As a fan of reality TV, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if I, a very ordinary mom, were to join the cast of The Real Housewives. I recently learned that The Real Housewives of Dallas is set to premiere. While I haven’t followed the franchise in a while, I might tune in to see if anyone I know is featured—though I doubt it. I caught an episode of the new series in Potomac, and it struck me once again: how can these women genuinely be called real housewives?
Now, don’t mistake my words for criticism. The cast members are undeniably glamorous and make for entertaining television. However, I find it hard to relate. I’ve been living the housewife life for over a decade now, and I can’t fathom what a camera crew would capture in my home.
Picture their reaction when they realize:
- I never step out in a ball gown.
- My rare lunch outings with fellow moms lack any drama—no hair-pulling or drink-throwing here.
- I don’t own nearly enough fake hair to cover even one person.
- I hardly ever jet off on extravagant girls’ getaways.
Instead, viewers would find me in these relatable scenes:
- Sporting my Ohio U. sweats all day long.
- Spending hours at the sink washing dishes without saying a word to anyone.
- Cooking dinner while sporting two greasy handprints on my sweats, since I’ve never owned an apron.
- My husband and I enjoying one date night each season at a restaurant within earshot of our house, followed by a thrilling trip to Walmart—because running errands sans kids is pure bliss.
- Hot gluing limbs on Transformers, legs on Ninja Turtles, and heads on Skylanders for a solid chunk of the day.
- Singing along to Coldplay in the car as if I were at a concert.
- Yelling “Stop screaming!” loudly enough to almost burst a blood vessel at least once a week.
- Preparing lunches, yes, still in my sweats.
- Sitting at my computer in silence for hours, trying to make a living.
- Driving kids to and from school, accompanied by more loud Coldplay.
- Wiping bottoms—so much wiping!
- Engaging in glamorous nights filled with changing pee sheets, crafting bedtime stories, and watching Teen Titans Go! with my toddler while my husband snores.
- Baking cakes and cookies every day, claiming they’re for the kids, but let’s be honest—it’s really for me.
- Starving until 5 p.m. only to indulge in cake and wine while tackling the laundry until dawn.
So here’s my official audition for Bravo. When you’re ready to bring back the “real” in Real Housewives, I’m ready for my close-up.
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In summary, my version of The Real Housewives would be a candid depiction of the everyday life of a mom, filled with relatable chaos and humor that most can understand—even if it lacks the glitz and glamour of reality TV.