shadowmask
First Post
NOTE: Sorry for the delay, everyone. This is the first instance I've been able to post anything. Please enjoy a very late, yet still here, Family Gamers article.
Gamers come in all types and genres. We have our social gamers, roll-playing gamers, role-playing gamers, serious gamers and party gamers. We have familial gamers, show-up-and-play gamers, only-see-you-once-a-week gamers and we're-playing-again-tomorrow gamers. We have our rules lawyers, munchkins, drama llamas and others. Then, there's the Pregnant Gamer.
This gamer is always female, If not, check your eyeglass prescription or sell the story to the National Enquirer. She may be round or bumpy. She may be tear, sleepy or grumpy. She may be all seven of Snow White's dwarfs any night of the week. Take out a life insurance policy just in case - on the group's obnoxious loudmouth, not Ms. Eating-for-Two. If you are the group's obnoxious loudmouth, bend over and kiss those cheeks good-bye; they'll be gone within three to nine months depending on her hormones.
Speaking of eating...Never, and I mean never, come between a pregnant woman and her food. By the same notion, do not come between a pregnant woman and the bathroom, character sheet, dice or throat of the unborn child's father when he has put his foot in his mouth. Doing so puts you at risk of serious bodily harm or a guilt-trip the like of which you haven't experienced since moving out of your mom's house.
Remember, a pregnant woman is vulnerable, psycho, emotional, loving, terrifying and quite capable of ripping some jerk's anatomy right of the offender's body. By the way, her defense will win in court.
Wait. That might've been me.
In any case, the real information your group needs follows. A pregnant gamer's hearing may be impaired. For example, when explaining a new mechanic, such as initiative when D&D 3.0 was new, be certain to enunciate your words very carefully. If you do not, or her hearing is particularly compromised, adding the character's Dex modifier may suddenly become "My character's WHAT is on fire?!"
When the requisite cackling, guffawing and outright falling out of the chair laughing settles and everyone's face returns to a slightly more normal hue, explain again, this time enunciating very carefully. All those hormones tend to clog up the syanpses so it may take her a moment to figure out why what she said was so funny. Her question was perfectly logical, after all. My suggestion, just roll with it.
If your group's pregnant gamer seems to fall victim to the Sandman more often than usual, don't worry. The unborn child, energy-sapping vampire that it is, causes sudden boughts of narcolepsy. That chainsaw sound you hear when it's her turn to roll the dice is the air passing through constricted airways, courtesy of Baby-to-Be. Be polite when Ms. Pregnant comes to and don't mention she reminded you of that old horror movie set in Texas. She may laugh. She may cry. Or she may throw the nearest sharp object at your head. Only after you're sitting in the ER and the doc asks how you got a mechanical pencil stuck in the middle of your forehead like a dart will you figure out she paid extra for the Point Blank Shot and Precise Shot feats.
If you are the GM, a word to the wise. Do not, under any circumstances, taek the pregnant gamer's now-dead character's sheet and rip, crumple or trash it. This is a time for grieving, and if she doesn't get her chance, you will be met with wide eyes and a river of tears. Those tears will be the angry kind, not the sad kind. Remember, dice bags make excellent saps. She only needs to catch you alone to elucidate you on that particular bit of trivia; usually by beating you about the head and shoulders with her over-stuffed dice bag until you cry "Mommy!!"
Moving on to the physical stages of pre- and post-Mommyhood. In the pre-bump stage of the gamer's pregnancy, do not comment on the amount she is eating or the retching sounds emanating from the lavatory. Doing so will beget tears, again with the tears, if you're lucky and harpy screeches complete with ripping your heart out with her claws if you're not. Again, hormones are a fool-proof defense in a court of law. Instead, take heart that the plate of fresh-out-of-the-stove brownies she scarfed in ten seconds flat will make its dissatisfaction with her lack of savoring known in short order.
The fun truly begins, though, after the neonate takes its first breaths in this world. Generally speaking, no one except those brave or foolhardy enough to poke into the post-partum's den will see the new person (nominally speaking) until the cone head as rounded somewhat. Unless you're family, in which case you better call and go over.
When you see the now Not-Pregnant Gamer, you will goggle at the changes. Synapses that were simply misfiring are now liquefying at an astonishing rate. She has forgotten all the tips and tricks every gamer learns: assessing the best chip for the dip or how to chug the soda she just opened so no one accidentally drinks it for her. For some reason, this same neural meltdown will be accompanied by an amazing capacity to multi-task. Rolling dice while feeding baby? No problem. Remembering what to add to the die roll? Major problem.
Then there's the cleaning bills to go with the little chap and his darling mama. Infants are part dragon. Oh, sure, they don't have scales, unless you count cradle cap, or fangs, until they teeth. It's worse. Much. Worse.
They have a breath weapon. Mama gamer won't tell you that her darling tyke has one. It's sour milk, even if the kid drinks a specialty, non-dairy formula. This breath weapon causes nausea on a failed Fortitude save, and believe me, you will fail that sucker. It requires an instant change, which Mama gamer happens to have in her diaper bag of holding. The little monster can spew this stuff a distance equal to three times his body length, and don't let mama tell you otherwise.
Fret not. If nothing else, someone in your gaming group will also have a little tyke. At this point, Mama Gamer1 will suffer the same indignities as you suffered during her bout of Prego/Post-Partum. Then again, you may have to suffer through two Mama Gamers comparing notes on how best to compensate for their Gamers-in-Training lack of social skills. You'd best beef up on your fantasy sports or the latest and greatest in gaming. You'll need it.
*Disclaimer (aka save vs flambe): All circumstances, except those requiring a lawyer, described above happened to me and my group at some point.
Gamers come in all types and genres. We have our social gamers, roll-playing gamers, role-playing gamers, serious gamers and party gamers. We have familial gamers, show-up-and-play gamers, only-see-you-once-a-week gamers and we're-playing-again-tomorrow gamers. We have our rules lawyers, munchkins, drama llamas and others. Then, there's the Pregnant Gamer.
This gamer is always female, If not, check your eyeglass prescription or sell the story to the National Enquirer. She may be round or bumpy. She may be tear, sleepy or grumpy. She may be all seven of Snow White's dwarfs any night of the week. Take out a life insurance policy just in case - on the group's obnoxious loudmouth, not Ms. Eating-for-Two. If you are the group's obnoxious loudmouth, bend over and kiss those cheeks good-bye; they'll be gone within three to nine months depending on her hormones.
Speaking of eating...Never, and I mean never, come between a pregnant woman and her food. By the same notion, do not come between a pregnant woman and the bathroom, character sheet, dice or throat of the unborn child's father when he has put his foot in his mouth. Doing so puts you at risk of serious bodily harm or a guilt-trip the like of which you haven't experienced since moving out of your mom's house.
Remember, a pregnant woman is vulnerable, psycho, emotional, loving, terrifying and quite capable of ripping some jerk's anatomy right of the offender's body. By the way, her defense will win in court.
Wait. That might've been me.
In any case, the real information your group needs follows. A pregnant gamer's hearing may be impaired. For example, when explaining a new mechanic, such as initiative when D&D 3.0 was new, be certain to enunciate your words very carefully. If you do not, or her hearing is particularly compromised, adding the character's Dex modifier may suddenly become "My character's WHAT is on fire?!"
When the requisite cackling, guffawing and outright falling out of the chair laughing settles and everyone's face returns to a slightly more normal hue, explain again, this time enunciating very carefully. All those hormones tend to clog up the syanpses so it may take her a moment to figure out why what she said was so funny. Her question was perfectly logical, after all. My suggestion, just roll with it.
If your group's pregnant gamer seems to fall victim to the Sandman more often than usual, don't worry. The unborn child, energy-sapping vampire that it is, causes sudden boughts of narcolepsy. That chainsaw sound you hear when it's her turn to roll the dice is the air passing through constricted airways, courtesy of Baby-to-Be. Be polite when Ms. Pregnant comes to and don't mention she reminded you of that old horror movie set in Texas. She may laugh. She may cry. Or she may throw the nearest sharp object at your head. Only after you're sitting in the ER and the doc asks how you got a mechanical pencil stuck in the middle of your forehead like a dart will you figure out she paid extra for the Point Blank Shot and Precise Shot feats.
If you are the GM, a word to the wise. Do not, under any circumstances, taek the pregnant gamer's now-dead character's sheet and rip, crumple or trash it. This is a time for grieving, and if she doesn't get her chance, you will be met with wide eyes and a river of tears. Those tears will be the angry kind, not the sad kind. Remember, dice bags make excellent saps. She only needs to catch you alone to elucidate you on that particular bit of trivia; usually by beating you about the head and shoulders with her over-stuffed dice bag until you cry "Mommy!!"
Moving on to the physical stages of pre- and post-Mommyhood. In the pre-bump stage of the gamer's pregnancy, do not comment on the amount she is eating or the retching sounds emanating from the lavatory. Doing so will beget tears, again with the tears, if you're lucky and harpy screeches complete with ripping your heart out with her claws if you're not. Again, hormones are a fool-proof defense in a court of law. Instead, take heart that the plate of fresh-out-of-the-stove brownies she scarfed in ten seconds flat will make its dissatisfaction with her lack of savoring known in short order.
The fun truly begins, though, after the neonate takes its first breaths in this world. Generally speaking, no one except those brave or foolhardy enough to poke into the post-partum's den will see the new person (nominally speaking) until the cone head as rounded somewhat. Unless you're family, in which case you better call and go over.
When you see the now Not-Pregnant Gamer, you will goggle at the changes. Synapses that were simply misfiring are now liquefying at an astonishing rate. She has forgotten all the tips and tricks every gamer learns: assessing the best chip for the dip or how to chug the soda she just opened so no one accidentally drinks it for her. For some reason, this same neural meltdown will be accompanied by an amazing capacity to multi-task. Rolling dice while feeding baby? No problem. Remembering what to add to the die roll? Major problem.
Then there's the cleaning bills to go with the little chap and his darling mama. Infants are part dragon. Oh, sure, they don't have scales, unless you count cradle cap, or fangs, until they teeth. It's worse. Much. Worse.
They have a breath weapon. Mama gamer won't tell you that her darling tyke has one. It's sour milk, even if the kid drinks a specialty, non-dairy formula. This breath weapon causes nausea on a failed Fortitude save, and believe me, you will fail that sucker. It requires an instant change, which Mama gamer happens to have in her diaper bag of holding. The little monster can spew this stuff a distance equal to three times his body length, and don't let mama tell you otherwise.
Fret not. If nothing else, someone in your gaming group will also have a little tyke. At this point, Mama Gamer1 will suffer the same indignities as you suffered during her bout of Prego/Post-Partum. Then again, you may have to suffer through two Mama Gamers comparing notes on how best to compensate for their Gamers-in-Training lack of social skills. You'd best beef up on your fantasy sports or the latest and greatest in gaming. You'll need it.
*Disclaimer (aka save vs flambe): All circumstances, except those requiring a lawyer, described above happened to me and my group at some point.
