I HATE Fantasy Football. I hate it. Seriously, I wish it would crawl into a hole and die a slow painful death by being forced to watch 17 football games at once until the end of time.

Now before all the haters start lining up to punch me in the throat, let me just make it clear – I’m a football fan. I really am. I love football. I love actual football. Like the kind with real teams and coaches and grit and determination. I like underdogs and comebacks and unlikely heroes. None of which exist in fantasy football. Or on the Buffalo Bills, as it turns out.

But anyway, this concept seems to be very difficult for my husband and my dad and just about every other “fantasy addicted” person I know to understand. So let me put it this way:

Imagine your wife came home one day and told you that she needed you to watch the kids for, oh, I don’t know, like 5 hours on Sunday night because she has her Fantasy Bachelor draft.

You begrudgingly agree, without realizing that this also means you will need to put the kids to bed Monday-Saturday night so she can participate in “mock drafts,” which require the TV to be tuned into “The Bachelor” for hours at a time. But not the real Bachelor, it’s actually a pre-show called “Leading Up to the Final Rose” where former contestants and C-list celebrities chat about which girl they think is likeliest to get drunk and pass out during the first rose ceremony.

Finally, your wife’s roster is filled with bachelorettes that she only “owns” in the imaginary sense, but paid actual money for (anywhere from $20-$500 per league + $100 for the Bachelor Pad Prime Pass from DirectTV so she can watch a live feed of the Bachelor mansion 24/7) and you think you can go back to life as usual until at least next Sunday.

WRONG.

Wednesday night is devoted to Bachelor Podcasts, Thursday morning she’s approving trades and feverishly picking up new girls off the “waif(er) wire.” Then Thursday night (from 5-8pm) she is tweaking her line-up and obsessing over every detail of her imaginary bachelorettes. (“OMG, Gisele brought her chihuahua named Snickerdoodle, do you think they’ll let her go to the cocktail party? And what about Kendall – her eyes are looking super puffy, maybe I should send Ashley to the rose ceremony instead?”)

Then forget about sexy time on Thursday night, because she’s glued to the TV, watching a Bachelor Pad Insider episode that involves exactly zero bachelorettes she cares about – except that they’re on her Fantasy team. None of the bachelorettes on her team are even going on dates this week, but there are a couple clips of them arguing under the staircase so she’s watching the entire episode anyway.

Then Sunday rolls around and you know you’re in for entire day of Bachelor Madness, but at least the girl you kind of like is supposed to be in a mud wrestling competition at 1pm, so that won’t be so bad.

HAHAHA.

You thought you were going to be able to watch ONE episode all the way through? Amateur! Your wife is flipping through channels faster than a two year old on catnip, tracking stats on girls, outfits, social media scores and bra sizes. The one bachelorette you actually kind of like is going on a 1-on-1 date after the next commercial, but too bad for you because some rando that almost got kicked off last week is having a meltdown out by the pool and your wife switched the channel to get the behind-the-scenes coverage.

Monday night is a repeat of Thursday and shockingly, your wife has yet to win back any of the money she spent on the draft.

Now repeat for 5 months straight.

Sounds awful, doesn’t it?

You see, Fantasy Football sucks all the fun out of football. Instead of a once a week for a couple hours activity that you can enjoy as a family (you know, dress the kids up, root for the home team) – it’s become a 4(or more)-day a week obsession that requires more management than a professional stock portfolio and costs almost as much.

It means you can’t actually cheer for a team. You have to cheer for individual players, who play on different teams, usually against each other making it impossible to actually cheer for anyone.

It means you can’t just watch one game at a time and get emotionally involved – you have to watch 4 or more games at once, trying to keep straight who’s on offense and who got arrested and who’s in the bathroom deflating game balls.

It means you can’t even fucking cheer when your team scores because they ran it in and the quarterback is on your husband’s Fantasy team and he needed him to throw it.

Fuck that.

Call me old or boring or lame or whatever – but can we please go back to watching actual football, and not some stupid score ticker on FanDuel.com?

Please.

Or else I’m going to start a Fantasy Bachelor league and you will all be VERY, VERY sorry.

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On a brighter note, here’s an 18.5 week update and some pictures of Mia at gymnastics class 🙂

How far along? 18(and a half) weeks

Total weight gain: 5lbs
Maternity clothes? um, yeah
Sleep: Better but somehow I still manage to feel tired ALL THE TIME
Best moment this week: going apple picking with my mom and Mia on the first fall-feeling day in Maine
Miss Anything? feeling energized
Movement: Yep. Although it’s a blessing and curse because there were a few days this week I didn’t feel anything and of course sent myself into a legit panic. Kicking is back, though, feeling better now.
Food cravings: Same as last week, coffee and apple crisp (not together, although I’m not opposed to it)
Anything making you queasy or sick: Not really, but now that cold and flu season is here I’m just waiting for us to get hit.
Gender: We find out on Tuesday…this week is taking forever to go by!
Labor Signs: Thankfully no, lots of pinches, though, when I bend over or stand up too fast.
Symptoms: Exhaustion.
Belly Button in or out? In, for now.
Wedding rings on or off? On.
Happy or Moody most of the time: Tired.
Looking forward to: Finding out if I get to reuse all of Mia’s overpriced fashion items, or if I need to purchase new ones 😉