A cartoon, drawn badly and with stick people

The plague is currently kicking my ass, so I’m not exactly in the right frame of mind to write many coherent sentences in a row about one specific topic (because that requires thinking).

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But I didn’t want to ignore y’all. I couldn’t do that. So what’s a girl to do when she’s too virus-addled to think?

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Why, draw a picture, of course! Using MS Paint, naturally. And since I can’t draw my way out of a paper bag, with a computer or otherwise, it’s a really terrible drawing. (This is why I don’t draw. Not even stick people.)

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The post-apocalyptic new parent

Congratulations! You’ve gotten through the post-apocalyptic pregnancy and survived the post-apocalyptic childbirth. Now, you’re ensconced in your tent, tucked away in the (relative) safety of your survival camp, with your brand-new, adorable tiny human.

By this I mean your brand new, really loud, really demanding, and sometimes not all that adorable tiny human.

We all know babies are loud. They’re also like little divas, since they don’t do anything but demand you cater to their needs. (Though it could be argued that all kids are like this, regardless of their age. Ahem.) They also require a lot of planning.

The next time you’re traipsing through your favorite department store, take a quick walk through the baby department. You see all that stuff? Cribs, diapers, clothing, wipes, strollers, playpens, blah blah blah? Most of that is actually necessary. (Some of it isn’t—I mean, as much fun as it was to plop my kid in a bouncy seat that vibrated and sang lullabies while blinking in a soothing  nightlight pattern, it was also totally ridiculous and completely unnecessary.)

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Zombie wasps promote anarchy and parasite life cycle

A few days ago, Tavia sent me a link to a story that disturbed me. Actually, it freaked me the hell out, and kicked up my paranoia by a few many notches.

You know how we’ve all pretty much said that a zombie apocalypse is unlikely? We might be wrong about that. Because the zombie apocalypse is HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.

Okay, so, it’s happening to wasps, but it’s still happening. (I know, right? The apocalypse cometh.)

There is a lovely little parasite with a Latin name I can’t pronounce (vesparum something), whose larvae burrow into the belly of the European paper wasp when the two species make contact. (Let me repeat that. BURROWS INTO. As in, tunnels through this thing’s belly. Ew. And ow.)

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Post-apocalyptic childbirth

Last week, we talked about post-apocalyptic pregnancy. This week, we move on to labor and delivery.

Again, the caveat: I am not a medical professional, midwife, or a doula. I’m writing this from the perspective of someone who’s given birth to two children.

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Ready? Here we go! Continue reading “Post-apocalyptic childbirth”

Post-apocalyptic pregnancy: A basic primer

In the early post-apocalyptic days, it might seem ridiculous to think about having children. But you’re going to have to think about it at some point. If you don’t have kids, the human race is doomed anyway, so what would’ve been the point of surviving the apocalypse?

So. Babies. I’m going to skip over the mechanics of actually making them (pretty sure we all know how that works). Instead, I’m going to focus on the nine-month flu and the painful act of trying to rip a watermelon out of a peanut. Since there’s a lot of material to cover, I’ll split them into two posts. This week, I’ll be talking about the post-apocalyptic pregnancy.

Caveat: I am not a medical professional, midwife, or a doula. I am, however, the mother of two, for whatever that’s worth.

Ready? Let’s begin.

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The evolution of religion

We all know that things will change in the post apocalypse. Even if you’re living under a rock, that rock is going to change (and possibly disintegrate) after the world ends. Aspects of our lives will change. Politics, social structures—all that will change. And…religion will change too. (Possibly not for the better.)

You might be wondering why I’m thinking about religion. It’s because I’m currently taking a religious studies class, which is, unfortunately, full of the ultra-super-conservative types. Also unfortunately, they are driving me freaking insane. And even more unfortunately, it’s only been a week.

Since I had to…I don’t know, share my not-so ultra-super-conservative views with someone, I bugged Ann on Google Talk this morning. Not so she could feel the pain with me (though misery does love company), but so we could discuss how religion might evolve in a post-apocalyptic society.

Because we love you, dear readers, here is an excerpted (and grammatically cleaned up) version of our chat.

*Warning: The following conversation may be considered controversial. But that’s kinda the point.*

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What do you do if your mom is a zombie?

We’ve talked quite a bit about zombie survival. You know, how to keep zombies from invading your settlement, how to keep zombies from chasing you down and eating you, and how to toss those really annoying people who just won’t quit whining over the wall into the zombie encampment. (Well, maybe not that last one. But you know you thought about it.)

But what if the zombie is someone who’s close to you? Maybe someone who’s part of your survival group? Or—gasp—someone who’s part of your family?

And not the annoying great-aunt who gives you tacky reindeer sweaters at Christmas and force-feeds you fruitcake after kissing you while making fishy lips, either. No, we’re talking close relatives here. You know, your mom or dad (if you’re on speaking terms with them), your sibling (ditto), your spouse, or your kids. And what about your best friend? Having your best friend try to attack you and make you lunch just might be worse than watching your mother turn into a brain-eating undead humanoid.

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Don’t get me wrong, having your mother turn into a zombie can also be pretty bad.

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Especially if you’re a kid. Like this little girl here, who wakes up one morning to find that zombies have invaded her town. And instead of making her breakfast, her mother is now trying to have her for breakfast. (Crappy, that.)

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Is it murder or euthanasia?

So. The apocalypse has happened. You and your family—and maybe your friends—have survived the initial apocalyptic event, whatever it happens to be. Now your little group has moved into survival stage. Everyone does what they can to help, to make sure you all make it through the chaos alive.

That’s great, right? Everybody pitches in, and you’ll all live to tell the grandkids what it was like when the world exploded and everybody died (at least until the zombies came knocking).

But what if not everyone in your group can contribute? What if someone’s severely injured, or has a pre-existing debilitating condition like cancer or Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s or epilepsy? Will that person survive for long? Can that person survive for long?

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The apocalypse: a sudden apocalyptic event or a slow decline?

I generally think about the apocalypse happening in one sudden apocalyptic event that takes everyone by surprise. But what if it doesn’t happen that way? What if the apocalypse is a slow, years-long decline?

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After all, in some ways, the fall of the Roman Empire could be considered an apocalyptic event. And the empire’s decline took a long time, since it technically didn’t fall until Constantinople fell in 1453 (though, okay, the Western Roman Empire was in serious decline and almost completely taken over by Germanic tribes by the end of the 5th century).

Anyway. A slow decline or a sudden event—what’s better? Personally, I don’t know. They’ve each got their pros and cons. Let’s go over them quickly, so we can all secretly hope for one kind over the other.

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Your apocalypse survival starter kit

I live in a hurricane zone. Which is fun and all–at least, until a hurricane actually hits. I wasn’t affected by Hurricane Irene, and the only thing we got from Tropical Storm Lee was a bunch of wind and some (much-needed) rain.

So far, we’ve been pretty lucky that way. (Of course, the season’s not over yet.)

With the recent evacuation of much of the American Eastern Seaboard, I thought about my family’s own hurricane evaluation plan. You know, just in case we need it. It didn’t take long to think about, since we don’t actually have a plan in place. (Which will most certainly bite us in the ass should we actually need to run far away from an angry mass of hurricane.)

But that’s beside the point. (And a scenario to which my procrastinating self says, “I’ll cross that washed-out bridge when I get to it.”)

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