Category Archives: Cartoon

Otis the Dino Slayer

To be or not to be, that is the question.

Ok, that’s not the question. Or at least it’s not my question.  My question is: With the mama or not with the mama?

And of course, I’m talking about where exactly baby should sleep, with the mama or not with the mama. Particularly a 4 month old baby. Named Otis.

Actually, I’m not really wondering where said baby should sleep. I kind of already know where said baby should sleep.

With the mama.

Lemme explain how I came to that decision.

Somewhere on The Internet is an article about attachment parenting/breastfeeding/your boobs are for babies NOT for men, and in that article a very good point is made. You should sleep with your baby because if you don’t a dinosaur will eat them.


Ok, fine, no such thing as dinosaurs. Got it. But I get the article’s point. Why would you leave something so vulnerable (a baby) alone to defend himself against something so horrible (a dinosaur)?

This makes perfect sense to me. So Otis is in our room until further notice.

But I guess that’s the question, isn’t it? When am I going to be ok with Otis being alone WITH A DINOSAUR? How will I know he’s ready to defend himself against a dinosaur? Are there Baby vs. Dinosaur Training DVDs?

And so until I can figure out how to know when my little bundle of goodness is ready to slay a dinosaur sleep in his own room, this just might be little man’s future…

What are everyone’s thoughts on baby sleeping situations? Also, I don’t judge you for letting your baby be dino food. You’re baby might, but I don’t.

(Seriously, I am fully aware that I’m setting Mark and I up for a butt load of problems in the near future, but right now I just want my snuggle bug close by.)

When I kill him I hope the news calls me the Nutty Buddy Terror

When Mark and I found out about Marshmallow one of my first honest to goodness thoughts was this:

Mark and I will never fight again. How could I possibly fight with this man? This WONDERFUL man who I have CREATED LIFE with. How could I EVER get mad at the FATHER OF MY CHILD? We are permanently joined in this world and our bond? Our bond is now UNBREAKABLE.

Yeah.

Realistically, I knew that we would fight, but there was a part of me that honestly thought we wouldn’t. That the power of love and reproduction meant that we were going to beat the odds.

Then Situation Nutty Buddy happened. And those dreams of happily ever melted away like a… like… well, like a forgotten Nutty Buddy.

To help you better understand Situation Nutty Buddy I drew pictures. You’re welcome.

Scene 1: I want a Nutty Buddy.

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Scene 2: Mark agrees to get Nutty Buddy for me.

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Scene 3: I wait. Patiently.

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Scene 4: Still waiting. Still pregnant.

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Scene 5: Mark literally starts walking in circles AROUND the Nutty Buddy. I’m wondering if my Nutty Buddy defense will stand up to charges of murder.

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Scene 6: He gives me a goodnight kiss. No Nutty Buddy in hand. Oh hellz noes.

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Scene 7: I stomp over to GET MY OWN NUTTY BUDDY. Because obviously no one loves me.

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I didn’t know how to draw the silent treatment or how I turned the emotional temperature of our marital bed to a solid negative 38 degrees, but just trust that I did.

To say that I was livid about having to get up and get my own Nutty Buddy would be an understatement.  And all that bull honky about “we’ve created life together” and “how can I get mad at someone as perfect as my husband” was forgotten in nanoseconds. This man was clearly my enemy.

Scene 6:  I turn into a crying, yelling maniac in an effort to help my enemy husband understand how much hurt he has caused.

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I started giggling.

That line killed me.

“You’re driving a 2 penny nail home with a 10 pound sledgehammer.”

And just as fast as I got mad I got glad. Which basically means that Mark is officially married to the hormonal 16 year old version of Marie. And that’s scary. Because that bee-yotch was certifiably Nutty, Buddy.