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I’ll pass on the carrots.

*This is really gross.

As long as I’ve been with my husband, 19 years, he always has a big bowl of baby carrots whenever we have pizza.

Fine, no biggie, right?

CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, motherfucking CRUNCH!

It’s one of those teeny tiny relationship things that doesn’t seem like a big deal but drives me up the wall after all of these years. Crunch, crunch, crunch is what I hear for what feels like forever.

While we were having pizza the other night, the hummingbird was chewing a carrot and started gagging. The closest thing to me was the big bowl of carrots, filled to the brim.

Gross Alert… she puked in the carrot bowl.

After she finished, my first thought was YES, there go the carrots!!

Yay, I didn’t have to hear that carrot crunch for once!

Thank you, my pukey 4 year-old. Thank you.

*Somewhat Damaged

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My husband hates me.

caillou

Over the holidays, I was looking throughout our DVR list and noticed that my husband had recorded Caillou’s Holiday Movie. My first thought was “are you fucking kidding me??” because the hummingbird has been losing interest in that little shit, Caillou, for a while and is obsessed with Peppa Pig.

I can’t stand that whiny little fuck as evidenced in I’m just a kid who’s 4. Each day I whine some more. I torture parents. I’m Caillou., and Bill the squirrel vs. Caillou.

I deleted the movie and my butthead hubby recorded it again. I begged and pleaded my case, ahem… even with a promise of a bj, but nothing worked.

During one day on the holiday break, I was going nuts with Peppa Pig and had a temporary case of insanity when I asked the little hummingbird if she would like to see Caillou.

“No, mommy. I don’t like Caillou.”

MUSIC TO MY FUCKING EARS!!! WOO HOO!!!

A few days later, I walked downstairs one morning to find the hubby and hummingbird cuddled up on the couch… awww… watching that freaking Caillou Holiday Movie… nooooo.

Since then, that damn movie has been watched countless times in the past 2 weeks.

Oh lawdy, help me!!

My 4 year-old’s love of Caillou has returned.

Oh lawdy, help me!!

The husband is going back to work next week, which is a good thing because we’ve been driving each other kinda crazy these past few days.

I’ve already told the hubby that I plan on not ever letting the baby bird know of that little whiny shit, Caillou.

When work starts back for him and preschool is back in session, I predict that the DVR is going to “accidentally” erase that damn Caillou movie, never to be seen again… until next year when my hubby will likely record it.

Butthead.

Which children’s shows drive you out of your mind?

*Far Behind

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In-Law Apocalypse

Lock the doors!

Board the windows!

Run for cover!

Bend over and kiss your ass goodbye!

It’s the In-Law Apocalypse!!!!

My FIL kept on telling us about his Medicare policy and then seemed to forget he told us because he would then tell us all over again. Also his laugh, oh dear god, he laughs like Marty McFly’s dad, George, from Back To The Future. The in-laws are devoid of humor but anything my husband says makes them go into hysterics. I really don’t get it.

My MIL was her usual bitchy self and mostly I would give a long fuckyoubitchthisisnotyourhousesofuckoff sigh with whatever bitchy thing she said.

I found the best way to deal with them was by directing my attention somewhere else.

So, every time my father-in-law would try to give me one of his long ass lectures about who the hell cares what, I would either pretend I wasn’t hearing him and then walk off or say “oh, that’s nice” and tell my husband something so it would zip up the guy.

What I just don’t fucking get with the in-laws is that they’ve already invited themselves for their next visit.

Ummm, NO!

They want to be here for weeks with the baby bird.

That’s something I was talking to my therapist about, a wonderful woman, and she has me learning about “mindfulness“.

She told me there’s absolutely no reason I should feel guilty about letting the in-laws know that they don’t need to be here for weeks and that I need to think about what’s best for me… without feeling like such a bitch.

Yes!

This is what I’ve needed to hear for years. I always think I’m depriving my husband of time with his parents and then I feel a lot of guilt but like Dr. Mindful says, I need to put our best interests first and not be run by the in-laws.

Every time the in-laws visit, it puts me under incredible stress, ha… like you couldn’t tell… and I really don’t want them here right after the baby bird is born. I really want to have the 4 of us to get in the groove first and bond, not have the in-laws here from the get go. They will be so much more of a hinderance to us than a help anyway.

Sure, I can deal with them being here (okay, not really) for a few days (nope), but fuck me backwards, not for weeks. I’m still baffled by how freaking oblivious my in-laws are when it comes to… everything! Personal space, boundaries, being assholes, you get my point.

So, thanks to Dr. Mindful, I’m starting to figure out how to say no, especially to the visits with the lecture man and the bitchy mcbitchster.

*Bathwater

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Signs that you need a date night.

10. You get a bad dye job at a new salon and your husband never noticed that you looked like Bozo the Clown. And no, he wasn’t just being nice.

9. You go to bed at 7:30 pm because your pregnant ass can’t stay awake.

8. While watching a film on movie night, he’s on the iPad while you’re catching up on the lastest celebrity gossip on your phone.

7. You can’t remember the last time you and your husband had an actual conversation that didn’t involve your kids.

6. You’d rather be on Pinterest.

5. You consider changing from your pajama pants into your yoga pants the equivelant of wearing an Oscar gown.

4. Going to the grocery store together while your kid is in school is the most romantic thing you’ve done all year.

3. When getting it on with your husband, you wonder if you’ll be done in time to watch Top Chef before bed.

2. You are developing a very special relationship with pumpkin peanut butter cups left over from Halloween.

1. When he asks you to go out on a date and see a movie, you immediately search and browse your television guide for something you’ll both like. Then he has to repeat himself and emphasize that he actually means getting out of the house for a date. You will then feel like you just won the lottery because you haven’t been out on a full-fledged date in 7 and 1/2 months but it’s not like you’re counting or anything. You start planning on what you’re going to wear but feel a tiny bit bummed that you’ll have to get out of your cotten pajama pants and wear something with a zipper. But woo hoo, you’re having a date night.

*Who Knew

**Don’t forget to enter the MarieBelle chocolate giveaway if you haven’t already.

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I just want a f*cking shower.

psycho11

I would think the weekends would be the perfect time to get a nice shower in but nope. Not only do I have my 4 year-old to contend with, there’s my husband as well.

I try to sneak into the bathroom and almost every time, I’m busted.

My daughter’s usual response is “DON’T TAKE A SHOWER! PLAY WITH ME!!!!! Followed by a little tantrum and some kind of move that involves her down on the carpet, scooting around.

What. The. Fuck?

It’s one of those “Is this really happening???” moments followed by me thinking I’ve been drugged with acid. It’s just a damn shower!

I’ll tell her that I’m smelly and will feel much better if I take a shower, and then after we’ll play as much as she wants. Ummm, yeah, that doesn’t work, ever.

My husband is around most weekends but when I try to get some assistance from him, it’s like he falls off the fucking face of the earth. Where does he go? What is he doing? Does he have a shower radar and he makes himself vaporize when I try to take a shower? Does he slip off into another dimension? Is it the Twilight Zone? Where the fuck does he go? I JUST WANT A SHOWER!

He appears eventually and is met with bitchy wife.

That catches him off guard because by the time I find him, I’m so fed up with being stinky, dirty, and dealing with the hummingbird that my voice goes supersonic and he can’t understand a word I’m saying to him.

Then he replies with “You haven’t taken a shower yet?” and my voice gets so high and squeaky, I’m sure even dogs can’t understand me.

Last weekend was a perfect example.

It was already dark by the time I was in the shower and right before I got in, my 4 year-old walks in the door and tells me she’ll wait for me to be done. Okay, fine, no privacy, no problem, I’m used to it.

Then my 2 cats wander in and sit there in the bathroom. Followed by 4,804,567 questions by my daughter. I’m trying to answers as best as I can while I try to figure out why the tub isn’t draining but filling up with water instead.

Mommy, will you be done soon? Mommy… mommy… mommy?

By this time, the water was up to my ankles and I kept on flipping the shower thingy knob off and on but I couldn’t figure out if it was draining the water.

I had shampoo in my hair that was dripping and burning my eyes, the 20,000,000 question girl waiting for me, and a shower that was quickly becoming a bath.

That’s when my husband finally reappeared out of thin air and walked into the bathroom.

How many people and pets can fit into my bathroom? Maybe I should invite the neighbors and have a party.

The hubby hears me messing with the shower thingy and with my patience thin because OH MY GOD, I JUST WANT A FUCKING 5 MINUTE SHOWER IN PEACE, he asks why I’m trying to take a bath when it’s getting so late.

OUT. EVERYBODY OUT OF THE BATHROOM! PLEASE! OUT!

The hubby: Oh, did you want a few minutes?

YES!

Okay.

ARGGGHHH!

Maybe 20 years from now, I’ll be able to take a nice, hot, 5 minute shower in peace.

I doubt it but maybe.

*Counting Stars

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Oh My God. We Can’t Eat Here! What? You Want Me To Sit In The Car?! Oh, Hell No!

My husband took us out to eat to celebrate the baby and I made the mistake of telling him I’m in the mood for anything. But when it comes to being pregnant, I can be craving something one minute and the next minute it’s the most digusting thing ever.

I know it drives my husband mad but he tries to keep quiet. You know, because of my insane pregnancy hormones that I’m pretty sure scares him a lot.

I was really hoping we would go to a Mexican restaurant but it never occured to me to just tell him because hello, I totally expect him to read my mind… even though he never has… but I’m a woman so there you go.

We were on our way to dinner and when we pulled up to the restaurant, I thought ruh roh. There was a picture of a lobster on the sign.

Oh fuck. please don’t be a seafood place.

We walk in, yep it’s a seafood place. I start gagging because of the smell. But I think to myself that my husband wanted to take me out to have a nice dinner with the hummingbird and tried to gag and dry heave quietly.

That didn’t work.

While we were waiting for a table, I was standing there with my hand over my nose and mouth, trying not to breathe in the really nasty smell of fish. Because of my hypersensitive pregnancy nose, that didn’t work very well either.

Fuuuuck.

I knew I had to get out of there but we had already ordered drinks. So I suggested to my husband that I’ll just wait in the car, fully expecting him to say no way and that he’s fine with leaving.

Hahaha.

After I told him I don’t mind sitting in the car to wait, he said okay.

Okay? Okay??? You want your dry heaving, gagging, pregnant, starving wife to wait in the fucking car while you have dinner???

But I just said “well, maybe we can just cancel our order and go somewhere else”. There were a few tense moments but after a few more dry heaves, he was pretty sure I would be getting sick very soon if we didn’t get the hell out of there.

So, he paid for our drinks, got them in to go cups, and after wanting to scratch each other’s eyes out when it came to deciding where we should go to eat next, (he just wanted to go home but damn it, he was supposed to be taking us out to celebrate the baby!!!! haha!) we settled on a Mexican place and I ate my weight in queso dip and tortilla chips.

It ended up being a pretty decent night after all. And nobody died.

*When I’m Gone

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A week? The in-laws will be here a whole f*cking week?!

My in-laws were supposed to come visit us in Maine this month but now that’s changed. Instead, they’ll be coming here for Thanksgiving… for a whole fucking week. OH DEAR GOD NOOOO!

I guess one thing I’ll have on my side is crazy pregnancy hormones. But still….

OH DEAR GOD NOOO!

What’s even worse is since I’m knocked up, there’s no xanax or vodka to get me through this visit.

OH DEAR GOD NOOO!

I can barely handle having them visit us for 2-3 days and that’s even when they stay at a hotel. This time they’ll be at our house the whole damn time.

Since the filter between my brain and mouth lessens when I’m pregnant, I say I should embrace the fuck out of that and if needed, say whatever the hell I want when they’re annoying the shit out of me.

My MIL has a stick permanently stuck in her ass and it only became worse after I had the little hummingbird. Who knows how much worse it will be now that I have another baby bird baking in the oven.

Believe it or not, I’ve shown as much respect to her as I could for years and years. I always say as little as possible when they’ve visited over the years. I’m not the sassy smart ass that I may come off ass in real like. Okay, I am, but I have to warm up to people before I show that side.

With the in-laws though, I learned early on from my husband that the less you say to them, the better.

But my MIL doesn’t let me off that easy. She knows how to make innocent chit chat and then when I start letting my guard down, her claws come out like Wolverine. Better yet, Freddy Kreuger.

Fuuuuuck.

Vodka, how you will be missed.

*Maps

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