Urban Crusing

10 things about pregnancy and marriage ...

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I stumbled upon Toulouse and Tonic while on Pinterest, and couldn't help but laugh. Some of those points hit just about toooooo much close to home! I think any of those that are pregnant or have been can agree? And those of you that don't have children - just have a good laugh (but... I would suggest silently) when you are around someone with a belly. My husband tried REALLY hard not to laugh ( you know , comes with experience by now...) , but it was obvious that most , if not all , points hit right on. So, here it is!

Top 10 Sucky Things About Being Married to a Pregnant Woman


1. Violent mood swings. Crazy as it seems, that beautiful and sexy woman you married has the strength and stamina of a hungry UFC fighter. During this time she wants things a certain way and if they don’t go her way, hell’s fury will rain down. During our first pregnancy, my wife asked me to vacuum the carpet on a Friday night. I got the vacuum out, but got busy doing something else. Sunday afternoon rolled around and I was parked in front of the TV set watching the Cowboys – vacuum still in the middle of the living room and carpet still untouched. She asked me again to vacuum the carpet. I told her I would after the game was over. The skies started turning black, the wind picked up, and Psycho music started playing. This should’ve tipped me off to what was going to happen next. My beautiful, pregnant bride easily picked up the upright vacuum cleaner with one hand, threw it across the room at me and screamed, “VACUUM THE &%#$*@ CARPET!!!”. She ran out of the room crying and I sat there saying things to myself like “I will be damned someone throws a vacuum cleaner at me and gets away with it,” “Who does she think she is?!?!?”, and “I am married to a crazy bitch!”. Then I vacuumed the carpet for the next 30 minutes.

2. Breastfeeding class. Yep, like many expecting dads I got conned into attending a breastfeeding class on a Saturday, in the fall, during COLLEGE FOOTBALL season. Now, I like boobs as much as the next guy, but come on! 8 hours of instruction and video on how to use these things? I don’t even have them but they seem pretty simple to operate to me. One dad in the class was even asking questions about how his wife should treat her cracked and sore nipples.

3. Compliments that aren’t taken like compliments. Don’t make the mistake of even responding when your wife complains about her body during this period. Just act like you don’t hear it. Any “compliment” you can provide her to make her feel better will be taken out of context and placed in the same category as a quote from Bin Laden. A warning from my personal experience – when walking through the mall, be sure to avoid the trap of “Do I look as pregnant as her?”. The best thing to do in that case is run aimlessly through the mall screaming that your balls are on fire – much less traumatic for you.

4. Baby showers. One of the biggest whips there is. Nothing like going to a party (usually scheduled during a much-anticipated sporting event) with a bunch of people you don’t know, giving you a bunch of shit you could care less about, and NO ALCOHOL to make it all better. Brutal. And you have to sit there and open all the “gifts” and smile like you got the most precious nugget of gold or best bottle of bourbon which incidentally is NOT what you got. And the stories being told – find your happy place and quick. By the third kid, I was like Rain Man at these things.

5. Attending doctor’s visits. It’s something you have to do, but I always felt perverted sitting around a bunch of pregnant woman with my pregnant wife waiting for the scheduled doctor visit (that was an hour late). Then the doctor sits with you for five minutes, tells you everything looks good, and charges your insurance with a full informational office visit.

6. Thinking up a name. Seriously?! Can’t these things be assigned by the government or something? You think for hours on end about what to name this little person that will eventually grow up and tell you that you don’t know shit and sneak your alcohol when you aren’t around, only for you (or someone else) to “change” their name once they appear in this world. My youngest is named Andrew Dalton. The first minute I held him I called him AD. He has been AD ever since and even his friends call him AD. People in the stands at his sporting events call him AD. He signs his papers AD. Someone once asked me how Andrew was doing and I asked, “Who the hell is that?”. I used to practice yelling out the names we discussed in our back yard. If I sounded like a dumb ass, I would push like hell not to pick this name. “Honey, did you see that some dude named Cameron shot 7 people in Dallas then kicked a puppy while he ran from police?”

7. Weird food cravings. Yes, we think it’s fine that you crave hotdogs dipped in Kool-Aid powder, but that doesn’t mean WE want to eat that shit too. And don’t act like our double-meat, double-cheese burger is the most disgusting thing you have ever seen and that you can’t stand the smell of it so we need to eat it somewhere other than the location you are in.

8. Sex. I know this is an easy one, but it has to be listed. We love you very much but contrary to what everyone says there truly is something creepy about doing that whole “thing” with your sweet, precious, unborn infant just a few inches from the nasty probe that caused this whole mess. And the more kids you have, the further you — and sex — slide down the importance scale. By the third kid, I was approximately the 7th priority after the kids, the dogs, and a couple of nice sweaters.

9. Boobs. The good news – this is the coolest thing about a woman’s pregnancy – you get a free preview of what a huge porn star boob job would look like on your wife. The bad news – you can look but don’t touch. Why must God make them so sore at the same time he made them so big? The really bad news is that these beautiful things are for some little runt that won’t even appreciate them and their greatness. Oh, and afterwards, they go away — far, far away.

10. Nightmares. I’m not sure if everyone’s pregnant woman has these but mine would scream at 3am like she was an extra on the Blair Witch Project. I’m not talking a “normal” scream — more of a 30 second guttural, deep throat, building in crescendo, to the point the dogs are flinging themselves under the bed in panic, that pops you straight up from a dead sleep with your heart pounding like you just finished a 400 yard dash and thinking that Jason has just walked into your bedroom with a machete in one hand and a severed head in the other. Only to have her wake up and tell YOU to “BE QUIET! I’M TRYING TO SLEEP, DAMMIT!” Just roll over, Beethoven! { source here}

Do you agree? 

Wishing you a happy weekend!