So our super romantic night last night, well, wasn't.
Apparently putting all sorts of pressure on yourself to like, make a baby, makes sex into work and not so much fun, and yeah. It just wasn't happening. And even though I'm pretty disappointed, I don't really want the conception of my child to be some sort of drudgery. So it will be okay.
But anyway, there goes this month. Most likely, at least, as I haven't had that spike yet, so in the case Husband is feeling particularly amorous tonight... So probably not. Oh well.
I guess the key here is for us to stop thinking about it and talking about it and just let. it. happen. But the problem here is twofold: First of all, I am me. Talking and thinking about it is what I do. That's what this motherfucking blog is for, after all. And it's not like I could stop if I wanted to. I suppose I could stop talking to Kyle specifically about it, but that lead us to problem numba two: the way our schedules are so irregular and non-overlapping and crazy, if we don't plan in sex, we don't have it very often. So if we just "let it happen," it'll probably happen sometime in 2015. Great.
Right now I don't really know what the plan is. Kyle and I probably need to discuss it more when we're not half naked after really bad sort-of-sex.