I recently learned that The Real Housewives of Dallas is set to premiere this year. Although I haven’t been keeping up with the franchise lately, I’m tempted to check out a few episodes, just in case someone I know makes an appearance. I caught a glimpse of the new Potomac series, and it only reinforced my belief: how can these women genuinely be called real housewives?
Now, don’t get me wrong—the cast is stunning and undeniably entertaining by TV standards. Yet, who can really relate to their glamorous lives? I certainly can’t. Even though I’ve been living the housewife role for over a decade, I don’t think I would make for compelling television.
Just imagine the disappointment if the crew showed up at my door and discovered:
- I don’t step out in ball gowns for casual outings.
- My rare lunch dates with fellow moms don’t end in chaos or drama.
- I’ve never donned enough fake hair to outfit a small tribe.
- I don’t escape on extravagant international trips with the girls every few weeks.
Instead, the cameras would capture me in scenes like these:
- Rocking my comfy Ohio U. sweats all day long.
- Standing at the sink, scrubbing dishes for hours without uttering a word.
- Cooking dinner with greasy handprints on my sweats because I’ve never owned an apron.
- My husband and I enjoying one date night per season at a restaurant within shouting distance from home followed by a thrilling trip to Walmart—errand runs without the kids are pure bliss.
- Hot gluing limbs on Transformers, legs on Ninja Turtles, and heads on Skylanders for a solid 12 minutes of my day.
- Belting out Coldplay songs in the car at the top of my lungs.
- Yelling “Stop screaming!” at an ear-piercing volume at least once a week, likely causing an eye vessel to burst.
- Making lunches—yes, still in sweats.
- Spending hours in front of the computer in silence, trying to earn a living.
- Shuttling kids to and from school, again with Coldplay blasting in the background.
- Wiping butts. So. Many. Wipes.
- Experiencing glamorous, romantic nights filled with changing pee sheets, crafting bedtime stories, and watching Teen Titans Go! with a toddler while my husband snores nearby.
- Baking cakes and cookies daily, claiming they’re for the kids, but let’s be real—it’s for me.
- Starving myself until 5 p.m., then indulging in cake and wine while tackling laundry until dawn.
So there you go, Bravo. This is my official audition video. When you’re ready to bring the Real back into Real Housewives, I’m all set for my close-up.
For more on parenting and related topics, check out this insightful article about home insemination. For tips on enhancing fertility, Make a Mom is a fantastic resource. And if you’re expecting, you won’t want to miss March of Dimes’ weekly pregnancy guide.
In summary, while I may not fit the mold of a traditional housewife, my life is filled with the relatable chaos of motherhood. Who needs glitz and glam when you have a world of genuine experiences at home?