How to Survive Shark Week without Someone Losing a Limb
Shark week is not my favorite week of the month. Shark week (menstruating and PMS, in case you were confused) is just one more thing that I have to deal with on my already full Mommy plate. Shark week is that one week of the month when my entire body rages against me and decides to attempt yet another mutiny. Ain’t no mutiny like a shark week mutiny! Damn you , shark week!
My breasts ache. My ovaries feel as if a tiny angry troll is squeezing them. I’m bloated like a dead fish ( no correlation to the smell, I smell like a summer’s day, damn it!) and as if by some cruel joke, it’s the one week of the entire month that my husband finds me completely sexually irresistible ( well, that and ovulation week. Conspiracy, I tell you!). Unfortunately for him, I am like a hybrid between a Praying Mantis and Black Widow spider. All I want to do is rip his head off and eat my young, not necessarily in that order.Pretty much, if you breathe you are in danger of incurring my bloody, hormonal rage and for some reason, I swear my teeth get bigger.
This is Your Mom on Shark Week
For your safety, I am listing here a few ways to survive Shark Week without Losing a limb;
- No sudden movements or loud sounds, Mama usually has a migraine during shark week. Move slowly and quietly for optimal chance of survival rate.
- For the love of God, please don’t hide my Diva Cup or flush all the tampons. I’m talking to you fruit of my loins, this could result in Mommy’s head spinning and/or completely popping off.
- Have chocolate and carbs in the house. A pizza with a side of French fries and a Ding Dong usually does the trick. And NO, don’t remind me that I’m on a diet. There is no reasoning with me when I am on shark week.
- Don’t ask me any stupid questions, like where is the milk? It’s in the fridge! Do you want to die? And please pick up your f*cking socks! I’m not your maid. Would you like me to shove them down your throat? ( This is directed at the Big Guy, not the children. I pick up their socks, with no threat of choking them out, on the regular.)
- Don’t look at me sideways, it will surely not bode well for you. I know you will be tempted to test this theory, but just be aware that during shark week, better men have died for less.
- Don’t comment on how tight my jeans are or the extra head-sized pimple that has sprouted on my forehead. I can see it. I’m menstruating, not blind and I am hyper aware of every single flaw this week.
- Don’t expect me to try on clothes, especially a bathing suit for a vacation. Don’t even ask. You will be wasting your time and is your life worth it?
Shark Week, is that eye roll worth dying over?
- Don’t take my measurements for any reason under the sun. Seriously, Mr. Personal Trainer, I know you are a man and don’t understand but I don’t need to know how many inches the water retention is adding to my body. My jeans are cutting me in half; believe me, I’m already aware.
- Don’t be my Mother or Mother-in-law, anything you do while I am on shark week will leave me exasperated and annoyed, usually taken as passive aggression and held against you for the week. I would recommend marking your calenders and not calling me or making eye contact at all that week.This is more for your benefit than my sanity. I promise.
- Don’t ask me to step on the scale, this is pretty much any day of the month but it could have dire consequences for you during this week.
- Don’t raise your voice at me, not even moderately. You can try it. But I’m pretty sure that I will have snatched the snark right out of your mouth before you get to the second word. But, hey, it’s your life.
- Don’t touch my boobs or ask for any kind of “service” for you. I’m dying over here. Why should you be having a good time?
- Which reminds me, little one, please don’t ask Mommy for a baby brother on this week. It truly is the furthest thing from my mind. Birth is pain and I’m in enough right now with the troll squishing my ovaries, my sore boobs and cramps. Ask me in a couple weeks, when the water weight is gone and I‘m feeling frisky (this tends to happen during ovulation week. See, conspiracy I tell you!)
- And under no circumstances, ever ask me if I’ve got PMS? Just observe and know it, that’s enough to save your life. I don’t need your commentary. I know I’m on shark week. I don’t need to know that you know and think I’m being a hormonal bitch I already know that.
- Your best bet for surviving Shark week is to stay still, be quiet and hope that I don’t see you. In 3-5 days I will be back to my sweet self but for the next few days, stay out of the water.
What is your best tip for surviving shark week in your home? Has anyone ever been seriously maimed during that week? What was there crime? Can’t wait to hear your stories in the comments, Misery enjoys company…especially this week. Oh and for an extra dose of The TRUTH I am guest posting at Blogging Dangerously Where sex in the city meets married with children today. If you are not already familiar with Blogging Dangerously, go now and check it out. Kit is an amazingly funny and quick witted writer and I’m sure that you will love her as much as I do. Also, she is the creator of #wineparty on Twitter every Friday night. What’s not to love?
*Disclaimer; I did not coin the term Shark Week.I can’t remember who the brilliant soul on Twitter was who did, but I have made it my own. That week of the month will forever be known as Shark week in my household. When my daughters begin menstruating, I will pass it down. Shark week is now my legacy:)
P.S. No husbands, children, Mothers or Mother-in -laws were harmed in the making of this Shark week post.
Happy Shark Week, Hope we all make it out alive