Tuesday, December 07, 2004

I wanna talk about me!

Fraternal means it’s wide open regarding the sex. The uterus is very stretchy. Vaginal secretions are normal and expected. (Gross.) Colostrum will leak from the nipples. Tender breasts occur in the majority of women. Expected weight gain is about 35 pounds. Full term is 36 weeks for twins. C-sections are customary but avoidable. Epidurals are recommended. (No shit.) People will offer unsolicited advice. (The hell you say!) Severe pain at 6 weeks could indicate an ectopic pregnancy. Uterine pain is normal as tendons stretch. (Oh god…please…stop.) Seven pounds of the weight gain are permanent. Babies are born with brown fat. There is a cheesy coating. (STOP!)

I’ve fucking had enough! I don’t want to know any more about women’s bodies and the miracle of childbirth.

“Jay, listen to this one-“

“No! Fuck no! I’ve had enough. Let’s talk about my nuts for awhile. Or this bump on my tongue. What’s that? Let’s talk about me, let’s talk about us, let’s talk about the state of the union. I don’t give a fuck! Let’s just not talk about this anymore. Anymore! Do you hear me? No more! I love you, Jazz, I love them, but I’m fucking fed up, I tell ya. Fed up!”

When she didn’t move, but just sat there on the couch with her legs crossed and that purple book in her hands about expecting when you’re expecting, I felt my anger ebb away until nothing but guilt remained. Oh god. What have I done?

She gently closed her book, set it on the coffee table, and stepped up in front of where I was standing. “Jazz, I’m sorry-“

“You’re right.”

“What? I’m what?”

“No babies tomorrow. Tuesday will be the non-baby day. No uteruses-"

“Shouldn’t it be uteri? You know, like cacti?”

“Shut up, Jay.”


“No talk of the babies or moving in together or my body or anything that isn’t 'us' centered. Deal?”


Blessed Tuesday. Finally, a day to be human again and not just ‘the father.’ I plan to make the best of it. I’m going to tell her all about how my sorry fucking team lost last night in fantasy football because that bastard picked up 50 points in the last half of the game and the crucial 6 points in the last 2 minutes of the game. Then I’m going to tell her what all I want for Christmas. And then I’m going to tell her about how I volunteered to host a poker night this month. She’ll be thrilled.

I tried to embed a song, but blogger doesn’t do that. Tripod by Lycos does. In fact, Tripod does a lot of shit blogger doesn’t do. That’s how I got the favicon for this site. If your bookmark doesn’t show a blue “J” then you must be using Internet Explorer, unsecure piece of shit. You’ll have to rebookmark it for the J to show up. For those of you using Mozilla’s Firefox that are cool like me then you’ve already seen it. I noticed 25% of my hits came from people with Firefox browsers so I tried it out and can’t believe I didn’t hear about it sooner. It fucking rocks. Thanks for cluing me in, you secretive bastards.

So back to Tripod, the song can be found on this site.