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Six Month Update

My tiny human, Franny, is six months old, which means I’ve been a mom for half a year… talk about a holy shit moment.

I had high hopes of blogging my experiences, but then life happened. My beloved brother died in January. I went back to work full-time in February, and suddenly here we are and it’s the end of April… and I’m like “Oh yeah, I have a blog.”


Having a baby and working full-time means I don’t have a lot of free time. And truthfully, free time is the last thing I want. I want more time with my daughter.  Can you blame me? Look at this little pile of love.

Six Month Old Franny

I knew I’d enjoy motherhood on some level, but I wasn’t prepared for just how much. This kiddo is rocking my world and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So as for an update. I’m surviving. Franny is surviving. The pugs and husband are, too, surviving. I managed to get through a family tragedy, post pregnancy hormones and a colicky infant all at once.

With that behind me, I’m just enjoying every single day with my family. More to come…

Baby Names

Today someone asked me if we had a name for the baby. Silly question, since I have named basically every inanimate object I’ve ever owned.

“Of course we have a name! Right now I’m calling her Goddamn Fetus, but we are thinking of changing it in time for her birth.”

At that moment I realized I am a monster and shouldn’t be allowed to procreate, but at least I’m a funny monster to some. Just not the person I was speaking to at the moment. But oh well, you can’t win over everyone.

Things Your Asshole Friends Don’t Tell You About Pregnancy Symptoms

In an attempt to get our house ready for a tiny human that will be arriving in October, I took a couple much needed days off work. At 19 weeks pregnant, I have the energy to get shit done and wanted to take advantage before that disappears along with my waistline.

A few hours into my de-junking project I got bored and ran to the grocery store to get that task out of the way. I raced through Harmons throwing basically anything vegetarian with protein into my cart and headed to the check-out line. Normally the cashiers are uber friendly, so it was really odd that the cashier barely spoke to me. The only time she looked up at me, she stared at me like she’d seen a ghost.

When I reached my car I checked the mirror to get apply Chapstick to my badly chapped lips, and noticed something absolutely disgusting. My entire mouth was covered in blood. I’m talking nasty vampire scene of blood dripping from my teeth.


Yeah, so bleeding gums are apparently yet another pregnancy symptom no one bothered to tell me about. This baby girl had better be worth it. OR ELSE.

Procreation, It Happens


Pregnancy is so goddamn weird. And I’m not even talking about the weirdness that is happening to my body, but rather how people react.

The most common reaction comes from my family to my husband. “Chris, we are just SO VERY proud of you.” Um, proud of him… for what exactly? Jizzing in their daughter/sister/granddaughter?

Maybe it’s normal to tell an expectant father you’re proud of him, but to me it sounds so odd. How about being proud of me? I’m the one actually growing our daughter, and I’d like a parade… or at least a trophy.

If that happens will someone please wake me up, because I may possibly nap through it.