diamonds – Mother, Inc

love bites

What men really want

May 28, 2009

The husband sent me this pic with a giant header that says “This has to appear in your blog”, so I’ve decided to be all nice and obliging since Superdad has been saving my ass the whole of this week. And who doesn’t just LOVE a life-sized remote control with all the buttons for dudes to control women.

I’m all done with my bra-burning days, so hello, Stepford Mom.

I love that all the needs of a man can be filtered down to 3 simple words – sex, food and beer (in that order). All the others are inconsequential.

Take work for example. The whole point of working is to earn a bunch of dough so that they can buy food and beer and a fancypants sports car, which will lead to some smoking hot sex in the sports car. Or outside the sports car so the fancy upholstery wouldn’t be all ruined which would mean the end of all future prospective hot sex, cos the only sex they’ll be getting with a crummy, beat-up junk is from a toothless transvestite who just had a hair transplant.

And married men (especially fathers) need the remote more than their bachelor friends, since their only hope of having any food or hot sex (forget the beer) is if they cleaned up the house, fed the kids, bought some diamonds, gave me a bubble bath and a nice massage, by which time I’d be sleeping like a baby, except on good days where I’m not pregnant, or having PMS or feeling too fat.

I say it’s tough to be a dude. Problem is, most guys who don’t get the sex end up eating more food and guzzling down more beer to try to fill that giant void in their lives. But then they (i’m still referring to men here) end up looking like they’re 7 months pregnant and that also eliminates all hope they have for getting any sex in the foreseeable future. Vicious cycle.

Men are, in fact, the weaker sex. Hey, read the news.

So take it from a chick. It’s far easier to do the housework and run the bubble bath. At least there’s a chance (however slim) it might just be your lucky day.

by Daphne

motherhood

Happy Mother’s Day!

May 8, 2009

It’s finally mother’s day this Sunday. A time to celebrate moms and their supreme awesomeness.

I feel like it’s been a long time coming. I haven’t even been a mom for a whole year and it seems like I’ve been waiting endlessly for my first real mother’s day. I’d like to say that the rewards of motherhood are sufficient to make up for everything, but if you ask me, I’m desperately in need of some pampering and something wrapped up in a bow.

I’m expecting to wake up at 11 am to a sumptuous breakfast in bed and a little blue box with something sparkly inside. Tru will be all fed, changed and ready for his morning nap. After getting smothered with hugs and kisses, I’ll be whisked off for a manicure and a massage, followed by a relaxing bath of goat’s milk.

No diapers, no laundry, no food-slinging and certainly no screaming or whining.

Even then, it’s hardly a fair exchange. A day off to relax at a spa and some diamonds is not fair trade for 364 days of hair-pulling and hemorrhoids. But I’ll take it because it says “you deserve it cos are the most amazing human being on the face of this earth”.

Having recently been admitted to the elite club reserved only for the brave souls who dared to venture into the world of motherhood, it feels different being on the other side, as it were. Like most experiences, you need to be in it to fully comprehend what it really means. I used to hear moms talk about all their mothery stuff and I can try to look sympathetic, but it doesn’t really sink in.

But now, I GET IT. They can talk about 6-hour screaming fits and I totally understand. When Tru was sick and couldn’t fall asleep, I was holding him for 6 hours straight till I was sure my arms weren’t there anymore. I hear about nappy rash and projectile vomiting and I’ve literally been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, took the photo.

It’s like how doctors have their Hippocratic Oath. Mothers also have a code of conduct that they swear to keep the moment the kid pops. In summary, it goes like this. “I shall henceforth cease to exist as a free-spirited individual and place my kids over and above my own needs for the next 18 years. In short, I will become Mother Teresa.”

Only on Mother’s Day, we get a moment of brief respite. To sit back and bask in the adoration and gratitude. So to all the mothers out there, MILK IT FOR ALL IT’S WORTH because it’s over all too soon. Savor every moment and have a brilliant day.

by Daphne