A note: Nothing in this should be taken too seriously and if anything said (to the rando’s reading this bullshit) gets your panties in a wad, go do some fucking yoga while eating your cardboard cookies.

I have been unable to take my regular medicine because I made a bad decision to have sex with my husband, so there is now a parasite growing inside my body sucking every brain cell I have out of my head and promptly digesting and excreting any semblance of intelligent life. This happens when you’re pregnant, so if you’ve never been pregnant, boy are you missing out. And if you have been pregnant and you deny it, say it with me here, “I’m a liar.”

I try to deny that “mommy brain” is a thing that exists, but it’s real as I have experienced it first hand, twice now. It makes me look and feel like a bumbling idiot as I’m trying to get my thoughts out and I appear instead to be drooling like a moron that has had one too many and needs to go the fuck to bed. And I think the most annoying part is knowing that I actually have a brain rolling around in my head somewhere that begs to speak normal adult language and cannot because it’s being sucked dry by the vampire growing inside my uterus. I honestly don’t even know why I started writing this post….

 

It’s possible that I was going to bitch about something mundane as work or whatever was bothering me right before I started to type and immediately forgot about. All I know is that I feel the rage of a thousand dragons burning inside me, and I can’t even pinpoint the anger. It could be that I want one fucking minute to myself to chill and relax in peace without worry about my child throwing his diaper in the wind and rubbing his penis on everything he could find. It might be that I’d give my right leg to be able to use the bathroom without a screaming baboon trying to break down the door crying because God forbid I actually lock the door to pee alone ONE TIME. I need a minute to breathe and to do something that I enjoy doing alone without having to worry about anything else. I need a minute to be a selfish, entitled piece of shit that doesn’t have kids and can sleep in until noon if they damn well pleased because fuck responsibilities. Just one. ONE FUCKING MINUTE.

I love my slobber monster in a way that I can’t describe, don’t get me wrong. I would slit your throat and murder your whole family if you ever (tried to) hurt my Goobie. But in a world of, “Mommy, mommy. LOOK!” I need him to chill the fuck out and go tell whatever dumb shit he’s spewing to his dad instead. Because sometimes I need some air.

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