’t turn or fuss when I kiss them. They go back to their discussion on who’s the better Superhero. "Duh", I think to myself, it’s Ironman; but I let them go on about Superman and Batman. I place a well manicured hand on my husband’s shoulder. When he looks up at me, I quickly plant a brief, but memorable kiss on his lips and graze my finger along his ear lobe. Something I know drives him crazy, but in our current situation… he is helpless to do anything about. I whisper into his ear “Payback for that smack, maybe later Mister”. He smiles and says “Count on it”
8:00am- I’m in my master closet deciding what to wear. My husband and the boys left for work and school a few minutes ago. I’m meeting with some Blogging Mommies today and we’re meeting at Easton for lunch. Not to dressy I think to myself, I don’t want to shove our wealth in anyone’s face. Hopefully our lunch goes quickly and I can do some shopping later. Let’s see, “what to wear or what not to wear”, I ask myself. “Not too Nordstrom’s and certainly not too Old Navy” With that I choose
1:00pm- Lunch at California Pizza Kitchen. I choose a light Chicken Caesar Salad and a glass of White Zin. Soon enough, we’ve gotten caught up and we chose which Blog Her convention that we’ll all be attending. Yay!!! I can’t wait. We’re going to Chicago! I love the downtown Macy’s. It’ll always be Marshall Field’s to me… but things change. I’m just happy the landmark is still there.
4:00pm- I’ve just finished my Blog post for the day and regaled my followers with tales of today’s trip to Easton. I’m sure I’ll have to go on later and reply to comments.
5:30pm I’m in the process of finishing up dinner. It’s a new Pinterest recipe! Yay!!! I Can't Wait! It looks and smells FANTASTIC!
9:00pm The boys are in bed. I’m laying on our large oversize, sectional couch and reading a book. I'm enjoying some wine and my new book, "Gone Girl". I can’t believe the nerve of this guy Nick! I just know that he killed his wife. "What a jerk!" I think to myself.. "Poor Amy" I look to my own husband. No... my guy could never be like Nick. He is watching some football game. Fortunately though, it’s mostly background noise, as he is giving me the most amazing foot massage. His hands feel so good and now I’m starting to lose interest in the book, in favor of his touch. After about 10 minutes, he moves up and straddles me and begins to rub my back. I just love he is so in tune with the little things I enjoy. Foot massages and back rubs... I love the way he always just spontaneously does it with no prompting. :-) Oh GAWD… his hands feel so good. I mean REALLY good. Time to pay the Piper I think to myself, as I did say "Maybe later Mister" earlier today. I turn over and smile sweetly at him. I then reach up around his neck and fiercely pull him to me, kissing him hungrily on the mouth. The backs of his hands softly graze my breasts and....
OH Shit…. 6:45am? That bastard hit the damn Snooz button on the alarm. Fuck! We’re all late. I fight and untangle myself from the sheets, which I’ve managed to wrap myself up like King Tut’s mummy in. Quickly I kick at my husband’s back and yell at him to get his ass out bed. Shit, shit, shit … I hate being late!
I run into my son’s room blinding him into awareness and in the process stepping on several fucking Lego’s, which my son can’t be bothered to put the hell away. Note to self.. throw all this shit away while he is at school. Fortunately, my somewhat loud and wholly unintentional “FUCK” as I stepped on the damn Lego’s, has awoken him and he is now scurrying to get ready… bonus. Maybe today won’t suck.
|Hello... I'm Marty and I'm here to scare the|
beejeebus out of you. Our specials today include...
My teenage daughter is fortunately already up and getting ready… bonus… wait no.. I have to use the downstairs restroom and I REALLY have to pee. Shit. I run down the stairs and make it to toilet in time. (barely, why the fuck do the drawstrings on women’s pajama pants get so fucking tight?) Ahhh... Much better, thank you. I reach out for toilet paper… OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! There is a fucking spider on the damn toilet roll! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… don’t scream I think to myself, as I’m sitting here helpless with my pajamas and panties around my ankles and nothing to blast this mother fucker to kingdom come with. Damn teenagers… it’s her fault. Why did she use our bathroom to get ready I wonder. "Okay, think Danielle, you can do this." I grab a spare roll from under the counter, finish my business and pull everything into place. The spider hasn’t fucking moved… I think maybe it’s dead? Smart mom then chimes in and says “Don’t fool yourself girl, that motherfucker wants to eat you! Kill it! Summon your Xena: Warrior Princess and smite that sucker into oblivion!” Yeah.. I think to myself, I can do this. BULLSHIT!!! This is my husband’s job and one of the few things he is good for. He deserves to deal with this, especially after hitting the snooze… and after the not so amazing night he thought it was. I quickly grab a glance in the mirror, smile smugly to myself and let loose like a little girl. I scream… loudly. My husband comes huffing and puffing, from the one flight excursion of stairs looks at me and yells “What the hell is wrong?” I point at the spider and say “KILL IT”. He smiles at me and laughs… he says “Really? Oh my God, Danielle, it’s JUST a spider!” “It is not, JUST a spider." I say "It’s a disgusting hairy thing that has eight fucking legs and probably has 50,000 baby eggs inside of it, waiting to hatch all over me if I touch it. I will NOT KILL it! YOU do it!!”. He smiles at me, looking at me tolerantly (I swear at this moment I want to stab him… after sex maybe, like a Preying Mantis) He looks at me, grabs the spare tissue tissue roll, tears off a few sheets and uses it to squish the spider. I look at him and say “Thank you, now I’m not going to die”
7:15am- I'm standing in the kitchen, while my son is eating. I've just tasted the first sweet drop of caffeine nectar in my coffee. In that moment, I know I will not die today. I throw a Lunchable into my son's Transformer lunch box. “I don’t want anything to eat for breakfast. I'm dieting", states my daughter. Fuck, I don't have time for her drama this morning and I'm still kinda pissed at her for the whole bathroom/spider thing. "Fine", handing her five dollars," just get breakfast at school" At least I know she'll get something there... she always does. Unfortunately I'm out $5 bucks for my smokes... A bad, nasty habit I enjoy because it keeps me sane.
8:00am- Thank God the husband and kids are gone... I can breathe. Think, what needs to be done today? Bathrooms? Meh.. Laundry? Eh... yeah I can get another day out of this bra. New Blog Post? So much pressure.. Facebook? oh who am I kidding. Let's do this thing! Coffee? check! Clean sweats? check! Logging into my page as the: puttogetherbloggingmother.blogspot.com? Check!
No traffic... "Shit' I say to myself. I call my only real blogging friend Stacie and ask her to please give me some "love" and promote my page on hers... I finish the call and tell her "Thank you sooo much! I owe you" I hate that Stacie is so cool and I'm not.
1:00pm- Lunch... I'm not hungry. I'm thirsty. I want something sweet. Hmmm,, wine is sweet. Shit, I just drank half a bottle of wine. Oh well, might as well kill it.
4:00pm- I've finished my blog post. I'm starting the screen and hitting the F5 refresh key every minute. No comments. "I suck at this!" I scream out loud and look down to see our dog nodding his concurrence. I starting to cry. I hate being unpopular... Then I realize, Wait, that can't be it, because I'm awesome. "I bet Stacie forgot to promote me. That's it. I'm sure of it" I say to myself. Where did that new glass of wine come from? Oh well, waste not, want not.
9:00pm- The kids are in bed. I'm bushed. I'm tired. Hubbie and I are on the loveseat in the den and this fool is looking at me, like he wants to go a round in the sheets, which still haven't been washed. "Be a trooper" I tell myself. I lived through college and I know I NEVER washed those sheets my Freshman year. Fuck it... I'm feeling two bottles of wine and I'm bloated and gassy from all the salt in the takeout, which hubbie picked up for dinner. I explain that I'm not feeling well and ask him to rub my back, he responds with "I have something for you that needs rubbed" Great... Thanks Mr. Romantic. I just told you I feel like shit. Would it kill you to offer to rub my back or my feet? It's not like I spend my days fucking off and doing nothing... well excluding today. But a girl needs her mental health days and such was today for Danielle... female, stay at home blogger Mom.