The For Real Houswives of.....

Ok, I just need to say that Kim Richards is WAY understood.

That's right, I'm blogging about the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I just feel so bad for her! I think Kyle is kind of a bitch, but everybody loves Kyle.

Kim was right about Taylor in New York. And Taylor often provokes her and says ridiculous stuff to her, like how she's going to fight her. That's not really ok.

Kyle is too narcissistic to even notice when Kim is sticking up for her. And I don't think Kyle has to babysit her at all. I think Kim has just been hurt a lot. I mean, she seems just super insecure and guarded and I think that's because of pain in her past. Not because she's a weak person. Kyle needs to get over herself and treat her sister with the respect she deserves and stop putting herself on a a pedestal for "taking care" of her sister.

Can you tell I'm blogging while I'm watching the finale?

Haha. Ok, I just needed to share my opinion with somebody. Anybody!

Also, they are drinking this chilled bottle of Rose and I actually am finding myself drooling. Literally mouth is watering for a glass!

And then I remembered, UM. I can drink now! Woot. Woot.

So Zach, who is out bowling, (Um, yes I did say bowling. Practice bowling... because he's on a Bowling League! Haha. He used to do soccer leagues. And now? Bowling!)

Ok, just kidding. He still does soccer leagues. And I was technically supposed to be on the Bowling League too. But the whole, just had a baby thing, got in the way. We were doing it with another couple, well he still is but now with his other, other half, Nate. Plus it's a league for losers. Literally, The league is for people who can't bowl. I think bumpers are an actual option! Haha. Anyways, next time. They even make you your own bowling ball! Who wouldn't want to do that???

But that wasn't good enough for Zach. He asked for Bowling Gift Certificates for his birthday so he could get a fancy ball, and fancy shoes. And a fancy bag.

PS He just texted me to tell me how much he loved his new equipment!

I love that man.

Anyways, where was I.

Oh, he just got the text to stop for wine on the way home.

He better deliver.

Just Kidding! Kind of.....

Oh, my little baby has the hiccups! Or as the girls call them, the "Hiccemups." Adorable I know.

And my girls are in their room being naughty. Again. Again. And. Again.

Oh my.

I don't know how I ever made a living as a nanny. Seriously. At this moment in my life, I can't imagine anyone paying me to raise their children! And I was like a High Demand Nanny. Before my own kids, I worked like 70 hour work weeks and kept four families! With a total of fifteen children. Ok, that's a lot of kids to raise.

And now I can't even handle my two. I mean, I have three, but the little one's only had a week of me, and so far him and I are making it work.

Oh my gosh, he is the sweetest thing. I say that while he is cuddled in my arms, sleeping sweetly and making the cutest little newborn noises and the girls scream for me at the top of their lungs, Scarlett rattles her crib from the other room and I just heard a super loud banging sound.....

Oh boy.

Ok, so fast forward to real time an hour later. Kids are finally asleep. And the Finale of Real Housewives Beverly Hills is over.

I might have cried through the last thirty minutes of it. Ok. Balled. I balled through it!

They have these beautiful lives (Like physical lives. Like their houses and clothes and looks and all that.), but they are completely miserable and sad. Like really, really sad. And sad to watch.

They make me sad.

How can people with so much, live such meaningless and unhappy lives? I mean I know how. Money don't buy you love. Or happiness. Or security. Or self worth. Or confidence. Or any of the important attributes.

It can buy you nice cars and houses and clothes and surgeries though. However, that apparently isn't enough.

Ok, obviously these are all things that I have known for a while. I wouldn't trade any amount of money if that meant giving up the happiness and confidence I have in my marriage and life.

But what is sad, is to see it played out on TV over and over again. It's one thing to follow the drama of caddy girls, yelling at each other over party faux pas' and misunderstandings; its an entirely different thing to watch marriages crumble, sisters betray each other and women look for self worth in trying not to age and buying themselves presents.

So, that's the reason I'm claiming I watch those shows. To remind myself that I enjoy poverty because that means I'm surrounded and reminded of the things that are really important daily.

I'll take struggling pay check to pay check as long as it means I trust my husband one million billion per cent and look forward to him coming home every night.

I'll clip coupons and buy dollar shirts from Old Navy as long as it means I can keep my family close and raise my own children without the help of four nannies, two house managers, and countless cleaning staff and cooks.

I'll write budgets and stick to them as if my life depended on them, poring over financials daily to make sure I stay true to those little buggers if it means I am a confident, well adjusted, happy with the impossible, plus-size barbie proportions my latest pregnancy landed me with. (Seriously. I can't handle these boobs. I can't. They are out of control.)

That's not really where I intended to go with all of that. All I wanted to say was that I get Kim and I just feel bad for her because I feel like she just doesn't express herself verbally very well.

I getchya Kim. Even if you are an alcoholic.


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