Protective Wear When…Washing Dishes?

I’m really just talking about gloves. You know, those yellow, rubber gloves that Dexter’s mom always wears?

Yeah, those are the ones.

My fingers shrivel like a prune every time I do housework, but mostly the dishes. And not only do they shrivel, but they feel like styrofoam which gives me that nails-on-a-chalkboard feeling. Believe it or not, this is not the main reason I’ve been wearing gloves.
Let me tell you the story.

A few years ago, I was at Walmart with Tank, aka Goblin 6. He was two and decided that this day would be the grand entrance into terribleness. You know, the terrible twos? I thought he was going to escape the game but turns out, it was just beginning.



when we reached the register, he pulled stuff off the shelves. You know those shelves strategically placed there with their cursed temptations of Snickers and Twix and Hot Cheetos, where you pull out your wallet so you can count your money and realize at the last minute that you cannot go another moment without inhaling that junk? Yeah, those shelves.


Tank decided to play grabby and toss things from there. Then, when we got to the car, I bent down to grab something from the bottom of the cart when he grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls like he’s having a tug’o’war with She-Ra. So, yeah…that day was frustrating and overall terrible.

But the gloves story starts here:
We were walking through the candles and frames section where Tank got a hold of a candle and – surprise, surprise – dropped it. Instinctively, I tried to catch it but, alas, was too late. It shattered on the floor. So I kneel down to pick up the pieces and find my finger on my right hand dripping with blood. I’m talking literally dripping. I didn’t even know how I cut myself or when!

When I got home, I tried to get to work but the gash on my finger stuuung every time it came in contact with water.
“Oh!” I said, and hurried to my utility closet where I kept my gloves. After one-handedly digging through all the sponges and towels and light bulbs and stuff, I found the gloves and got to work. When I finished the dishes, I realized, HUZZAH! No styrofoam feeling!

Well, dur-hurr, Ma, why didna’ thinko’ this before!

Reasons for wearing protective gloves while washing dishes?
Let’s be real about this. There are quite a few others.

  1. No more shriveling fingers.
  2. Safety from knives. Whether the water in your sink is full of bubbles or murky from all the stuff you’ve washed so far in that session, there are knives at the bottom and if your luck is anywhere as bad as mine is, you’ll grab them by the blade. It’s kind of like bread landing on the buttered side…it just happens. All. The. Time.
  3. The quality and health of your nails. Water and soap matters. Your nails will soften/weaken over time and they’ll easily crack, peel, bend, etc. My nails are paper-thin already so the last thing I need is any additional damage to them.
  4. Washing with hot water. Everyone knows that washing with soap and hot water kills the most yuckiness. Of course, burning yourself is never a fun thing to do and if you wash with water half as hot as I do, burns are a promise.
  5. Save yourself the shuddering and gags. There is often yucky stuff floating around the sink and touching it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Soft, slimy noodles. Clumps of grease from your buttered pan. All those ooey, gooey not-so-yummies.
Are there any reasons not listed here that you wear gloves while doing the dishes? None shall be judged.
Until another day.
-Goblin Queen

If you have picky kids, you’ve had the unfortunate experience of cooking something they won’t touch. So, of course, that meal is stuck in a pot that’s been pushed to the back of the fridge and forgotten for a couple of days. No? Just me?

Well then, I’m sure there’s been other situations where you ended up with old food stuck to your cookware and you just can’t seem to get it off. Yes? Yes! I win!
I’ve been in this situation quite a few times. I’m not gonna lie. I have picky kids so I’ve lost a few meals to the back of the fridge a number of times. I cringe when I find them and realize I’m the mom and will be doing the cleaning, so I looked into some methods of gunk-removal. This seemed the most promising and…actually works!
  • 1/4 cup of baking soda.
  • Enough hydrogen peroxide to form a paste.
This consistency worked fine for me but thicker will work even more wonders!
VIOLA! A perfect paste for scrubbing your cookware!
OOOOoooo! Shiny!
(a picture would usually go here but I’ve only so much time when the tot doesn’t take real naps! Next time. I pinky promise.)

Create Your Own Sunshine


I’ve never been so utterly impressed with the universe until recently – until my world shifted and I gave up on my feelings.

Sometimes it takes a moment of pure despair and abandon to open 64852up to possibility. That’s a lot to take in, I suppose, coming from someone who’s as bubbly and positive as I am.

I’ve had my moments, too, y’know.

I’ve been brought down to the point of giving up on love and a “successful” future for me to really have my eyes opened. I had to get to the point of not wanting my heart anymore. No more feelings. No more love. No more expectation. Just toss it all aside and live as some semblance of a person with nothing but my children’s future ushering me forward.

Everything just hurt too much…

but instead of giving up like so many who turn to the noose do, I looked up at the sky and cried out to the Higher Being that I always believed was there – the one that I never questioned – and He answered…over…and over…and over again.

In my mind, I made the decision that life would be between me, God and my kids. Whatever heartbreak I just experienced would be my last. My dreams and aspirations would only be flashes of ideas in my mind when I closed my eyes at night… but that was going to be good enough, because I wouldn’t feel anything anymore. I would wake with a sense of peace because no one was going to ask anything of me that I couldn’t live up to. I’d go to sleep with peace because I’d know my babies are healthy and they could see their mama laughing and letting loose of all her stresses that made her the temperamental, cranky woman she so often was. In my mind, I would be alone but I would be happy. Life would be colder but I’d create my own sunshine.

But the universe had other ideas.

I suddenly had the sun on my back in the form of a best friend. I looked out my window whispered a prayer, and within a week, had a place to go. I looked at the grass on the side of the road, whispered a prayer, and I was blessed with multiple opportunities to make income. I looked up at the sky, whispered a prayer, and my children didn’t hate me for the decisions I had to make.

The universe was listening to me, and without actually doing anything, life fell into place all around me. I wasn’t alone, like I thought I would be – like so many had told me I would be. I wasn’t sitting in the dumps, so dirt-poor that I couldn’t feed my babies. I was able and willing to put my heart in the hands of one of the few people in my lifetime I came to fully trust…and it wasn’t shattered. I fulfilled one of my longest-kept dreams just this past week – I saw Glacier National Park.

It turns out the universe isn’t just some deep, dark thing in existence with planets and people and life. I believe it has a heart, a mind and a desire to help those who open their eyes to it – who regard it as a being rather than just the place we all exist.

Since I have regarded the universe in a different light, I’ve changed. I’ve grown to know fear so well that I’m no longer afraid of earthly consequence. I’ve known enough pain to be numb to any sting or burn that might touch me from the people who wish to tear me down. Whatever happens from here on out is moving me forward and up. But if it so happens that I fail at my second chance, I still can’t feel more fear or know more pain than I have in my life so far. That’s the mindset I think people need to find and settle on when they’re down in the dumps or uncertain of what’s to come. That’s the way of thinking that will keep anyone moving forward.