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Home for Wayward Mothers
By Rachael Brownell |
May 21, 2008
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Read more: relaxation, rugrat reprieve, rachael brownell
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Some signs that you might be becoming a wayward mother:
- You laugh in derision at everything your partner suggests about childcare, politics, or anything.
- The thought of running away somewhere with a young Italian manny begins to seem highly likely
- Your kids are somewhat less rewarding than you’d hoped they’d be.
- When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is a glum “another day.. another diaper, another gross living room, another [fill in the blank using Eyeore voice].
Or perhaps you’re simply down about childrearing… Babies are cute, you reckon, but who knew they’d stick around for so long?? Or maybe your partner’s idea of foreplay asking what’s for dinner and then grabbing your ass? It could be that your outer beauty is getting squished underneath some fluffy older babe who took the younger babe’s place. Or perhaps you stare inappropriately and grunt at hot men and then shake your head vigorously to clear away all thoughts of what you’d do to him if you weren’t driving a mini-van full of yelling children?
If you answered yes to any or all of these questions, then you are welcome anytime at the Home for Wayward Mothers, where your time is free, the beds are made, and no one ever ever asks you to find their socks.
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The Home for Wayward mothers is a special imaginary place that is just for you. It won’t be imaginary once venture capital funding is secured, but until then, please join me on a little fantasy vacation just for us girls (and the very skillful men who worship them).
Here at HWM, all the sheets are 300 count Egyptian cotton, fresh flowers are placed by your bedside each evening, and you can choose from a long menu of free optional services exactly to your liking.
The only requirement is for you to leave your worries at the door. Free loving childcare is provided way way off site at no charge to you and your husband has been given a list of chores that must be completed upon your return. And he won’t ask you a thing about what you did while you were away…
Not sure yet? Check out this menu of potential classroom activities, many of which are available one-on-one with the “teacher” of your choosing.
- You are So Beautiful – In this class, you’ll be seated in front of a room of love slaves (gender of your choosing), who will lavish you with verbal praise and observations about your youthful appearance and obvious character strengths.
- No Not Like That – Here we find the wayward mother enjoying a one-on-one experience with her very teachable and open to input professional friend (choose from one of the following: gardener hunk, barista, lawyer man, teacher, traffic cop, private dancer) who will help mama loosen up. And no need to worry about hurting his feelings. He loves it when you tell him what to do.
- What Can I Do Better? – In this class, you are invited to list your household and general life grievances. Your audience will be attentive and take notes while you line out what needs to change and how. They will nod and validate each and every one of your concerns with statements such as “I can’t believe you’ve put up with this for so long!” and “It makes perfect sense that you feel this way!”
But in addition to these wonderful learning opportunities, the Home for Wayward Mothers will give you unlimited access to world class massage therapists, estheticians, and sensual care professionals all trained to answer your every request and meet your every need, in any way they can. No questions asked.
Each evening you’ll be able to choose from one of the following escapades:
- Waterfall encounter – The lights are dim. Your tankini is flattering. You meet him near the waterfall (which is as warm as his muscular chest)
- Ballroom Gallantry – Where you dance away the evening in your dreamy chiffon gown and your comfortable but sexy high heels, while he leads you around the floor and treats you like a princess.
- The One Who Got Away – In this adventure, the One Who Got Away reappears just as you remember him. No receding hairline, or wife, or kids. Just him in his tight jeans and hunky t-shirt. And he tells you how he misses you and how you haven’t changed a bit.
If any of these outings or opportunities sound appealing, I hope you’ll join me sometime soon at the Home for Wayward Mothers.
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Rachael Brownell is formerly the writer of CrankMama, now writing at Redsy. Rachael writes and edits for Babble. She is a snark- and love-filled mother of a grillion daughters, and wife to 1 tired but loving husband. She lives in Bellingham, WA and is attempting to rid the world of parental exhaustion, one reprieve at a time.
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