Thursday, May 14, 2015

6 reasons being pregnant sucked ass


I hated being pregnant.  Everything about it irked the shit out of me. All of the “old hat” moms told me that pregnancy was great. They told me I would love the feeling of my baby growing inside me and that it would be the happiest time of my life.  Those bitches lied. I just barely lived through the side effects of being with child.  It totally sucked ass.  Here's 6 reasons why:

1. During pregnancy (and after) my face looked like a tomato turned inside out (complete with seeds) and ready to explode. The pregnancy glow that I’d heard everyone talk about – it didn’t happen. I never had any glow unless glowing like the rings off the planet mars counts. When I say I was red, I mean that shit.  My skin was bright red like a shiny new sports car and blotchy too. There wasn’t enough make-up to cover the disaster that erupted on my face. I just went with it and blamed it on the kid. Figured if I started blaming her for stuff right off the bat, she’d be used to it by the time she popped out.
2. My feet hurt. They didn’t hurt a little. They hurt like I was lifting boulders with them. From the very second they hit the floor, they hurt. They hurt all day while I worked, and all night while I was doing all-the-things to prep for my new bundle of snatch monkey. I was carrying a baby – in my belly. It was growing by the second in my hugely bloated stomach. Why in the hell did my feet hurt so badly? They were always swollen and I had, gulp, kankles. Fat, ouch-y feet and swollen ankles were not in my pregnancy plan.
3. Caffeine, the lack of. I was that mom who quit everything that was considered “bad” for my new bundle of joy during pregnancy. This meant I consumed no caffeine. For 10 damn months. No caffeine also meant that I was impatient, rude, bitchy, and fairly completely intolerable. It also meant I had a headache – every fucking day. My addiction to caffeine was real and the headaches were more real.
4. I had to hide all the time. I was hiding because I was told by my husband, my doctor, my friends, other mothers, the neighbors, and every other damn person I came in contact with that I shouldn’t do this or I shouldn’t do that.  Screw that.  I did whatever the hell I wanted.  I just hid whilst doing it.  Painting the kitchen, painting the nursery, resurfacing the kitchen cabinets, getting my hair and nails did, were all things that had to be done.  I was pregnant, not dying. Get the hell out of my way…pregnant bitch coming through! I was also hiding from the advice givers. If I heard one more uppity bitch tell me about the best "this" to buy, where to get the perfect "that", or what the best time to do something was - a motherfucker was going to get jackslapped. My hiding protected a slew of phony, know-it-all-ass-hats from being punched in the neck but it wasn’t my idea of a rocking good time.
5. I had no morning sickness. That may sound like a good thing but I’m here to say, it wasn’t.  No crackers, no soda water, no clinging to the toilet drenched in my own sweat each morning. No smells that made me want to squeeze my nose-holes with a clothespin or a giant set of needle-nosed pliers. I got none of it. No morning sickness meant that I could eat everything that would fit through the giant opening in my face. I gained 90lbs. That's right - 90.  A little dab of morning sickness could have cut that number in half.  Damn pregnancy.
6. The peeing. I would be remiss if I failed to mention the excessive amount of urine that escaped my bladder on the daily. The peeing interrupted work, bedtime, television time, dinner time, sexy time (have you ever tried to be sexy while crossing your legs and doing Kegels simultaneously?) and just time in general. The walks from my office to the bathroom down the hall took up the better part of my 9 hour work day.  I never slept because every time I tried, I had to pee. Even when I didn’t have to pee, I felt like I had to pee. It wasn’t the –regular old I have to pee- feeling. It was the- I have to get up right this very second and haul my bloated pregnant ass to the bathroom before I have urine streaming down my leg-feeling.  And yes, it happened.  The peeing down my leg.  It happened so many times I can't even lie about it.

Before I wrap up this ever pleasant post, I would like to add that there actually were two (just two) things I enjoyed about being preggers - the shopping for all the much needed, super cute baby stuff and mostly the absence of my monthly uterus explosion.  Oh, and that snatch monkey that shot out of my vagina at the end of 10 months; she’s okay too.

One last thing: for those of you wondering why the fuck I didn't mention the lack of alcohol?  I didn't drink then.  I mean like once a year, I had a cocktail or 2.  I didn't have kids yet, assholes.  That's when the drinking started. Duh.

Cheers to you enjoying your pregnancy.

PPB aka The Precious Princess - The Princess is a twice divorced, recently dumped, recently unemployed, self-proclaimed member of the mentally hilarious. She has been referred to as living under a rock stocked with vodka and anger. Her 12 year old “Mini”, who is carbon copy of the Princess, is often the subject of blogs, and Facebook posts. In addition, she writes about dating, the dumbness of boys, life after 40, and shares stories from Bananaland which is both her past and current residence. She is the owner/sole admin for the Facebook page Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland where she is famous for her rants and her blunt, honest, and sarcastic look at life. She blogs both extremely funny and all-the-feels posts at Princess Bananaland. She hates people, kids, and karaoke. She uses all the swears and makes up dirty words. Eventually when she’s done being sloth-like, she will write a book.  Until she changes her mind. Be afraid. 




Saturday, May 9, 2015

My Perfect Mother's Day Dream


I know everybody has their own dream about the "Perfect Mother's Day.  I have mine too.  It's awesome.  It would have to go down a little bit like this:

1.  My mother would not get drunk, hug me, cry and tell say "this is the best Mother's Day ever".  Mostly, our Mother's Day celebrations suck.  Really.  They do.  It could be because we're there, but I doubt it.  I'm awesome.  Maybe it's her.
2.  My little sister would NOT send my mother the most bestest, most expensivest gift ever because she can and make me look like a jackwagon.  Which I am, but I don't need to be reminded.  Just cause' she lives far away doesn't mean she can upstage me all the time.  Right?
3.  The Mini would refrain from watching "Pokemon" for the ENTIRE day.  Or SpongeBob or any other tv show I deem stupid or loud.  Because in all honesty?  These shows give me cramps. 
4.  I would not receive yet another "Mom" charm for a non-existent chain.  Like really, I haven't owned a chain since I was in High School and I have like 6 of these charms and I can't even sell them or pawn them or anything. Maybe I  can make a charm bracelet?  Maybe?
5.  There would be no yelling, hitting, crying or whining.  From everyone else.  I would be exempt from this rule.  (It's MY dream, fuck off)
6.  I would get to pick what we do on Mother's Day.  HUGE.  I've never done it. NE-VER. My Mother ALWAYS gets to pick.  ALWAYS.  And, there would be no damn day trips to the Springs cause I can't stand the Springs and all the yucky wildlife and the ice cold water that freezes my vag to the point of soreness.  A frozen vag?  No good.  None whatsoever.
7.  ALL parental decisions, punishments, issues and whatnot?  Handled by someone else - Grandma.  Or a neighbor.  Or a hobo.  Or anybody.  Just not me.  ONE day to not think?  I'm good at this dreaming shit.
8.  Mother's Day would be on Saturday.  Sunday holidays are bullshit.  We deserve a Saturday.
9.  There would be a caramel vodka fountain and I would have the ONLY glass.
10. There would be pizza from Chicago delivered to my spot on the beach.  Yes, the beach. 
11. I would be allowed to watch my favorite shows all day and NOBODY would be allowed to interrupt.  NOBODY.  Unless, of course, I summonsed them because I needed something.  Cause' that would be totally different.  Totally.
12.  There would be clean floors everywhere.  There wouldn't be any itty bitty pieces of paper, lint, brownie, rabbit turds, chocolate candy, sandwich crumbs, pieces of ramen noodles (OMG, those piss me off, fucking ramen) or any other pieces of ANYTHING.  ANYWHERE. 
13.  I would NOT walk into any room for the entire day and have to say "what the fuck happened in here"? (It's MY dream, stop it)
14.  There would be cake.  With ice cream.  Because I like it.  That's why.
15.  A full body massage and plenty of back scratching throughout the day.
16.  And there would a magical fairy godmother who would come at the end of the day and blink her eyes or wriggle her nose or do whatever dealio is fashionable these days and make everything all perfectly clean.  I'd rather not have to clean up all the shit from super duper Perfect Mother's Day Dream.  Cause that would suck.  A lot.

I'll settle for this.  Really.



PPB aka The Precious Princess - The Princess is a twice divorced, recently dumped, recently unemployed, self-proclaimed member of the mentally hilarious. She has been referred to as living under a rock stocked with vodka and anger. Her 12 year old “Mini”, who is carbon copy of the Princess, is often the subject of blogs, and Facebook posts. In addition, she writes about dating, the dumbness of boys, life after 40, and shares stories from Bananaland which is both her past and current residence. She is the owner/sole admin for the Facebook page Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland where she is famous for her rants and her blunt, honest, and sarcastic look at life. She blogs both extremely funny and all-the-feels posts at Princess Bananaland. She hates people, kids, and karaoke. She uses all the swears and makes up dirty words. Eventually when she’s done being sloth-like, she will write a book. Be afraid.