So of course I ripped off his head and devoured it.

HAHAHAHA!!!! That tactic also works when your husband whines because you won’t go out to eat with him and the kids (knowing you’re on WW by the way) then has the gall to tell you your ass is fat. Hubby’s head is probably very low in points now that I think about it…

Loved your comment about the dog poo…reminds me of the other day when I was yelling at my husband not to get them wet when he was watering the tree because that would make them smell again! LOL Here’s to feeling better soon.

As a man, I can say that I will hear your advice and allow it to pass through my ear, into my brain where it will gestate for a few seconds, and then quickly be dumped back out into the open air while I think, “Hahah, women get pregnant. I am so glad to be the superior gender, what with the lack of pregnancy and larger brains.” =P

I hear you 100%. I am a little further along than you are on pregnancy #2 and am tired + hungry + bitchy all the blooming time. I yelled at my 18 month old today and feel like crap but I just!could not!take it!! My brat goes to bed at 9pm up by 6am, to boot.

The worst is when a guy says something completely stupid and then has the gall to be appalled that you are offended.

My husband (who, all stupidity aside, is actually very good at the pregnancy thing) told me that my breasts were perfect BEFORE pregnancy. “How are they NOW?” I asked. He said, “Well.. they’re pregnant boobs.”

Needless to say, he hasn’t seen them since.

The time multiple between the hours of 4 and 8 pm is approximately 1 miiiiillion.

If my kid pulled this I would have to seriously consider some kind of dome with artificial sundown. I NEED THAT HOUR!

I had my first back in January and she’s awesome…but we’ve vowed not to do the #2 baby thing until she’s out of her terrible twos. Riley’s making me tired and I’m not even pregnant again, yet! And also…dog poo…re-smell…sucks!!

Dude, I wish someone had told me that no one gives two shits about the second pregnancy. All the people that told me to take it easy the first round were all like “so what if you are puking all day and ass tired, we don’t care.”

Just wait for all the folks that unashamedly asked you when you were going to have #2 start saying “This is your last one right?” People can be such assholes.

The fact that JB is not completely dead, and is only missing his head, is a testament to your willpower. I suggest you ask JB to go get carsick for 15 weeks straight and then ask him his (new) opinion on the whine factor.

I hope you get to feeling better soon, and I wish you many chocolate mints until then.

The Navy did a study and found the kids actually suck energy from adults. When my brother’s wifes got pregnant I told them to memorize this statement and use often…
“I’m sorry, yes dear, of course dear, how could I have been so wrong.”
I learned with the first pregnancy that even if you are right, you are wrong.

I don’t feel so freakish now about my flat beautiful tummy in the morning to be followed by a huge honkin’ beer gut by night! I’m 12 weeks so luckily I’m not sporting the Sea Bands any more. Good luck!

A few weeks ago, at 36 weeks pregnant, I said to my husband that my feet hurt. And he said, “yeah, I know. I have to hear about it every damn day.” WHOA! He was in the dog house for a good 3 days after that.

Look ladies. We fellas actually make a huge effort not to say offensive things to you. We water down and candy coat almost every comment we gingerly slide in your delicate direction. You are just so GD emotionally fragile that you can’t comprehend how we talk to each other (man folk) all day every day. So seriously, from the heart, and with all my love to your gender: would all of you stop whining. If you knew half the shit we put up with just from our guy friends, it would make your beautiful heads explode. So try and understand that we aren’t like you. We don’t get offended easily or often. We are trying to speak at you in a way that won’t get our heads ripped off and devoured. Just take a frickin chill pill and know that we don’t understand why you keep crying about everything. Honestly. This is why we don’t want a woman for prez. Chew on that.

Hmmm… I’m pregnant and hormonal too and I don’t like that comment “Josh” just made. Somebody has some misplaced anger issues towards women!

Also, the dog poop part of your post was funny and oh so true! Don’t get it wet and “deactivate” it for God’s sake!

Oh crap. I meant “reactivate”. Stupid pregnancy brain.

Oh so true! My oldest was 18mos when I was deliriously tired during my second pregnancy. I’d gate off his room and lay on his bed to nap while “watching” him play with the millions of toys in his room, but my eyes would barely be closed when he’d be on top of me, jumping and clawing at me. Normally he wouldn’t care if I was in the room, but because I was so painfully exhausted, I was the funnest toy around. Must be some kind of radar they have!

Ouch, Josh, touche! And I agree to an extent. My hubby’s best friend is a football coach & if someone talked to me like he talks to those kids, I’d probably cry. But I don’t think that should exclude the possibility of a woman for prez. I know some easily offended men as well.

I was going to comment that my husband’s headless body could get together with your’s, since he told me I now have a “mommy body”. Thanks, sweetie. That makes me feel oh-so pretty!

Toddlers can’t resist mommy trampolines. At least in my experience. :)

I can’t imagine being in the first trimester while having to take care of a toddler. Hang in there. At least you are still funnier than hell. I am dying from amusement, between the dog poop freshness scale and JB’s headless body. (What a useful icon that could be around the house for the next 7-12 months.)

P.S. Maybe a Josh’s headless (or brainless or relationship-less) body icon would be better. A picture IS worth a thousand words.

Sundry – I’ve been reading since Beermates – first time to comment.

Josh, way to be! Next time when you’re wondering why you’re lonely remember what you wrote today.
It’s pretty simple really… women are different than men. But don’t ever make the mistake of believing they’re weaker.

The Dobby Dobby reminds me of the sword that my nephew got from some obviously child-free friends of my sister (what parent in the world would give a two year old a sword, even a plastic one?) He and the sword were inseparable for several months, and if you asked him what it was he would say, in his own little toddlerese, “Thassa my yohrd!”

My husband asked how long we thought he would carry the sword around and show it to everyone. I said I was pretty sure that boys always want to show their swords to someone. Someday it will make him very popular with the ladies.

Look who’s whining now, Josh.

Sometime during my 17th hour of labor, my husband whined that his chair wasn’t comfortable and somebody needed to fix it. I swear that the voice I used to tell him what I thought of his statement came straight from Satan. My MIL, who happened to be in for a quick visit since nothing damn was happening, smartly removed him from the premises for a while.

Ah that takes me back to when I was about 14 weeks pregnant, wondering if I would ever stop barfing and feeling like I was incapable of doing anything but lying on the couch and my husband chose that time to tell me “sometimes you just have to suck it up.” He’s probably only still living because I was too exhausted to actually kill him and the thought of raising a child alone was pretty unappealing. This was over four years ago and I still haven’t forgotten the hot flame of rage that surged through me. He’s been a great dad and husband, but he came very close to not being either.

Bitching because your husband didn’t pick up on your body language and offer you a foot massage because you thought you were doing a fabulous job of telegraphing the fact that you wanted one? That might warrant a Josh-ish reaction. However, tearing off your husband’s head because he called you a whiner when you were unhappy about pregnancy-and-toddler-chasing discomfort? Completely rational. I mean, there’s “not as delicately sensitive as women”, and then there’s “I CAVEMAN. WHY THINK BEFORE TALK? MAKE NO SENSE.” The first is completely excusable in my book, and I don’t like it when my girlfriends bitch about it. The second — not that JB’s comment was to quite that level — is not.

Your dog poo comment cracked me up.

It totally stinks how everyone pays so much attention to you with your first pregnancy, but with the second one they couldn’t care less. Nobody wants to hear about it, and nobody wants to help you…. right when you could really use the help since YOU HAVE A TODDLER!

I am sure that that was far more nutritious than the tin of mints…or the salad even… For dinner tonight, might I suggest Josh’s head.

My husband said when the pg test for our second came back positive, “Another nine months of whingeing”. He still has his head because he was also suitably excited and ecstatic about there being another baby at the end of it. But if he ever told me I was whining when I was exhausted and cranky from chasing his toddler daughter around the place while simultaneously gestating his foetus, not to mention wrangling his ten year old step-daughter, he would definitely be wearing a pumpkin out of the house from that moment on. Geez.

My husband recently commented (about my pregnancy queasiness) that last time, “you seemed to get a much better handle on it.” Oh, ok, I guess it’s my fault that I’m chasing a two-year-old while working full-time, gestating another human being AND am starving and nauseous and tired all the time. Grrr! And generally he’s a great guy.

holy shit. considering just about every guy i know turns into the world’s biggest fucking BABY when they get a COLD…they sure are good at pointing out when we are whining for apparently no god damn reason. they can’t handle FARTING without telling you about it, i’d like to see them manage 9 months of nausea, hunger, bloating, swelling, stretchmarks, exhaustion, hormonal mood swings, constipation and hemorrhoids, and manage not to fucking WHINE about it.

Apparently the Benadryl dart idea is not okay. Who knew?
http://www.democratandchronicle.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070712/NEWS01/707120374

Reading you lately is even more entertaining because I was just pregnant a year ago (with my third) and you bring me right back to the craziness.

:)

OK, get in line to flame me . . . but I thought the “Mars & Venue” book had an interesting point on this. The author’s wife is home from the hospital with their newborn. She’s in pain from the episiotomy. Author’s brother was tasked with picking up her pain meds from the pharmacy but dropped the ball. Wife is complaining of her pain from teh episiotomy. Author tries to duck out of the room. She says to him, “John Gray, you are a fair-weather friend.”

He realized it was true: he *was* a fair-wearther friend. He didn’t want to be around his wife when she was complaining. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. When he looked closer at why he reacted the way he did, he realized that her complaining made him feel criticized or belittled — like “I’m in pain, why aren’t you doing something about it? Why can’t you fix this?”

Of course, that was not her intention AT ALL. She was not criticizing him because his brother forgot to get her meds from the pharmacy. She just wanted someone to care about her and support her in her discomfort.

I think that men really are hard-wired to solve things, and women are hard-wired to connect. So when we talk about pain that men can’t solve, they don’t know what to do. They feel inadequate. They don’t understand that we just want them to hold our hands and say “Gee honey, that really sucks, I’m sorry you’re hurting right now.”

To us it feels like we’re asking for SO LITTLE. How hard could it be to offer some freaking sympathy for god’s sake? To them we sound like infernal ceaseless piercing shrieks of misery who are out to emasculate them.

Sorry, I meant the “Mars & Venus” book (“Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.”)

…but the big question: when you devoured JB’s head, did it help the nausea or did it make it worse? You might be onto something here.

The only worthwhile thing about John Gray is that when he speaks he sounds like Bob the Tomato from ‘Veggie Tales’ and it’s fun to laugh at him. Okay, so that’s a bit mean, of course it’s not the only worthwhile thing, but seriously the “Mars and Venus” books, imo, do tend towards the simplistic and the cop-outty sometimes. I don’t buy it, either.

I hope you feel better soon, Linda :).

Oh, Sundry, embrace the one nap per day. It is good. It goes from two short naps a day to one, deliciously long nap per day. Three to four hours, my friend.

Whining=part of growing another human. So, whine away, my friend. I commiserate with your suffering.

i (used to) know josh in person, and THAT is the rant that i’m used to.

Yeah, my husband thought it was much too early for me to have nausea at 9 weeks pregnant and said maybe it was “in my head”. And at 8 months pregnant, he asked me if I would be “returning to normal” after the baby was born and how long that would take. He learned his lesson, my friends, and when he gives advice to his buddies now about their wives’ pregnancies, he can now warn them about the wrath of a pregnant woman when asked stupid fucking questions.

Um, did you say anything after “Riley seems to have given up his morning nap for good”? Because I’m still stuck on that. Riley’s what, going on 2 soon? My son gave up his morning nap at, oh, about 14 months, mostly courtesy of the new schedule in the toddler room at daycare. I am amazed that Riley stuck with it this long!

Of course, his timing for giving it up sucks righteously. Of all the times to STOP sleeping so much–just when you could really use (and deserve!) some extra rest yourself.

Hang in there!

It’s funny, I think a lot of people don’t get the kind of relationship that Adam and I have, superficially, which sounds a lot like the one you and JB have, though it might not be exactly the same. We give each other shit. A LOT of shit. It’s all good-fun shit, because at the end of the day, he’s a great husband, and I’m a good wife (one would hope). We like each other. Does that mean that we don’t rag on each other with what some would deem completely inappropriate comments? Nope. We do it daily.

Adam would totally call me a whiner while pregnant. TOTALLY. And while I’d very likely eat his head for breakfast, it wouldn’t make me love him less, or think that he was somehow deeply, deeply flawed and thoughtless. It’s just how we roll. I can take it, and actually, find it amusing as hell most of the time, because I can give him shit right back.

However, it’s worth noting that once, a very long time ago, Adam got a very bad cold, and lo, it was horrible. It was a horrible cold, the WORST cold in history, and did I know how sick he was? Did I REALLY COMPREHEND THE MISERY? (I assure you I did.) There was whining and carping and wailing and sniveling. A few days later, I got the same cold. Miraculously, I went about my daily business without whining constantly and letting the world know how truly horribly, evilly sick I was. His response?

“You don’t have the same thing. It’s a different cold. Mine was MUCH, MUCH WORSE.”

Oh, husbands. How you amuse us.

WHINING? OMG – I would probably kill my husband if he said that to me. My husband, who claims that he is “sick” when he has a damned COLD. Moaning, grunting, head holding while exclaiming “Oh MAN” and various deep sighs about how bad he feels – from a COLD. There is a great website that offers the most awesome ecards – someecards.com – and one of them says something about “I wish you a speedy recovery from your imaginary illness.” Perfect for my husband and, perhaps for many other husbands, too! Check out that site for some totally over the top cards!

It’s a good thing that men aren’t the ones responsible for carrying the babies because I am afraid that the human race might have already become extinct. Whining – please. Perhaps the men in our lives need to have a giant watermelon implanted in their abdomens, carry it around in there for 9 months and then squeeze it out their assholes. Suck it up, dickheads!

And as for Josh – well, I love him normally but that was a pretty harsh comment. Lighten up, honey. Go read some of those ecards until you feel better.

this reminded me of the other day when in ikea a prego woman yelled at her husband “DON’T TELL ME WHAT I NEED AND DON’T NEED, I’M 85. MONTHS PREGNANT. I KNOW WHAT I NEED.” i was mortified for her husband. haha. tell him to be happy your not her yet. ;)

Men do whine. A lot. If I had a nickle for every time a man said, “You don’t make enough time for meeeeee”, I’d be rich and I’d have a little cabana boy incapable of speaking. HAR!

Sorry everybody. I just got chewed up and spit out again by yet another woman I really cared about. I was really upset. I shouldn’t vent. That wasn’t cool. I apologise.

this was funny thanks for the laugh and knowing I’m not alone! haha