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Guest Post- Mom’s New Stage

Keesha is my sister from another black mister. She and I go together like ebony and ivory. Okay, enough with the jokes. You get it. As different as we are on the outside, we have so much in common on the inside!

I got to see her for the first time in person at BlogHer and then I liked her even more.

When I read this post of hers back in January I knew I felt a connection. She had just posted on Scary Mommy’s website. Oh boy. I know just what she went through. People had a field day on her for her frank discussion about her husband. I’ve been there. I know.

So with that, I give you, her follow-up post to the Scary Mommy post that caused such a kerfluffle. Here’s where it begins:


I had a big thing happen this weekend — a guest post on Scary Mommy, one of the biggest mommy blogs on the Internet!  

Huge right?

Ka-bam!  I tried to be deferential, saying that I wasn’t talking about all men, and that many husbands, even fab dads, fell into some of the described categories.

Many, I’ll say most, moms saw both the humor and truth in the post.  A few dads were offended, but one softened after I replied to his comment explaining my position — that while some dads might be a bit inept, many moms were professional worriers. 

Still, a few folks, people standing on soapboxes with the Washington Monument up their you-know-whats — got really offended.  Great, now I’ve got two posts that have made people want to gather up a mob and chase me off the Interwebs!  One chick even said she would stop reading and following Scary Mommy because of little ol’ me! Thankfully Lady Scary Mommy comes to her guest bloggers’ defense and bade this gal good riddance, followed by, “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”  

Can I get an Amen!

Now some readers, when they see a post criticizing dads, sneer, “Oh that mom thinks her s–t don’t stank.”  

As if.  

Most women blog because they know they are far from perfect.  And anyone who knows me, knows that I could teach a graduate level course in self-deprecation.  

So that’s why I’m responding to one commenter’s suggestion/dare, to do a post called: 

10 Things About Me that Suck for My Partner.  Here goes:

1.  Hello, Mrs. Double Standards!
I’ll give him the eye for eating that ice cream with chocolate sauce.  Hello, Cholesterol issue? Do you want to be here for us in twenty years? Then I, the Root Canal Queen will go polish off a bag of a sleeping -bag’s worth of gummi bears.

2.  I change my mind more than a toddler.

Me: What movie should we see? The historical one.  We should see it because it will be up for an award. 

Him: Okay sounds good to me. 

Me: No, lets see the funny one.  I need a good laugh.

Him: I do too.  Okay, let’s see the funny one.

Me:  But, we’ll be bummed when we’ve seen nothing at award season.

Him: Okay, I’ll get tickets for the historical one.

Me (running in while he’s ordering tickets):  No, no, I’m feeling depressed – let’s just see the funny one. 

Him:  (#@$%!)  Grrrrrrrr

3.  The incredible blame-shifting woman.  

In the above scenario, if the funny movie sucks out loud, Hubs’s should have foreseen its suckiness and prevented me from changing my mind. Now we’ve thrown $20 bucks and 800 calories in popcorn into the crapper and it’s all his fault.  And, if he is anywhere nearby and I can’t find something — surely he put it somewhere!!  And when we are late, guess who was dilly-dallying?

4.  The Rollercoaster of Love (Ooo-ooo-ooh!).  
For two weeks a month I am on top of the world. Then for two weeks I careen between angsty teenage girl and Cruella deVil. It’s a wild ride.

5.  It’s my way or the highway.

There is one way to do things.  Just one. No room for interpretation when you fold shirts or load the dishwasher.  

6.  I fight dirty.

I curse a lot (I’m from NYC, what do you want from me?) and than includes little tiffs.  I can take a talk-it-out and turn it into something that would make Ol’ Dirty Bastard and three street hookers want to find a priest and go bathe themselves in religion.  

7.  The Human Cyclone. 

When I enter a room, I throw off shoes and sweaters, spraying them around the room like hot soup in a blender.  I open magazines I have no interest in.  Including financial ones that might as well be written in Sanskrit. 

8.  You work for me now buster…

With two little kids, the house might be a mess most of the time, but when company comes over, I go berserk.  I go buy a bunch of new decorating items, and order Hubbles around demanding that he convert trailer park squalor into an upscale sale-ready townhome on HGTV.

9.  So You Think You Can Dance, Mutha—-a?  

         Awkward dancing earns you anything from no reaction at all to a bemused smile to an outright grimace.  But… when I bust out all kinds of ridiculous moves — the running man, the cabbage patch, bad jazz dance party– I require enthusiastic belly laughs and fan worship.  I mean, I get paid to move, right?  Be grateful, whydontcha?!!

10.  The most impatient woman in the world.

When I ask for help with something, I mean now!  In a couple of minutes I could have done it myself.  And he will find that I have done just that, if he has waited too long.  

So there you have it Sr. M.  I met your little challenge. I aired my dirty laundry.  I may sound like I need meds, and maybe I do, but I’m also a person who’d do anything for her friends and family.  I’m smart and funny and when I decide to change out of my momiform I clean up real good. 

And, sir, you couldn’t handle me for five minutes.  
Thank you Keesha for helping me during this ding dang time of my one-handedness after finger surgery.
You can find more on Keesha here-
Before her two children re-choreographed her life, Keesha was a professional dancer who performed in the U.S. and in Europe. Today she is a modern and jazz dance teacher in the Chicago area. She is also the human cyclone behind the blog Mom’s New Stage. A multitasker at heart, she shows fierce skills at simultaneously writing, choreographing, checking Facebook and Pinterest updates, playing the role of a mother named Joan “Kumbaya” Crawford, and overcooking food. Her writing has been featured on the Huffington Post, BonbonBreak,, and recently in the bestselling anthologies I Just Want to Pee Alone and You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth. 


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  1. Keesha, this post makes me love you even more! My hubby KNOWS no one can fold a shirt or load a dishwasher as well as me. He tries just for the show of it, but never balks when I redo it. I love that you were willing to put all your “flaws” (which I do not see them as that) out here for us! xo

    And Frugie – LOVE all your guests! 😉

    • I think that shirt folding and dishwasher loading should somehow be incorporated into wedding vows. Because someone (cough- husbands) should obey how we want it done. Thanks for your sweet comment! Hugs!!!!

  2. Kathy, I knew exactly when I read this that Keesha and I are twins separated at birth.

  3. First of all, my new favorite word is ‘kerfuffle’. It’s brilliant and cute.

    Secondly, I. Love. This. Post. I’ve had a rough couple of days and this has convinced me to do my own list. I hope you don’t mind me copying the idea but I think it may actually be important for my family to know that I suck. A lot. And that I’m not afraid to admit it.

    • Teri! Glad you like it, and copy away. You won’t get into a kerfuffle here! This list is a fun one to do. And as Kathy says above, it’s our flaws that make us lovable!

  4. “for two weeks I careen between angsty teenage girl and Cruella deVil. It’s a wild ride.” OMG it’s me!!