Archive for August, 2009
Little House
I am very pleased by the fact that we live in a small house — 950 square feet to be exact. It’s not something I really talk about (except for now, of course) because it’s one of those things (like being a vegetarian, cloth diapering, or biking instead of driving a car) that, when you talk about it, kind of makes you sound like a self-satisfied, smug asshole.
That said, indulge me for just a minute. I think many people think they need more space than they really do. It’s something that really bugs me when watching HGTV, which I do quite a bit, especially now that I’m getting into serious nesting territory. I’m always amazed by what people think they “need” when looking for a house. They need way more bedrooms than they have people, a finished basement, a “man cave” (don’t get me started on that bullshit) and/or a scrapbooking room, a master suite, a play room for the kids, 27 bathrooms, and a gigantic kitchen with great room (also, don’t get me started on the still-raging obsession with granite counters and stainless steel appliances, which I think are boring, gross, and one day soon will be looked on with as much disgust as the avocado green of the 70s). Many of these people complain about formal living rooms, saying they never use them. Well, duh! You have so much space in that house, there’s no way you could use all the rooms.
Pregnancy isn’t that bad.
My last post was pretty negative, so I want to follow it up with something nicer, which can be summarized as follows: Pregnancy: It’s not that bad.
I mean, it’s not that bad for me. If a boring discussion about my awesome pregnancy won’t annoy you or piss you off, here you go.
Pregnant women don’t want to hear your horror stories.
It’s a universal truth that at some point during her pregnancy, a woman will experience the following, probably several times:
She’ll be having a discussion about something related to pregnancy, babies, or children, and somebody will end up telling her a horror story about something that happened to her or someone she knows. I’ve been referring to this as “horror storying,” and it often is accompanied by unsolicited assvice.
It goes like this:
Asshole: Blah blah blah [insert pregnancy-related issue here].
Pregnant Woman: Oh yeah, I’ve done a lot of research on that issue. I’m going to do X.
Asshole: Oh! I have a friend who did X. [Insert horror story about terrible thing that happened to Friend of Asshole as the result of doing X.] You really should consider doing Y.
Pregnant Woman: ….
