This is my profane humor blog exploring the unique frustrations and embarrassments of pregnancy, parenting, and marriage. I'm pretty sure I was crazy before I got pregnant, now it's full-blown hormonal madness. This is Pregnancy Part 2: Revenge of the Unborn. I also have a 6yo daughter, two cats and a dog.
Life is never dull.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

What's wrong with a ninja baby?

This isn't a real post, but I'm sore from all this endless expanding baby wants to do, and people were so amused by my machete story that I should probably talk about the swords now.

First, background. My house has plenty of SPACE for all of us, it's just an odd design. The two largest bedrooms are upstairs, along with the main living area and kitchen and a bathroom. We have two more bedrooms downstairs, but they're completely isolated from the other two. Thus, we're going to be sharing rooms with the baby since the six year old is a bit too young to live in the basement by herself.

So I posted this photo last weekend...
Just finished making room in the bedroom for baby!
It should be obvious, the crib's going between the bookshelf (looming shadow) and the end table, and then I can make some space on the shelves for baby stuff. 

The first response I got: "You're putting the baby under the swords?"

Dude, the swords are like 6 ft off the ground. If the baby COULD reach the swords he'd have to be some kind of ninja, and after all, they ARE ninja swords, so if the baby just somehow FLEW up, climbing the wall parkour style, grabbed a sword, and then landed, I'd be like "See, it was your destiny. Congrats, the swords are yours."

Apparently people were worried about the swords FALLING. Well, THAT is simply not an issue, besides the fact that I live no where near any sort of earthquake zone, that rack is really solid. It came as a table display, and with some brackets, bolts, a level and some straps,  those things are SECURE. It was one of those things my husband demanded when it came to displaying swords in a home with a six year old. (Seriously, you are all paranoid.)

I mentioned people's comments to Hubby.

Me: "People don't like the idea of the swords hanging above the baby."
Him: "Huh. Spoilsports."
Me: "Seriously! Besides, it could be like some subconscious motivational tool."
Him: "How's that?"
Me: "Our child could grow up to be a ninja! He or she KICKS hard enough. With the swords there it would be like, 'Look to your destiny! Someday, if you are worthy, the swords shall be yours!' "

Him: "Is there a job market for ninjas?"
Me: "You know... I have no idea. At least I'm not making the baby a mobile out of W2's and subconsciously urging the baby to be a TAX ACCOUNTANT. That would be weird."
Him: "Most definitely."

In an unrelated note, my highly creative daughter has a half dozen imaginary brothers and sisters. Two of them are ninjas. She tells me about how they leap from tree to tree, and ride on the roof of our car. They also go to ninja school, and were 'born to be ninjas'. 

Even the six year old has a concrete understanding of ninjas. Trust me, you don't want to stand between a ninja and his/her destiny.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Conversations with Pets

This isn't a long post, but I felt bad about not writing for a while... And then I got maimed this morning in a TOTALLY FUNNY WAY... So thus, blog.

CAT: My toe is hurt. LOOK AT ME!
ME: Kinda busy.
CAT: WHY DON'T YOU CARE? I'm going to lick my toe to show you just how hurt it is.
ME: FFS. You're TOE got wrenched after you dug ALL YOUR CLAWS into MY LEG and launched off my lap, then one claw got snagged in my pants.
CAT: You wear pants just to TORTURE ME.
ME: I'M THE ONE BLEEDING! That's why I'm over here with the disinfectant!
CAT: You don't CARE. You are a horrible human being.

DOG: Hey guys?
DOG: Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to let you know I just puked.
DOG: Don't worry though. You don't have to clean it up.
ME: ......
DOG:  I got hungry after so I cleaned it up.
ME: I should have just got goldfish.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

UPDATED! People say you shouldn't arm pregnant women. I say it's more dangerous to make them arm themselves.

So I was struggling to think of something hilarious to blog about, I decided to rely on my tweets from last Thursday, so if you follow my twitter, you may have heard this one.

Basically, it started late at night, when I lay trying to sleep, while my brain did cartwheels and backhand-springs and decided to think of EVERYTHING that I did not possibly need to think of when trying to sleep. The result was I started thinking about the massive pine near my front lawn. This tree has been a -problem- for years. It sits there, with its branches all long and unkempt, two branches try to hit the house when the wind blows, and the central branch sticks out across the lawn right at eye level, so when mowing or feeding you get a face full of pine.
The PROBLEM is that this tree is one INCH over the property line. Technically, that means it isn't ours. TECHNICALLY that means we have to ask the aging reclusive neighbors (who I believe MUST be vampires) to cut the branch. This does not please me.
So while I lay there, my brain treated me to a nirvana vision of how beautiful the lawn would look if I hacked off the three offending branches, how I'd be free to walk beneath the tree without bodily injury, how I could set out a bird bath, and the sun would shine, and the roses would bloom, and everything would be PERFECT.
It makes perfect sense. The branches must DIE.

This focus did not abate in the morning.

Tweet: "I want a laser scalpel that can cut tree branches. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?"

The internet failed to instantly provide me with laser weapons, so I started googling chainsaws, and arguing with Hubby, who was home that day.

Tweet: "Don't you think I DESERVE a chain saw? Your pregnant wife needs a chain saw!" "My pregnant wife, with the chainsaw, in the conservatory."
I swear it's like he DOESN'T UNDERSTAND the IMPORTANCE of cutting these branches. THEY ARE MOCKING ME.
When he realized I was serious, he became surprisingly adamant about NOT buying a chainsaw. He said it was too expensive. (Twitter said he was afraid. Twitter also said he was wise not to arm me. TWITTER LIES.)
But with the endless persistence of a woman ON A MISSION I convinced him to go to the hardware store. To find a more 'cost effective solution'.


It was the machete or a handsaw. Have I mentioned I love SWORDS? And I have some? And I always WANTED a machete? We got a machete, and an early dinner, then we came home for a nap... Despite the fact that I wanted to DECLARE WAR ON TREES.
I couldn't sleep, but Hubby did. Which may not have been in his best interest.

Steve takes pity on my husbands sanity. Why does everyone think Hubby is so sane? HE married ME. I think that speaks for itself.
But Hubby was a good sport. Which led to a photo op.

I do not look like a crazy person.
And this:

Tweet: dude. Tree branches are hard to saw through. In other news I'm covered in sawdust.

I started with a small branch... AND WAS VICTORIOUS. But the big branch is STILL there. It's too big for the machete, and too high for me to want to spend an HOUR sawing away at it. So we've come back to this:

Tweet: Hubby says I can't BUY a chainsaw, but I can BORROW one. WHO WANTS TO LOAN ME ONE?

Thus far, the internet has not obliged me.

It's Thursday, one week since I got my machete. I had three trees that needed pruning. The Big branch, my nemesis, the driveway-bitch (a bow that makes a point of hitting me in the face when I walk past the car. EVERY SINGLE TIME), and the Dog Tree, who's branches grab at my hair every time I take the dog to her spot to pee.

THE DRIVEWAY-BITCH IS DEAD! With sawing of my machete, and sheer brute force, I have declared VICTORY over that branch. For added measure I killed a dozen small dead branches on the BIG Tree, (where the big branch must die), and a moderately thick dead branch I sawed off.

My Victim... or Trophy.
So YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED TREES! Mess with me, and I'm COMING for you.
I am the slayer of trees.