|Strong parenting TAEK, Thriller!|
They were as happy as your wife's parents are that she hasn't procreated with you.—Drew (2013 CotY) 12/27/2013
Well, guess what, Dick Drooler, YOU LOSE! Bend over, Seal, because here comes Big Pimpin’! If you subscribe to my Facebook feed then you already know this but I must make it official here, too. That’s right, She$ and I are expecting our first sometime in late July. DEAL WITH IT.
How about THAT for some fucking BREAKING NEWS, BRAH! Of course, I’ve got a few amusing stories from dealing with a wife that is 3+ months pregnant with my child.
*She$ has the worst morning sickness ever. I mean, EVER. I wake up every morning to her painting the toilet with vomit and tears. I feel bad for her because, you know, I did that to her but I’m the one who has to listen to that heaving every day amirite bro! She does seem to have it somewhat contained to just the morning now, as opposed to all day like the first few months. Have you ever lived with someone who is sick for three months straight? NOT FUN.
*I’m doing everything around the house now. As I should because apparently, almost anything can make She$ nauseous. At first, I didn’t mind it but it is really starting to get on my nerves. Yeah, that sounds selfish and I get that but WHAT ABOUT ME!!! I do all the grocery shopping now which is fine because I have discovered great things like Velveeta cheesy hash browns and Marie Callendar’s chicken corn chowder pot pie (ELITE). She says that even walking into the grocery store would make her barf so I keep inviting her because I would love to watch my wife hurl all over the produce section and then not clean it up. She can’t cook for the same reason as above which leads to great situations like “can you Foreman those Hebrew National hot dogs?” (I only buy the best and those are THE BEST) only for her to come downstairs and be repulsed because the house smells like hot dogs. MAKES SENSE! I also have to pack her lunch every day. Ever pack a sack lunch for a 33 year old woman? Didn’t think so. She tries her best, I’ll give her that, and she tries not to push me too much (will not give her that) but it’s still frustrating. She’s probably faking it now just to watch me suffer. As I tell her almost daily, I am pretty much her slave at this point. I better get some reparations once this kid shows up. In conclusion on this topic, morning sickness is no joke. You may think that this paragraph is harsh and will get me in trouble (and it probably will) but I’m not worried. The only torture that she has not inflicted on me yet is puking in my face.
*We had to go to the ER already. It was the Saturday in between CHRISTmas and NYE and I was at the casino playing blackjack with Rune when I got a text from She$ that she couldn’t move without vomiting, held no food down, and was contemplating going to the ER. I was already on my fifth G$weiser at that point but decided that my spawn was more important than my millions (the table just started getting hot!) or my buzz. But I stood in line for 30 minutes to cash out my chips anyway because I’m a smart person. I got home and she said that she was going to try to suck it up. I fell asleep with a nice buzz only to be awaken an hour later saying that I needed to drive her to the ER. This is at 2 AM. It was then that I saw the sonogram image of my future child…still a little drunk…and having no idea what I was looking at. Name something more awesome than seeing your kid for the first time with a heavy booze cloud hanging over you! YOU CAN NOT. This is why I get paid the big bucks. The ER Doc walked away and I said something awesome to the wife like, “it looked like a cat’s head”. She was impressed with my stupidity but not impressed with my Anheuser breath. They gave her two IVs and sent us home at 7 am. That was a shitty night.
*Calling your pregnant wife “Octomom” or Kate Gosselin will never not be funny to me. Most people say that you should be nice to your baby mama. I disagree. I believe the exact opposite. In FACT, I can't wait to have the smallest gut in the house.
*I have no idea what I’m doing or what to expect. I don’t plan on reading any books about what I should or shouldn’t do when it comes to parenting. I feel like I’m ELITE enough to go in blind. And since that will never work, it will give her a chance to make up for how crappy the pregnancy months were for me! LULZ!
*We can find out what we’re having on March 6th. I want to know. She is unsure. I don’t know why. We have so little control over what is happening and what to do; I would love to have at least one certainty. Early prediction for names...Boy = Macho Man; Girl = Miss Elizabeth. There will be a name post in the future so let's not get too far ahead of ourselves. This life-changing event is bound to give many HOT TAEKS.
So that’s where we stand. G$ is going to be a father for the first time. If I have seemed a little short-tempered at all recently, it is because I have a lot on my plate these days and that plate features no succulent ribs. I have to give She$ a lot of credit—this hasn’t been easy on her at all but it’s about the end game. No one gives a shit how you got there. I guess that I’m just jealous that she is logging more couch time than me while I’m out walking the dog or doing the dishes. There you go. Now you’re up to speed. In less than six months, I will have my own clone to share my vast fantasy football knowledge with. One thing is certain: I plan on making a TON of mistakes! YAY! BABY! By the way, RibFest is now a Diaper Party. J/K…or am I?