Category Archives: Issues. We All Have Issues.
OPK’s are assholes
I'd kill for 2 minutes alone in the bathroom.
Seriously.
Today was the day that I started peeing on ovulation predictor kits.officially. I pee’d on one yesterday, but that was just practice. Like I need it.
Well. Actually I do. Because when I was 21, my abusive ex bullied me into having an abortion, I turned around and had my tubes tied. So, I’m the only infertile I know who doesn’t know how to track my cycle. Sick joke that nature plays on me though? Because my cycles are regular and IF has blessed me with more knowledge then babies, I can tell when I ovulate. That’s extra special knowledge on those cycles when we aren’t cycling.
Like all the ones I have in my future.
Makes me wonder why we just didn’t invest in the reversal. Oh yeah, because we never imagined it would take so many cycles with my good numbers and my regular cycles. Blarg.
Just the Facts, Ma’am.
Just the fact, Ma
I’ve thought on this for a couple days. The stress has subsided enough that the eye twitch has finally subsided. But I still don’t know…. well… it’s just that… oh. balls.
I won’t talk about my older kids often on this blog. They are in their twenties and the have already suffered enough with my “mothering” and don’t need to add “she blogged about me” to their therapy agenda. Plus, thanks to Facebook, at least one of them knows about this blog. Because yes. Even though I was terribly careful not to friend anyone as Dead Cow Girl and with my Family Friendly Account, Facebook still asked my oldest if he wasn’t sure he didn’t know Dead Cow Girl. Uhg. Thanks FuckFaceBook.
So. Just the facts.
Exhibit A: I went to visit The Family for the weekend and to go to my daughter in law’s babyshower. They all live in the same community in The Boobdocks. It’s the same community I lived in with their dad. My abuser. It was a lifetime ago and I generally am well past that… except when I return to that community. It all comes back to me.
Filed under Issues. We All Have Issues., The grandkids
Destination Unknown
Just a tinsy bit lost and confused
Well. This is it. Aunt Flo is here. The husband has had his pre-transfer freak out. The paperwork has been signed. Nothing can stop me from killing these embryos with my uterus. We are looking at doing the transfer on the 30th of January, give or take a couple days, as it is a natural cycle. Then, my TCC days will be behind me. That will be about 10 days after my 43rd birthday.
Oh good lord, how did I get to be so old? In my brain, I’m still the lost, confused, wondering what I’m going to do with myself, girl child who is trying to get her problem skin under control and figure out what to do with her hair.
No. Wait. I’m still all of that. I’m just now doing it in my early 40′s rather then my early 20′s. And now I have a zits on my wrinkles.
Oh, Balls.
Vegas, Baby
Cocktails! Like grown-ups!!
Every year, my Mr goes to CES and I wander around both CES and The Adult Entertainment Expo all day waiting for him to get done working his companies booth, then we go out Into The Night. It’s always been a full week of tech, porno, food, cocktails and very little sleep. This year we had reserved a time share but because Monkey jut started at a new school, and my Mr just started his company, we couldn’t go to CES, but decided that instead of letting the time share go to waste, we would go the weekend before and have one last blow out weekend before I return to my Start Up Widow status and do our last transfer and hopefully, end up pregnant. It would be The Last Alcohol Fueled Hurrah.
Lasagna so good it made me weep. All Hail Mario Batali!
Filed under Issues. We All Have Issues.
Goal for 2012? Not to be mocked by my wii fit. Again.
PEP vitamins will help me unpack! Do they still sell those?
Last year, my goal was to be decent to myself. Coming off 2010 and my miscarriage at 12 weeks, a failed FET, a failed fresh cycle, and my Mr being let go of his job of 8 years, it was about all I could muster.
I wanted to start exercising – mainly because my wii-fit had mocked me. This year, I pulled the wii-fit out for my yearly check in, replaced the batteries that had started to ooze from neglect and stepped on. It made a grunty noise, but seems to think that I’ve lost a pound. Over the course of the last year.
I totally call that a win! Actually, losing a pound while doing a round of IVF and then a FET and getting pregnant and miscarrying is sort of a win. A sad, sad win.
Filed under Issues. We All Have Issues., Trying To Breed
Bloody Christmas Sweaters
Hey Dummy!
I just don’t get people who don’t take care of themselves. I don’t mean those of us who need to eat less, or exercise more, or perhaps cut back on the yummy cocktails. I’m talking about people who are just plain self destructive. I think we were all a little self destructive when we are teens. We pushed limits and explore our surroundings and revel in the feeling of being indestructible. Most people grow out of that in their 20′s. A few not till their 30′s. And then there are a few people, like my MIL, age 68, who are still pretty sure they are indestructible.
My brain knows its a disease, but my heart hurts to watch her destroy herself.
Filed under Issues. We All Have Issues.
Dear Santa
Dear Santa
Dear Santa Claus, How have you been? Did you have a nice summer? How is your wife? I have been extra good this year, so I have a long list of presents that I want.
Actually, unlike Sally Brown, I have not at all been extra good this year, but I only want one thing.
A baby.
A cute little screaming all day and keeping me up all night, pooping up it’s back into it’s onsie when we are out running errands without a back up, spitting up down the front of me, pulling it’s brothers hair and drooling on his favorite toys (sorry Monkey. Someday you will understand.) baby.
I’m not picky as to the color, size or sex. Healthy would be nice. And I know it might be a rush order to have it in my stocking Christmas morning, so I’m totally OK if you get it to me later in the year.
Filed under Issues. We All Have Issues.
Manapan; Sex as a Fancy Tool
I'll use my tool, if you use yours. And by your tool? I mean the lawn mower.
This is a guest post from Manapan. If you would like to be part of my The Other Women series and write about your sexual identity, contact me! Your story can be silly, sexy or sad. There is no normal and all points of view are invited to join.
My early life was one long lesson in not trusting men. I’m the daughter of a single mother who quit dating once she found out I was on the way. I sat through the beatings from my grandfather and watched him do the same to my cousins. Watched as my uncles beat my aunts and cousins. Watched as my friends’ dads beat them. I was molested in day care for a year. I used to spend the night at my best friend’s house solely because her dad didn’t have the guts to molest her or her sisters as long as I was there. That same friend and I later narrowly escaped an attempt at gang rape and murder. And the only reason I, unlike many of my friends, didn’t barter my body to the neighborhood pedophile was because I knew I’d never be able to come up with a good lie to tell my mom about where I got the Nintendo he was going to give me for services rendered.
Filed under Issues. We All Have Issues., The Other Women
Cuckolding
I expect this house to be spic 'n span by the time I get home from my date!
You know, I like you as a person. You make a great father and a fabulous husband. I really enjoy spending time with you. It’s just one thing. I don’t like having sex with you. You just don’t turn me on. Your cock is too small and you just really don’t know how to use it. And you know what? I hate the way you go down on me. And giving you a blow job makes me feel like I’m molesting a small boy. I need a real man, with a real cock. And realistically, my sex drive is SO much higher then yours that it just makes sense for me to take on a lover. Or maybe two. And lets face it. I’m much hotter a woman then you EVER thought you would get, so I’m thinking you will be ok with this. I’m sure you will be happy with what ever little sweet morsels of affection I dole out to you, won’t you pet? I’m thinking this will be a lot easier on you if I lock your cock away in a chastity belt so you won’t have to worry about that useless little thing bothering you. Now be a good little man and pick out some lingerie for me to wear tonight on my date. Make sure it’s super sexy! I want to get fucked HARD!
