Wednesday, September 2, 2009


My son turned 4 this past August. Unfortunately for him by the time August rolls around I’d rather have thumbscrews then participate in another birthday party. Don’t get me wrong I’m overjoyed he’s another year older and I totally want to celebrate his birthday. I just want to do it like the first time, drugged on a table. It’s not his fault he made an August debut. His father was the one who misunderstood, "wanna stuff the turkey?" It’s been a long year of Saturday sugar highs and Coxsackie filled play spaces. I’m tired of coercing my children to grab onto that fucking rainbow parachute and pizza, one of my favorite foods, has been ruined forever. I’m done with the bag of shit containing tiny toxic bubbles and crap tats. I am suffering from a serious birthday party hangover.

Gone are the days of yore when a hangover could be fixed by puking and napping. Having children has revealed a slew of new hangovers and these seem to really hang over and over. When I went a week past due with my 9 ½ lb baby I was introduced to the "pregnancy hangover." Let me get this out of the way right now. If you’re one of those women who felt alive and glowing while pregnant I salute you, with my middle finger. Not only did I throw up for 38 weeks with both pregnancies, but I was a walking list of "most common side effects." Everyday my body reacted like I drank from a giant water cooler made in Da Nang. Thankfully all it took was me pushing really hard and shitting on a table to cure that one.

Some hangovers are worse than others. I’ve pulled many "all nighters" during college and my career. The next day I had the caffeine shakes, hallucinated a little and smelled of BO and vending machine. I was always able to power through because, it was a one night thing. Nothing prepared me for "newborn hangover." I was chronically dirty, shaky, and cold. That cute little baby turned into a Guantánamo Bay prison guard every night for 5 long months. I pulled it together most days but I was holding on by a very short string. My solid, happy, sexually charged marriage was shaken to it’s core. The only cure for "newborn hangover" was time and my brother-in-law who took pity on us and volunteered to "do a night." Honestly people, save the onesies with cutesy shit written on them and "do a night."

The only hangover truly worth it’s salt is the "sex hangover." Even though your genitals feel like they went for a run in clogs and you smell of fluids and lube, you had fun doing it. Sadly, I don't have many of those anymore. Thanks kids.


freddie at the box said...

i pissed myself reading this - you are quite the comedic writer/talent!!!

Lisa Page Rosenberg said...

"Your genitals feel like they went for a run in clogs," is maybe the best turn of phrase ever.

You funny.

Anonymous said...

OMG this has to be some of the funniest shit i have EVER read!! i literally laughed till i lost my breath! you are definitely a VERY funny and talented writer!

Lady Of The House said...

Thanks all. I am blushing through my adult acne :)

Stone Fox said...

i cried. i laughed so hard i cried. and i don't mean in that fake, hyperbolic OMGROFLMAO!!! way. real tears.

so thanks.