Category: Here and there

There comes a time in every person’s life when they begin to live with someone. Or in my case, my entire life, since I’ve never lived alone. Of all the time I’ve had to observe roommates (and don’t forget I have ten siblings), never have I come across one quite like… The Husband.

Episode 1: 

Me: “I can’t believe how much I’ve swollen! And it’s not even through the first trimester yet, just wait till my milk comes in, holy cow!”

Husband: “Time to make the cookies!”

Me: “…you do know this milk isn’t for you…right?”

Husband: “…”

Episode 2:

Me: *Man, every time I put the cutting block knives in the dishwasher, they end up in the sink…this is so weird… I’m the only one in the kitchen…hmm.*

The next day.

Me: * What the hell?! I put all the knvives in the dishwasher and RAN it LAST NIGHT! HOW did they get in the sink??…Omg…..gnomes…..*

The next day.

Me: * I know they are out to get me, but I will win…I will cleverly bait them with a knife in the dish washer and hide behind the couch till they come out, then I will stab them with this knife! Mauahahh!*

The day after that.

I hid in anticipation, fearing for my life. If gnomes had infested my kitchen…who knows what ELSE lives in there? I gripped my knife. Then suddenly I heard…*thump thump thump*

Me: *OMG! This is it! Here they come!*

Crazed from the stress of defending myself with the butcher knife, adrenaline pounding in my veins, I pounced.

Me: “AHA!!!!! I HAVE YOU NOW YOU WORTHLESS KNIFE STEALING RODENT!!!!! PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DEATH!!!!”

Husband: “HOLY $%&#*!!!!! Put that knife down!!!!!!”

Turns out, the chop block knives aren’t suppose to be dish-washed. So, husband was carefully making sure they never got cleaned in there by putting them back into the sink. He didn’t want to sound “like a jerk” by simply telling me they were not supposed to be dish-washed.

Episode 3: Sleeping Part 1.

Sleeping with Husband is always interesting. It got much MORE interesting when he started a new job and consequently got much more stressed. Oh, and we also have very different sleep schedules.

2 AM ( Hubs has been asleep approximately four hours).

Me: *Aww… Hubs looks so cute sleeping! Poor honey-poo in all stressed…. I know, I’ll be a great wifey-poo and snuggle him. He will love that.*

I slowly slipped my icicle foot (okay, the snuggling wasn’t JUST for Hubs) onto his side of the bed and began search for his foot. Finding his whole leg instead, I ran my freezing foot down the length of his warm leg.

Me: * Ahh!!! Bliss…what the!*

Husband: Leaping out of bed, throwing off the covers, yelled at the top of his lungs, “THERE IS SOMETHING IN THE BED! DON’T MOVE! IT JUST RAN DOWN MY LEG!!! HOLD ON I’LL KILL IT!”

Now I had two choices here…I was sorely tempted to react as well and thereby deflecting any guilt:

Me: “OH MY GOSH!!! OH BABE KILL IT!!! EWWWW!!! SAVE ME!!!!”

What REALLY happened..

Me: ” OH NO!!! I’M SORRY!!!! IT WAS MY FOOT!!!”

Husband: ” What?”

Me: “I was trying to snuggle you! Did you like it?”

Husband: “…”

Episode 4: Sleeping Part 2. 

There have been several times when I try and snuggle Husband. Mostly, because I know he likes it, and also because I get really cold at night. Since we have such different sleeping schedules, I’m awake much later than he is. Which means when I snuggle him, he is deep into his REM.

Me: *Aww… Hubs is so cute… I’ll just put my arm over him, that won’t wake him up…I’m such a good snuggling wife.*

The next day.

Husband: “I had THE WORST dream last night! I was just chillin’ and then this FAT and HAIRY DUDE, like, just NASTY babe, came up and PUT HIS ARM on ME!!! UGH! It was the worst…”

Me:  “…”

Some people know everything there is to know about being pregnant…and some don’t. If you fall into the latter category, don’t worry, you are in good company. Here’s to illuminating those details that, for some reason, are mysteriously forgotten when we all get “The Talk”.

After all, honesty is the best policy, eh?

1. No matter what type of illness you may have ever had before, hospitalization, mono, broken limbs, etc., being pregnant will blow your mind out of the water. I’m not talking about birth, but the agony a woman experiences while pregnant. I’ve thrown up before, you know, we all have. But regular throwing up brings a sort of relief to the pain you are feeling. Pregnant throwing up is nothing like this. You will vomit until you have nothing left to retch up… literally I think some of my stomach wall has come up before.

2. “Morning sickness” is grossly misnamed. Let’s try, “All Day Puke Fest”, “Uncontrollable Vomiting All Hours of the Day” and “What You Used To Love About Food…You Now Loathe”. If you’re like me, you’ll find yourself hoping you will just starve to death so you can stop throwing up. This is usually at the point you can feel your spine through your abdomen.

3. Sleep is no longer useful. You can sleep all day but be just as exhausted as you were after you ran your local triathlon. And get used to it, because you will be a zombie for the next nine months. The best way to describe it is being a growing teenage boy again, but having mono and the flu at the same time and tape worms. Kind of. But since you get up at least three or four times a night to pee it’s a little different.

4. Your bladder will shrink to half it’s size. For some reason they don’t put that on the pregnancy test box. “Side Effects Include: Your life flashing before your eyes, bladder shrinkage, and general life reevaluation.”

5. You may not be showing, but to you, you might as well be wallowing in the ocean with the rest of your kind.

6. Even if you were in phenomenal shape before, you will be huffing and puffing walking across a room. And you don’t even have a belly yet to blame it on.

7. Even if you never drank before, you will miss alcohol. A lot. But you can’t talk about how you do or you will get nasty glares from people, “She obviously doesn’t care about her baby”, “Doesn’t she know what she signed up for?” …”Well, no. I didn’t asshole. Now get me a martini.”

8. Those pretty little feet and ankles you have now resemble elephant legs. And I mean, the leathery, fat, log-like legs, yes.

9. People will say your hair and skin will look beautiful during pregnancy. Here’s the two things they DON’T mention about that: Your hair will look beautiful if you can keep all your prenatal vitamins down and if you remember to take them everyday. Either you will throw them up or you will forget. Oh, and all that great hair falls out after the kid comes out anyways. On a totally vain note, does your hair and skin really matter when you feel like a blimp and everyone avoids you anyways because of your “mood swings” ?

10. Although this sounds terrible, you’d rather stay in this stage of vomit-zombie-whalrus because the idea of having a small creature crawl out of your lady parts horrifies crap outta you.

 

So there you have it. That’s what you can REALLY expect the first few months of pregnancy. Come to think of it, there is a market out there for honesty being the best way to keep lil’ Suzy off the street.  CHEERS!

Comics – The Oatmeal.

Hyperbole and a Half.

Being one of eleven sure has it’s advantages: I’m not always the one in trouble, siblings are always a source of entertainment, and you never get bored.

I remember being in college and my mom called me up with the weekly news. This week strongly featured my brother Anselm, the seventh child and most creative kid I’ve ever met.

Anselm loves projects. He loves playing with things, drawing things, but most of all, Anselm loves BUILDING things. Being very set on the idea of obtaining a pet fish, and being the seventh child, he knew how to get the job done.

First; ask Mom.

“Mom can we get a fish?”

“Maybe, but not right now, it’s nap time so I have to put the girls down.”

“I would take care of the fish, I promise.”

“Okay, well we’ll see.”

Second; prove to Mom you know what you are doing.

“We’ll see”?
This was clearly a test.  Why yes, we shall see…challenge accepted, Mom. Determined to show Mom that he was capable of caring for an animal, Anselm set about creating a home for the fish. He knew he wanted the fish in his and his brothers room, that way he could keep a close eye on it. Where was somewhere that would hold water, and be IN his room….He knew fish needed water and lots of room to grow. So, with much excitement at the prospect of gaining a new friend, he set about unloading his wooden chest of drawers of all his clothes. Now, for the water…

How does Mom always get lots of water? Well, the hose for one…but the hose wont reach here…hmm…a pitcher! YES! That will work.

Gripping a gallon pitcher full of water and hauling it twelve steps provided much more of a challenge than Anselm expected, his six year old arms shook with exertion…but the prize was to great to give up now.

Creeping quietly past Mom’s room where she and the babies were sleeping, he carried pitcher, after pitcher, after pitcher, until finally, all of his drawers were filled to the brim.

Ecstatic over the new fish home he had created, Anselm went about decorating the sopping drawers in order to create a more realistic environment for the beloved fish. He dumped in a good amount of dirt (everyone knows lakes have dirt on the bottom) and grass (to supplement for seaweed, of course) and rocks, the bigger the better!

Anselm sighed contentedly.. and fish would be thrilled to have such a palace to live in, each drawer providing a new adventure, and plenty of room for growth! “Mom will be so impressed…why are my feet so cold?”

Looking down, Anselm noticed that the carpet in his room was wet…soaking wet and spreading….the water was leaking from the fish’s new home!!!

Devastated, he began wildly searching for a way to clean up the mess before Mom woke up, it was only a matter of minutes before she would wake and start making her rounds, making sure no one died in the past hour.

Pelting downstairs, Anselm ran for the rag bucket, grabbed an armful, and ran back upstairs in order to soak up the mess. By then the dirt had started to seep out of the corner, the rags had no chance against the dirt. He only succeeded in smearing the muddy mixture into the carpet more.

Panicing, his mind raced…what cleans carpet?! Suddenly, the answer came to him. Running down the twelve steps again, he grabbed the vacuum and slowly tried to drag it up the stairs. Being six and grossly out weighed by the vacuum, this process took quite a bit of time.

Finally, the vacuum was in his room, plugged in and the hose was out. Anselm had seen his siblings do this  many times, all you did was place the hose on the dirt, and it would vanish!

Grasping the end on the hose, he flipped the switch and desperately tried sucking up the mud and grass that was quickly forming a swamp around the room. It didn’t work on the mud very well. He turned his attention to the drawers that still had water in them, plunging the hose into the water, hoping it would suck it all up into the oblivion of the vacuum bag.

The vacuum coughed and sputtered before completely dying, choking on bits of mud and gravel.

The silence was overwhelming.

Sitting on the floor in a puddle, the prospect of a life with no fish was quietly settling on him…life was over. He, Anselm, would never have a fish…

…And then the bedroom door opened….

 

Welcome to my new digs. This is where I will be posting from now on. A new post is coming soon. STAY TUNED!