at first, i did not fit in with the girls.
why?
in all fairness, they haven't said but i think it was the "age" and the "laura ingalls factor". i am old and i am not pierced or tattooed. i know my children's dad's and i have an education and i was working for money, not for friendships. i wanted the extra money for the "button" to have at college. now, it is attorney money.
anyway, i learned a ton about cleaning ladies.
here goes.
1. they are obsessed with lingerie. talk about being a "fish out of water." it is cheaper for me to buy four steel belted tires than it is to buy four good bras to hold these "girls" up. if you know me, then you know how important that the girls are held up instead of looking at the ground. seriously, i am still wearing maternity underwear and she is eight. never have i been in a victoria's secret and i am pretty sure that there isn't a cup size in there to hold one up let alone two and i haven't seen my stomach or rib cage since fourth grade. chicks who can give me the willies so i am NOT shopping there. victoria secret will be the sponsor when "bitches, bleach and bras" makes it on bravo. when we all sit on the couch for the reunion show, skinny chicks with angel wings will come out and make the girls stop fighting.
3. Moms are moms. It doesn't matter how many "anchors" you have in your skin, or how tattooed your skin is or how old you are, a good mom is a good mom. the one lady i work with "j" is so dedicated to her grandchildren that i truly wonder if those kids will ever know what she sacrifices for them. the other girl ( and she is young) calls her daughter all day long and texts her photos while she is working. but today, it really hit me...i heard "a" talking about her next three paychecks and where those paychecks were going...one for her son's birthday present, one for tax free weekend and school clothes, the next for school supplies. and then "m" chimed in, one for the new baby to buy diapers, one for her daughters school supplies and so on. until you are a mom, you have no idea what women do for their kids.
i always said i would never visit one of my kids in "summer camp. " my knuckles have touched his through the glass. it was never about me, it was about him.
years ago, my friend was broke. it was christmas time. both girls asked for american girl dolls. she didn't have the money. she saw "mock" dolls at her local drug store but she knew her girls would know. i offered to pay for the american girl dolls at about one hundred dollar per doll. she declined, " i will make it happen". and guess what, she did. the girls got the dolls. i know my mom did the same.
and fellows, don't be mad but seriously, if you were in charge, would it have happened? no and no offense but it wouldn't.
that is why "bitches, bleach and bras" should rule the world.
we would be clean. all countries
we would plan ahead, waaaaaaay ahead. we would know "hey tansania, need some help over the holidays? we need some cheap jam for teacher gifts and if you send some over, we can send folks at summer camp to pick up your trash" or "yo, chick, your underwear is not matching your thong or your shoes, he is not feeling you at the meeting". "change your under garments and he will feel you". or better yet, " i have three paychecks to pay my monthly bills, have extra for school supplies and to a little to put toward the national debt". doesn't that sound like a good idea? if most of these uneducated, bleach spraying, coupon clipping and bra matching chicks get it, why can't our governments?
but, more importantly, when one of the very soft spoken young girls found out about :"summer camp", she said to me, "sucks when bad things happen to good people".
sucks that bleach cannot erase the stain in my heart. sucks that no cleaner in the world erases the whole in my heart and how much i miss my son.
sucks that this isn't just a can of spilled picked beets. it is real life.
the good news is, the person helping to wipe it up is a mom. and if there is one thing i have learned, a true mom is AWESOME and clean up just about any mess. count me in.
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