I’m Only Human So Don’t Piss Me Off

fwordYou know what I’m not? I’m not a robot. I’m not one of those holier-than-thou people who spew forth goodness, but in reality are just as terrible in real life as you and me. You know who I mean. We all know one or two. Every morning their social media explodes with colourful, flowery, powerful affirmations to get us through our day.
Holy Mofo. Sorry about the language! Namaste. Hah! They drive me completely insane – mostly because you really don’t want to turn your back on these people. Now I’m not saying there are no genuinely wonderful people out there. Of course there are. I’m living proof. (Okay, sit down in the back. It’s called a freaking joke. Sheesh!) But the truly genuine, wonderful people are not afraid to let off some steam.
Now I’m not saying I know everything. (Which of course I do, but you already knew that because you’ve read this blog before and keep coming back for more because we are impossible to resist. I apologise in advance for the addiction, but we really needed the followers in order for our world domination plan to work, so we use subliminal drugs to keep you coming back. I’d love to take the credit for our powerful writing prowess, but it’s the drugs. Really. Would I lie? Of course I would. Wow. You really have been here before! As if you had any choice.) I do however, know a little. I can tell you it is human nature to get a little pissed off from time to time. In fact it is human nature to feel your blood rushing through your veins as though you are about to EXPLODE! So, if I feel my blood start rushing, I do what comes naturally. I talk to someone. I explain why I’m upset. And depending on how pissed off I am, I may talk to others before I talk to you. Is this gossip? Not if it’s true. Am I being malicious? No. I’m saving your life. NAMASTE! I’m letting off a little steam so that when I next talk to you we will both come away with all our limbs intact. You know why? Because I don’t want to kill anyone. Because deep down I am a nice person. Because I don’t want to hurt anyone. Because there is a very good chance I care about you. And the number 1 reason to talk to someone else first? Maybe, (doubtful, but it could happen.) just maybe, I’m wrong. Or maybe that someone else will give me another perspective. Maybe they can see clearly that you did not intentionally piss me off/hurt me/ etc.
In short, I will never make a promise to never talk behind your back because doing so might save our relationship. (Also, I don’t look good in orange jumpsuits) I would love to be perfect. I would love to never judge another human being. But honestly, I’m human. I do make mistakes. I’m just smart enough to not tell you. Hypocritical? Absolutely.


3 Things Cancer SHOULD Have Taught Me – But Didn’t. (AKA: How I Am Failing At Life) (AAKA: Open Letter To Everyone I Love)

I recently read an article in the Huffington Post called “What Cancer Taught Me About Appreciating Life”. It was one of those pieces where the author tells you some profound lesson they have learned because of their experience with illness, or a close brush with death. These stories are meant to inspire others to appreciate life, and show that even something as terrible as cancer can be a blessing if you can find the lesson in it.

Well, I have gotten up close and personal with cancer. In fact, cancer has been hanging around for a few years now. I was diagnosed with cancer a couple years ago. My mom was diagnosed with cancer before that. My best friend’s mom died of cancer. All of this has changed me. It has made me worry more about getting cancer again, and my kids. It has made me think about people who I care about and caused me to check in and talk to them more often. It made me think more about what I should be doing to take care of myself. It has made me realize that there are lessons that come with getting this close to cancer… and that I am a slow learner when it comes to some of these lessons…

1. Don’t take anyone for granted. You never know when someone you love is going to wake up with cancer, or get hit by a bus. When my best friend’s mom died it was the last thing anyone expected. She ate organic, exercised, and was one of the healthiest people we knew. Then she was gone. Although I know this, and experienced it, I am still guilty of taking advantage of the fact that the people I love are here, and not sick. I don’t make enough time for them, and I assume I will always have tomorrow, or next weekend to see them, catch up, or tell them I love them. I think about that fact and try to set aside time, but eventually life gets in the way and then months go by before I start setting aside time again.

2. Don’t count on tomorrow.
Getting diagnosed with cancer hit me like a truck. It came out of nowhere. I thought it was just a normal, run of the mill check up that turned into surgery which turned into an appointment with an oncologist. I didn’t have to go through chemotherapy, or battle the cancer, or even worry that I was going to die… but the word cancer was not one I thought I would hear at 25 years old. So, when I did I decided I wasn’t going to wait to have the baby I wanted, and I wasn’t going to put off schooling to do it, and I was going to do it all. Why, then, do I put off inviting my friends over for dinner, or having coffee with my mom, or starting an art project that I am super excited about?

 3. Make your health a priority. I know that eating right and exercising increases the length of your life and the quality. I know that having a long life is one of the greatest gifts I could give my children. I know this because if there was one thing my mom could give me it would be another 50 years with her on this planet. When she told me she had cancer all I wanted in the world was for it not to be true, and when she beat cancer it was the best feeling in the world. It made me realize how much I still need her and want her around. But in the same way that cancer didn’t immediately make her quit smoking, it doesn’t make me join the gym and eat organic. I always plan to start exercising “next week” and try to eat more greens but then winter comes, and turkey dinners and cake beat health every time.

I am sorry if you thought this was going to be another uplifting, inspirational blogs about how cancer changed my life and I am all the better for it. Really, this is an apology. To my family and friends, I am sorry for not making more time. To my kids, I am sorry for not taking better care of myself. To my partner, I am sorry for going to bed angry, assuming we will both wake up tomorrow. To my Mom, I am sorry for thinking I could make up for a shitty mother’s day next year (or in a month when I had finished the gift I wanted to give you). To myself, I am sorry for not making more of an effort to change these things.

These lessons are important. All of you are important. Making these changes are important. One thing I have always tried to do in my life is something important. Now is as good a time as any to start. Not tomorrow. Not next year. I am going to start by saying I love you, and am thankful for you. It’s been too long since we had a “coffee date”. When is a good time for you?


Dear Jenny Lawson – Forgive Us Our Sins

Never Put Salt On a Snail.

poopblog Dear Jenny Lawson aka The Bloggess

I am writing to inform you of a recent tragedy involving your book Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. I would first like to point out that your publisher is cheaping out on the quality of paper on which your precious words are written. Had your publisher acquired high quality rubber or plastic pages, I would not, in fact, be writing to you now. You see, Jenny, (May I call you Jenny or do you prefer your Bloggess?) on or about April the 25th 2014 at approximately 7:34 p.m. your book was desecrated beyond recognition by a four-day-old baby. I would hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive the child as she knows not what she did. Though we are still reeling from this most horrific event, I assure you that we will do our utmost to make certain that…

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Dear Jenny Lawson – Forgive Us Our Sins

poopblogDear Jenny Lawson aka The Bloggess

I am writing to inform you of a recent tragedy involving your book Let’s Pretend This Never Happened. I would first like to point out that your publisher is cheaping out on the quality of paper on which your precious words are written. Had your publisher acquired high quality rubber or plastic pages, I would not, in fact, be writing to you now. You see, Jenny, (May I call you Jenny or do you prefer your Bloggess?) on or about April the 25th 2014 at approximately 7:34 p.m. your book was desecrated beyond recognition by a four-day-old baby. I would hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive the child as she knows not what she did. Though we are still reeling from this most horrific event, I assure you that we will do our utmost to make certain that the baby in question is raised to worship your words and will most assuredly join the ranks of your faithful followers one day when she is of an appropriate age. We would, however, understand if you were to punish her by way of excommunication, to set an example for others. Still, I feel the need to reiterate that the babe cannot be held wholly responsible as your publisher must take responsibility for the low grade paper on which your illustrious words are written. Had your publisher taken the proper precautions, there would be no need to explain, how an otherwise innocent baby, could wantonly and with undue force projectile feces across a room onto and into the pages of your wondrous book.
It was with heavy heart that The Church of Jenny in our community lay to rest your holy book. I would now ask, nay, beg that you speak with your publisher immediately in hope that we can avert further tragedies. I would also ask that you trouble yourself not with worry for our loss as we will be passing the collection plate at the grave-site, where many of your followers have gathered and set up camp, to raise the funds needed for our new book. We know in our hearts that the original can never be replaced, but we hope that the new book will in time help us to heal. We will also be raising funds for a bullet-proof, fire-proof glass case in which to keep our most precious holy book to prevent what would most certainly be future soilings.
Good day and bloggess,
Your faithful followers,
Gillean Ollsin
Sarah Mandigo

bad-taxidermy-squirrel A token of our affection.

I Won The Lottery! (The Universe Is A LIAR!)

lotteryI’d like to know what a decent person has to do around here to win the lottery. Seriously. I’ve read all these stupid ask the universe books. I’ve got my little vision box on the table next to my bed. Every once in a while I check to make sure all my dreams are still in there. And guess what? They are. What the hell, universe, I thought all I had to do was ask? So far Brad has not left Angelina. And now George is actually engaged to some posh human right’s lawyer! So now I don’t get the vacation home in Italy! Why the hell did I waste my time cutting out all those little pictures if you weren’t going to let me have ANY of the things I’m asking for? Okay, so maybe Brad and George aren’t things. But you said I could have WHATEVER I WANT! LIAR! Do you know how many doctor’s offices I had to sit in to get those pictures? What, did you think I was going to buy the magazines? Do you know how dangerous it is to cut out pictures in a doctor’s office? Pretty sure the doctor would be very happy with me because I was keeping him in business. Some of those women fought hard for those magazines. Pretty selfish if you ask me.

Anyhow, about that lottery. I bought a ticket tonight. Any chance you could see your way clear to letting me win this one? I actually suspect I have the winning ticket. You know why? Because it’s only $5,000,000. Seriously. How am I supposed to survive on that? If you’re going to let me win the lottery, I don’t know why you have to be so cheap about it.  See, I’ve been promising a lot of people that when I win I’ll help them out. How can I do that with a mere pittance? I was planning on feeding some starving people, universe. I’ve been a good girl. Have you heard about karma? Maybe you should look it up. I’m pretty sure you’re behind on my payments!

P.S. Don’t tell Sarah I’m winning. she is one of those pesky people I promised to help!

Enough About Those Bitches

memes-friends-are-like-bananas[1]Baby poop and dog acne? What exactly has become of this blog. We used to be a self-respecting blog. We were filled with ideals when we first began. We were going to be all topical. Not like something you’d put on a sundae, or a wart, but topical, like important shit. Then we started getting too serious. And Sarah was all, “You’re too afraid of offending people.” And I was all, “Me? Afraid of offending people?” And then I realized I’d offended her so I stopped. I stopped partly because I’m nice that way. And partly because, frankly, I’m afraid of Sarah. Not afraid in the way that you’re afraid of a serial killer, or your neighbor who peeks out the window and watches you kind of afraid. Afraid in the – shit she knows stuff about me – afraid. Also, she has a mean streak. And she likes to throw food at you. I wouldn’t care, but she always throws the food I wanted to eat still. And once the gravy is in my hair, it just doesn’t have the same consistency as it has on mashed potatoes. So I stopped. I also stopped because I can’t afford to lose any more friends. And that, people, is what brings us to today’s subject: Enough About Those Bitches.
So I went to a movie this weekend. It was a pretty funny movie. But not a “I like to spend $12.00 at the movies” kinda movie. So maybe save the $12.00 and wait for it on dvd. Okay, you twisted my arm. Stop now please. Okay, seriously. STOP. I know you are all dying to know what movie it was, so I’ll put you out of your misery. It was that new chick flick The Other Woman. It was pretty funny and has some great ideas if you have an ex you’d like to get even with. Personally, I’m still a let’s pretend you’re chum and let you play with the sharks kinda girl, but that’s me. You just can’t change me I guess. But, you can get some pretty good ideas from this movie too. Anyway, the movie was funny, but made me sad. Not because of the cheating, slimeball husband. Because of the friendship. *Sigh* The women in the movie become great friends. I miss great friends. Honestly, I think Sarah is one of the few I have left. No. Nobody died. Well actually, that’s a lie. There have been a few. Wow. Bigger sigh. I miss those friends. But I miss the friends that are still alive.
I miss these friends because they are simply too busy to remember to put the time into our relationships. We are not angry with each other. Okay. One of them is. We had a stupid fight. It really was a stupid fight. But there is no way around it. Now that friendship is gone. WTF! I miss her too. But this is really about the other friends. Where the hell are you?! We’ve got secrets we would take to the grave! We held each other’s hair while we puked! We peed in the street! You hated my boyfriend/husband when I was too stupid to know any better. I hated yours as well. You dyed my father’s lawn blue! (For the record, if you drink beer and eat cotton candy, your vomit is very pretty) We’ve been through babies, divorces, affairs, death, life! WTF?! Where are you? Pick up the damn phone! Shoot me a text! Do you even have a pulse? Do you deserve me? I’m thinking not. You are so busy with your lives that you can’t take five minutes to say hello? It burns my ass that if you are hit by a truck tomorrow I will be the first one there. I will help you get back on your feet. Because that’s who I am. I thought that was who you were too. It’s harder to make these bonds as we get older. We don’t give of ourselves so easily anymore. We don’t trust like we did at seventeen. No one knows me like you do. We simply don’t have the time. You make me sad. And I don’t like sad. Last call. That’s what this is. I’m not about to beg anyone for their friendship. You make me feel like a stalker when I’m always the one to call. Here’s a thought, I wouldn’t chase a man, so why am I chasing you?

Surviving Vaginal Birth for Partners…

If you didn’t know me you may not know that I recently delivered my second baby, vaginally, sans-medication… and it was wonderful, amazing, breathtaking, painful, and terrifying all in the same moment. I have given birth twice now, the same way, but in very different circumstances. The first time I was 7 hours away from home, my mommy wasn’t there, and my partner and I were not getting along well.. I also had a bitchy nurse who didn’t listen to me when I said “hey, this baby is coming” and an intern delivering because my doctor- whom I had only met once before- was about to leave for Christmas vacation. The second time I was in my home city, with my mom, my partner who I was getting along very well with, and a nurse that was literally hand-picked by the universe for us (complete with inappropriate humour, sarcasm, and kindness.. she fit in so well with our dynamic it wasn’t even funny).. and no, my doctor wasn’t there, but that one nurse made ALL the difference.

Now, I have seen many births, and heard about other births, and one thing I have picked up along the way were some great tips about how to be a good support person. I made sure I gave my partner these tips all throughout the pregnancy, however, there were some things he did during the delivery that I hadn’t even suggested, and I realized that there are some things you can learn from others and plan for, and other things you just have to learn as you go… but here is a list of things we learned that were extremely helpful.

1. Go with HER flow.
This is the most important piece of advice EVER. Sure, your best friend may have just had a baby and tells you that speaking in a calming voice and constantly saying “you’re doing good, honey” is the key to getting through this labour, but if your baby-momma starts telling you to shut up and that your “calming voice” is making her want to strangle you.. maybe it isn’t the best tactic. Remember, every person is different, every labour is different, and every relationship is different. Our dynamic is that we make stupid jokes, and are sarcastic. So, how did I get through my labour? By making jokes with nursing staff (though the only one who seemed to enjoy my comedy was our main nurse) and by letting my partner sit in the corner playing on his phone until the really bad contractions started.. Then I just wanted him to be quiet and let me break his hand. A friend of mine got through with her husbands encouragement and calming words, while another good friend of mine got through labour by having me in the room with her husband while we listed awesome (albeit inappropriate) songs to give birth to.* So what I am getting at is… do what makes her comfortable and relaxed and if she changes her mind.. go with it.

2. Don’t take it personally.
Your sweet, angelic partner may turn into a reincarnation of Satan himself during labour. She may swear, scream, and don’t even be surprised if her head spins all the way around and she projectile vomits all over the room in true exorcist fashion. She may even say things she doesn’t (or maybe does) mean.. like that this is all your fault, she hates you, she doesn’t want to have a baby any more.. Trust me, when you are in THAT amount of pain, your brain really just shuts off and you cannot be held accountably for the bullshit coming out of your mouth. In fact, I am not even sure if I was speaking English half the time, let alone making sense.. (Of course I knew I couldn’t change my mind and stop having the baby.. but for a split second I wished I could). So whatever she says, remember that right now she feels like she may die, and just let it roll right off of you. She will love you again in a couple weeks when the pain goes away.

3. Know your own strengths.
A good friend of mine asked me to be present with her husband at their birth because her husband was not good with blood and guts and he knew it. I, on the other hand, go into “auto-pilot” during crisis and don’t even notice blood or other fluids. Her husband stayed at the head of the bed, holding her hand, and being a supportive voice while I jumped into the blood, guts, needles, and vomit with both feet. Not literally. The fact that he knew what he could and couldn’t do and was willing to allow someone else to help her through her labour made all the difference. We didn’t need to stop, mid-contraction, to tell the nurse her husband hit the floor… it was really one of the most helpful things he could have done.

4. Tell her she did good when it’s done.
After the baby is born and in your arms, and you are no longer quite so crazed, you kind of start to realize how insane you were… you also still have stitches, and other painful procedures to look forward to, and one of the best things to hear at this moment is that you did really well bringing a child into the world. Thank her. Love her. Be proud of her. She just did the biggest, scariest job in the world, and you benefit in countless ways from this single event.

5. Don’t let her take care of you.
This was the most helpful thing my partner did for me. I am one of those people that always takes care of everyone else before me. During labour I was asking if he was okay. After labour, when I was sore, I was trying to make sure he ate, slept well, wasn’t bored, etc.. He refused to let me take care of him. He made me focus on taking care of myself and our new baby, and healing. He took care of me, and despite my protestation, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I healed faster, and felt better than I would have had he let me focus on him instead of myself. This goes for more than the first day, by the way. For as long as you can after that baby is born help her, and do not let her take better care of you than she does of herself. This is one of those times that everyone benefits from her being selfish. She will heal faster, and is less likely to burn out and suffer from severe depression. Also, you will get serious brownie points, and after putting her through that shitty labour you probably need some.


No. This is not a fool proof guide. And no, this will not prepare you for labour. It is a crazy roller-coaster, and it changes every time you go through it. But hopefully this survival guide will help you to be a bit more understanding and loose when you enter that labour room. The key really is to ride her vibes and take it as it comes. This is one of those momentous moments in life where you may feel completely lost, but once you find yourself at the very end of it, you will find yourself right in the middle of the best thing you’ve ever felt. True love.

*Note: Drop it like it’s hot, Push it, and Under Pressure were among the top contenders for the most amazing (albeit inappropriate) labour and delivery songs.. as decided by myself, my friend, and her husband. Put them on your play list. You’re welcome. 😉



Diaper Wars

When I was pregnant with my son, people prepared me. They said again and again, be careful when you change his diaper. Boys like to pee on you.

So, when he was born, I was ready. I watched carefully for any movement that looked like it could be him getting ready to strike. I kept the diaper hovering over him and swapped diapers out with lightening speed. He tried to get me, but I was fast. I was not going to be the victim of my sons bottom end.

Now I have a girl. A newborn, perfect little girl. Nobody warned me about her peeing on me. Nobody said to watch out for spontaneous fountains of urine… so I figured I could put the ninja suit away and relax a bit. I had one nurse say to watch out for poop in the beginning, but I have known so many people who had girls and never got peed on or pooped on.. so I didn’t keep diapers hovering or use lightning speed to do the diaper swap. I felt fairly safe.

I. Was. Wrong. DEAD WRONG.

In the first week alone my daughter managed to poo on her dad, poo all over several blankets, and change pads, and the dresser… She even pooped into the pages of my newest favourite book.. “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir” by Jenny Lawson (The Bloggess)… Not ON the book.. INTO THE PAGES.. (note: it was on the other side of the dresser from her change pad).

We aren’t just talking about an overflowing diaper with a little leak.. it is projectile poo during the change. We started trying to change her quickly, put up barriers, and used our quickest diapering techniques… the poo kept coming.

It’s like she knows… and if we do manage to change her without getting hit with a slimy pile of poo, she immediately soils the clean diaper, causing us to have to enter the war-zone yet again.

Mothers of Daughters be forwarned.. yes, boys are good at peeing on you if you don’t watch out.. but that precious angel you have in your arms could be the stealth ninja of poop. Beware of friendly fire.