Chicken Fried Vogue

For 15 years and most of her adult life, Bubblez lived in the suburbs of a major metropolitan city. She enjoyed taking her children to museums, parks, and dates at Starbucks. Then Bubblez moved to the country and her En Vogue attitude got chicken fried. Her yard is a park where the neighbor's rooster won't stop crowing, Starbucks is almost an hour away, and her large collection of fancy shoes is worthless. But, living in the acres of green has presented more opportunities for living "green" as Bubblez travels the path toward self-sufficiency (and bitches ((and prays)) along the way).

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

On Desire And Getting Blown

Sometimes being a mom really blows. I'm not talking about sleep deprivation or being run ragged or any other mom stereotype you can think of. I'm talking about the total loss of sex appeal. After spending a day working her tail off with no appreciation whatsoever, the last thing a lady feels is sexy. You have no idea how much I crave feeling sexy.

It's dangerous, this desire to be desirable. We waste time on Facebook or buried inside romance novels, our heads swimming in oceans of make believe lustiness. I wouldn't say that most moms are really out looking for trouble, although I'm pretty sure a lot of them would say avoiding it is a delicate dance.

See, we don't want to rock the boat too hard. We want to feel appreciated and we want to feel beautiful. Our confidence is wrapped up in these things. They are integral to a woman's psyche. She works harder, functions better, has more drive, more energy, more verve if she feels sexy, but, obviously, anyway I hope it's obvious, we love our families and the warm and comfortable life fabric we've woven around it. We don't want to mess it up. So, most of us spend time daydreaming and toying with a real but distant romantic fantasy land. 

It's agonizing, not being recognized as a woman. And by woman, I mean WOMAN, like with curves and stuff. It can make the best of us frumpy and bitter.

Oh I hear you over there blah blah blahing about how it's her husband's job to blah blah yawn. Look here, Mr. or Ms. Delusional, you're not going to tell me I'm wrong about these women, are you? How many copies did that damned 50 Shades book sell, anyway? Why? Because Mr. Husband is either busy with his own thing, has run out of ideas for keeping his missus interested, is bored with her, or has become boring to her simply by being old news. So, whatever it is, you're blabbering on about, just stop. I'm not interested in how things are supposed to be. I'm interested, at the moment, in how they are

I took an opportunity on New Year's Eve to get all dolled up and go out to hit the scene. I looked hot. I'd been secretly planning it for weeks. It would be a great exodus away from Momdom and into the world of womanhood. I wore sequins and glitter. I looked amazing. I felt amazing. I smelled, amazing.

Sheldon came along with me, but once I was about 3 drinks in, I ditched him in pursuit of more amusing company.  Social butterfly that I am, he's pretty used to that. I saw a couple of girlfriends, but they weren't winning my attention, either. I was on a conquest. I was searching for something in the eyes and smiles of drunken men. Recognition. Spark. Sexiness. I needed to find my sex appeal. I needed to feel alluring.

Shel frowned at the men who laughed at my witty charm and left shots in front of my bar stool, but I didn't care. I wasn't hurting anything by being sexy. In fact, it was grand. It was healthy. It was so good for me to be fluttering about outside of my miserable mom cocoon. Those feelings carried me all the way through New Year's Day and into the coming year. It propelled me into a re-dedication to health and beauty. I evaluated my dietary habits and thought of ways to firm up my buns before summer comes.

It was a great start to a new year, exactly what the doctor ordered.. until about 4:30pm on January 2nd, when the momness started to kick in, again. I am so sick of being over-looked. I do not want to get pulled back under the laundry pile for my fire to be snuffed out. I want to keep that feeling of being sexy and alive, a vibrant, shining flame of a woman.

What to do? What to do? Yep, being a mom really blows, sometimes.


  1. You go girl. I mean it. It's important to feel beautiful.

  2. Bubblez, maybe what we all need is one day a week, a month where we let our inner sexy out. Something to remind us of what we want...