Donna Reed I Am Not

I jokingly call Sister Donna Reed.  Or Martha Stewart.  If you were to tour our houses, or take notes on our parenting styles, you would quickly realize that while she may be a domestic goddess, I am far, far from it.

For your amusement, I have compiled The Top Ten Reasons I Am Not Donna Reed.

10.  I allow my son to feed the dog from his high chair, including having his fingers licked by the dog, and continue to eat.  I figure that the dog licks him on the face/mouth all the time so what's the difference.

9 . I never vacuum.  But we have 4 very furry furbabies.  Solution: Put P in fleece clothing and allow him to roll around.  This tends to get the worst of the hairballs out of the way.  While allowing him to do this, I have to make sure he doesn't eat too many of said hairballs.  It's protein, right?

8.  My son has fallen off places he probably shouldn't have been.  Because I neglect to realize how mobile he is.  When I was his age I fell out a 1st floor window onto concrete.  I never let him near windows.  But the couch?  Absolutely.

7.  I understand the concept of dusting.  My version involves looking at the shelves, thinking "ewww" and then sitting back down.  Because honestly, I'd rather blog or tweet.

6.  Dirty laundry is in one pile.  Clean laundry is typically in the hampers awaiting some miraculous afternoon that allows me to put it all away.  Which isn't going to happen.  Sometimes clean laundry is in a pile, too.  A separate pile.  This is what happens when you have to use a laundromat and so save up weeks worth of clothing.  I think I was a man in another life.

5.  I am fairly certain that Donna Reed does not have a pile of coats in the corner of her living room.  Blocking the access to the DVD shelf...that has never been dusted.

4.  I can't remember the real words to "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" because Seamus Kennedy did a version called "Old MacDonald's Deformed Farm" and it is forever the version that I know.  Which means that in all liklehood, it is the version P will learn.  It is totally acceptable to teach him a song about a drug dealing duck, right?

3.  Speaking of appropriate, P has a teething toy that looks like a really fun vibrator.  I entertained thoughts of figuring out how to make it one.  But then I thought that it wouldn't be fair to him to have to share his teether with Mama.

2.  There is a very good chance that P's first word will be "fuck".  Or "butthead".

And the #1 reason I am NOT Donna Reed is...

1.  We have one set of winter flannel sheets.  We have no washer or dryer.  We cosleep.  This leads to leaks.  In the bed.  I am utterly guilty of spraying said leak spot with febreeze, tossing a towel on top of it, and going back to bed.  Repeatedly.  Until it's laundry day.  Talk about Real Housewives of *insert county name here*.

I will definitely not be getting any Good Housekeeping awards.  But I'm fairly certain my kid will not be afraid to get dirty, make a mess, or generally be a kid.