Around we go.

Husband and I had a lovely anniversary date. We got very dressed up, and my hair behaved, and we had a wonderful seven course French dinner. I did receive a rather unpleasant early anniversary gift: my period. I guess it was nice that it allowed me to have a cocktail with the meal, but we all know I would happily have given that up if we had also been celebrating my pregnancy.

But we're not. Again. I realize that I've only been off birth control for two months and that we're not even trying, but... UUUGGGGHHHHH. Besides that I'm still feeling totally thrown off guard by the whole menstruation thing, I'm so disappointed. Which is stupid, I'm sure.

I want a baby, and I want to be pregnant, so badly. My sister, for whatever probably selfish reason, tries to convince me to wait until next year, and I try, but ultimately fail to communicate how all-encompassing this desire is.

There is only one other time I can think of that my brain was overtaken in this way. Back when Husband and I first met, he lived all the way across the country from me in Ohio. We were so young, and so we were not exactly wealthy, and our visits together were months and months apart. And in the week or so leading up the a visit with him, I could think of nothing else.  I certainly couldn't concentrate in school. And my daydreams weren't limited to just the immediate agenda of the time we would spend together that coming weekend, but also his inevitable move to Seattle to be with me and what our first apartment would look like and when we would get married and our wedding and our babies... See, I've always been this nuts.

Fortunately, the daydreams that consume me are mostly good. Actually they are mostly amazing. How I will feel when those two lines appear. How I will announce the news to my husband, my family, my boss, my friends. My adorable growing belly. Feeling the baby move. Giving it a name, and painting the nursery. (Nevermind that we are renters and probably won't be allowed to paint the murals I am imagining.)  Sometimes I daydream about my softly lit gentle homebirth, or bonding during those first breastfeeding sessions, and taking a nap on the couch with baby on my chest. Perhaps I have a toddler, and we are picking flowers in the backyard. I imagine a second pregnancy, and explaining a new baby to my first. It's all very wonderful and magical and so easy to get lost in. I love getting lost.

But sometimes my daydreams turn dark. Why hasn't it happened yet? Let's ignore that it's only been two months and that WE'RE NOT EVEN TRYING YET. Do not distract me with logic. Regardless, we've done the appropriate things around what I thought was the appropriate time. And still., no dice. The other day, Husband and I were grabbing a quick lunch at Wendy's (classy, I know), and these thoughts all came flooding over me. What if? What if there's something wrong with me? What if there's something wrong with him? What if we can't get pregnant? What if we need help? What if we can't afford it?

"What if?" I asked him. All of my worst fears came spilling out onto the table, mingling with the chicken nuggets. He assured me it will be fine. But what if it's not? What if we need help? He tells me we will get help. But what about the money? I start quoting figures I am pulling out of remembered blog posts and/or my ass. He says we will find a way. I am ridiculous. I love my husband.

I am back to the happy daydreams today. I wish they would cut it out, though, so I can start packing.

Two.

Today Husband and I have been married for two years. In August it will have been six since we met. There is nothing in my world that exists except for in relation to him. And I don't mean that in a pathetic, I have no interests or hobbies of my own kind of way, but rather that even when he's not here and I'm doing something completely unrelated to him or our relationship he is still there with me.

There are a lot of people who ask about marriage  "why bother?"  Why don't we just keep on keepin' on? Why do we have to make a big deal out of it? The legal aspects are neither here nor there (although they are nice). And it's not about all the pomp and circumstance of a big wedding. It's the total commitment of yourself to your partner for life. And that's so much more than just love.

When Husband and I got married I knew that I was ready to make this commitment, and I that I wanted to be with him forever and that I wanted for him to be my family and the father to my children. But still, I had no idea how this would change our relationship. It's hard to describe the difference. The subtle permanence of us permeates everything now. I could never have predicted the comfort and ease of just knowing. Knowing what, I'm not even sure, but it's there, in the background, behind everything that I do and think and feel. And it is amazing.

Husband is not the perfect man. He's not the perfect husband.  I imagine that some of my acquaintances think that my marriage is doomed to fail based on the anecdotes I share with them.  He is irritating and messy and I'm needy and we fight and complain about each other. But it is all superficial. Underlying all of the imperfection is something special that I cannot describe, but I can feel it, all the time, and I know everything is going to be okay.

Patience

I am absolutely no good at waiting. I want to be pregnant NOOWWW. Which is especially stupid since we aren't even officially trying yet.

Today is cycle day 29. No sign of period. Negative test yesterday.  My theoretical ovulation (based on cervical fluidity, because I'm not temping) was in the middle of happy vacation sex fest, but I'm thinking that perhaps it was delayed based on travel and travel and rollercoasters and alcohol and travel. Since underpants are getting all slimy again. (Sorry.)  But still. Ugh.

I think if I don't end up pregnant this go-round I'm going to try and start temping. I'm not sure if it will actually be at all enlightening since my waking times vary between 3:30 am, and, uh... a lot later than that.  So we'll see. But hopefully it won't come to that and I'll be pregnant and everything will be rainbows and unicorns.



In other news we signed the lease on our new place yesterday, and we'll be moving in some time next week. I'm relieved that its out of the way, but now... packing. Hopefully it won't be too bad.

No actual content, but...

WE GOT THE PLACE!!!!

My legitimate thoughts on this later.

Movement

I have a love hate relationship with moving. In the last six years I have moved eight times. Some of those times were uncomplicated in-and-out of dorm room type things, but also included was moving both mine and Husband's apartments into our new place just before our wedding. Without his help because he was having his birthday/bachelor party.  Mmhmm.

Recently I have been moving every time my least has been up. It isn't always something I can avoid. Moving in with my new husband was important, and there's not so much you can do when one of your roommates completely loses her mind and moves to South Carolina and you can't really afford the whole place with just three people.

And here we are again. Our lease is up this month, and our roommate decided he wants to move out and live alone for the first time in a long time, and more power to him. But that means we have to leave too.  Which is very sad, because I love our place and it would be perfect for a small family with a baby or two, but if we could afford this whole place on our own we wouldn't have been living with roommates for the last two years. And good god do I ever hate searching for rentals. I'm beyond over crappy apartments with crappy beige walls and crappy carpeting and crappy Formica kitchen counters surrounding crappy stove tops and crappy tiny stackable washer/dryer--if they even have laundry at all. Not to mention the crappy teeny weeny bedrooms that barely fit my king size mattress, much less any of my clothing. And ever these crappy places are barely within my crappy budget. Or they won't allow pets. It's too bad I would lose my mind living in a cheaper city.

Still, we have things to look forward to. This will be the first time Husband and I have lived alone since we broke up in 2007, and certainly since we've been married. I have really enjoyed having roommates, but I'm excited for us to really start creating our own family. And I love the purging of stuff that comes along with moving. I've always been a saver, but in the last few years I've been fighting against my impulses to save things that I maybe might need some day. I'm only planning to move the stuff that we really need or want with us, and start off again fresh. I'm excited to redecorate. We have had the same horrible beige IKEA couch since Husband moved to Seattle, and it is ugly and lumpy and has been spilled upon and stained and torn up be cats. It'll probably have to come with us, but I plan to replace it as soon as possible.

We looked at a place the other night and I am in love. It's imperfect, of course, but it has all the intangibles that make me happy, and anyone who knows me knows that my living space can greatly affect my mood. Husband picked up the application documents today... My heart is in my teeth and I am so anxious to apply and be accepted and pay our deposit and get to packing and I fear something will go horribly wrong even though there is no reason for me to think that. At the same time I have already completely planned where all of the furniture will go and what coffee table I am going to buy (this one, if you're interested), and I'm already plotting what sort of baked goods I will bring when I introduce myself to my new neighbors with a beautiful baby... I always get like this when I move. Or when I plan anything. I am a daydreamer, for sure. Please cross your fingers for me. I promise if good things happen for us I will post a zillion pictures and a detailed description and what-have-you, but right now I feel like putting my ridiculous plans into words might jinx it.

I'm Back!

Back in Seattle and from vacation. Well, technically I am still on vacation until tomorrow because I am very smart and requested myself an extra day off of work.

This trip was simply wonderful. This was the first vacation I've taken since I've been promoted to full-time at work, and have exciting things like paid vacation, and not having to worry about being broke when I get home is fantastic and amazing.

The rest of the trip was pretty good also. I'm generally not ever super excited to visit Ohio or to hang out with my in-laws, but maybe I'm getting older or things are mellowing out or maybe it's that I'm finally had enough visits to really get to know them all enough to actually enjoy spending time with them. I don't know, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Chicago was fun. We were only there for the last two days, but I haven't seen my middle brother in law since right after we go married, and this was the first time I met his boyfriend. It was nice, especially since last year we got in a big stupid fight over email, so just having fun together was relieving.

It was even better being in Cleveland again. And I can't believe I'm saying, er, typing that. But seriously. First of all, family. Husband's extended family is well, completely overwhelming, but so welcoming and exuberant.  And he has two adorable eight year old girls for cousins (and like 30 others, age 5 to about 30), and they love me and are so excited to see me and want me to braid their hair (poorly) and offered to pay the fifty cents for me to play arcade games with them. And did I mention they are adorable? And Irish and freckled and adorable.  My youngest cousin is something like 20 years old and I know so few people with kids, and oh. my. god.  I'm pretty sure that this particular variety of adoration that has been bestowed upon me is reserved for "special occasion people". You know, the cool not-really-your-aunt that you only see twice a year and buys you your first eyeshadow palate when you are eleven. But still, I just can't get enough. And watching Husband interact with his little cousins killed me. Want. Want want want want.

The second amazing thing about Ohio was Husband's friends. First of all, Husband's best friend C... how do I even explain this. No one in the entire world, not even myself, can make Husband as happy as C does. Even just anticipating spending time with C, Husband's eyes get all twinkly and glittery, and I'm not even jealous because I love seeing him and C together. His wife L says that C is the same way. Amazing. And the rest of his friends are so much fun, too. They all have wives and girlfriends, and a group of couples is something we're so missing here in Seattle. And even though I've only met some of them a few times, and a for a few it was our first meeting, they never have made me felt like the new girl and I just jump right into the festivities.

I started feeling so guilty that Husband moved here for me away from all these people that he loves, even though he wanted to move anyway and how he always tells me he's glad he's here and so I offered to move back to Ohio if he ever wanted, even though I kind of hate Ohio because watching him be so happy with his friends back home just melts my heart. He of course thinks I am crazy so home we are, for good.

I am feeling extremely happy and relaxed and in love right now.

P.S. We had sex four times and only one fight on vacation. I'm pretty sure that is a record. Definitely a better ratio than our honeymoon.

From the road.

Husband and I are back at his parents' house in Cleveland now.  We're staying in the basement in a couple of twin beds pushed together. Kind of sad and unromantic, although I kind if enjoy having my very own blanket.  I brought my insect collecting equipment with me, so maybe I can acquire such exotic specimens as cicadas and fireflies.

Last night we went out with Husband's best friend C and his wife L to some carnival in a neighboring Cleveland suburb, and it was nice.  I love it when Husband gets to see C. He gets so happy and exciting just talking about reuniting, and his eyes get all glittery in anticipation.  It is amazing, really.  I'm actually really enjoying being here, as I haven't seen any of Husband's family and friends since we were here right after we got married, almost two years ago.  C and L are throwing a party with a bonfire for us on Friday night, and in the meantime I am enjoying the opportunity to relax and do nothing.

I think that's all for now, as I'm typing on Husband's tiny netbook, and he wants it back, and I hate mashing my fingers on this itty bitty keyboard anyway.  

Vacation!

Hey friends! I'm posting from an air conditioned high-rise condo in downtown Chicago. My in-laws rented a unit here for this past week, and Husband and I joined them, his two little brothers, and their significant others yesterday. Tomorrow we are driving back to Cleveland with his parents and spending the week visiting the rest of his family and friends.

I'm so glad to be on vacation. Work has been out of control stressful, and BFF got married the night before we left, and that ended up being a big snafu. There is much more than I care to write on my iPhone, but I promise big updates when we return to Seattle.

What do I win?

I keep my feminine hygiene products in an intricately hand carved South African breadbox.

My flow has slowed to something more bearable, so I am keeping up with things and not surprise! bleeding all over everything. I guess this is manageable, but I hate hate hate it. I feel like I am going through puberty again, and decidedly not in a good way. As if there could be a good way.

It is probably ridiculous, and possibly pathetic that a woman my age is writing at such length about menstruation, but I find it taking over my thoughts in the same way it did when I was barely a teenager, certain that everyone could tell, paranoid about bleeding all over my jeans.

It doesn't help that I'm getting over a cold/flu/monkey Ebola, so that every time I cough or sneeze I can feel a spurt of blood being forced out. Disgusting. I don't want to do this anymore.

Cycle one, day two: please kill me now.

Did I mention that I am on my period? Did I also mention that this is the first period I have experienced that hasn't been induced or mediated or averted by the use of artificial hormones since I was seventeen years old? I know that I am in no position to complain about, well, anything, but what. the. hell? Who decided that bleeding from the vagina was a good idea?

Okay, so, when I was about to start seventh grade and I got my period for the first time, I thought I was an old hand because my mom had already had the talk with me, and I had my own special little stash of junior sized maxi pads in my bathroom, so I just put one in my panties and went about my business and didn't make a fuss about it. Well, little did I know, but apparently one pad all day wasn't going to cut it...

That is how I feel today. Back when I was on the pill my periods were significantly reduced, and I only really ever even had to change a pad because it had been there for a while and that was gross because I never soaked them. And then after I got my IUD inserted my period came, oh, once every never, and I tended to catch it with either the thinnest of panty liners, or just say fuck it and wash my underpants out at the end of the day because it was less of a pain than bothering with feminine hygiene products. Especially when it was only for two days or so.

But what is happening to me now is unholy. I managed to soak through both a tampon and panty liner this morning at work, and my skirt managed to remain unscathed only because my job sucks and I never ever ever get a chance to sit down. And there are cramps! Cramps that are made worse by tampons, which I now remember why I hate, but what I hate more than tampons is that sweaty bloody stinky vag feeling I get from a pad and having to wear unattractive pad-accommodating underpants and WHY ME, GOD?

I suppose I should be happy that I am building up a beefy, embryo-nurturing endometrial lining, and I am, but I would like it to just do it's god damned job and catch a baby so that I don't have to endure this bullshit again for as long as I can manage to extend lactational amenorrhea. Don't you know I will try.

BLOOD!

In my underpants! Huzzah!

Finallyfinallyfinally!!! It's insane to me that I am so excited to be confirmedly not pregnant, but I'm relieved to be in a place where I know where I am in my cycle and what I can expect going forward and when I can ever realistically worry about whether or not I am pregnant. So I guess this is cycle one, day one. I'm going to start charting CM, but BBT I just can't do because of how erratic my schedule is. When you wake up at 3:30am one day, and 8:00 the next... well, it's just not consistent. Maybe I will try anyway. Just to see.

Technically I'm still just spotting, though, so I couldn't help but google "implantation bleeding". Of course.

Where am I?

I still have no idea what is going on. I took tests every morning in Eugene, I got three negatives, two duds, and one inconclusive, but not in that order. And another negative when I got home. But my period hasn't shown up either. This means I'm not ovulating. This is bad. Lady Doctor said that with my IUD I was still cycling, so my cycle should be normal right away. I hope this isn't normal for me. It's been more than a month and ... nothing.

At this point what I want is just for my period to show up, so at least I can be charting and figure out WTF is going on in my body.

Oh, disappointment...

So far, two negative pregnancy tests. I don't know that this really means anything, as I am only 12 days past ovulation, that is, if I actually ovulated at all. Who knows. Since I haven't had a regular cycle in oh, seven years or so, I don't know how long mine is, or when I should be expecting my period, so I suppose I will just keep testing everyday until I get a positive or start bleeding.

For the couple days before I started testing I was so sure that I would be, and now... I'm thinking no way. Logically I know that nothing has changed and I still could be and its so early and I could wake up tomorrow and get a positive... but I'm not feeling optimistic.



I would really like to know something in the next two days, though. Good news or bad. I'm going down with my parents and BFF to sister's college graduation, and I really don't want to be in this limbo while I'm on vacation. For one, I wouldn't have to abstain from all the fun (read: alcohol), or at least I would have a good reason to do so. It will come in to question, I am sure, and I don't want to have to tell my family that I could be pregnant and it is too early to tell, because that is a can of worms that just doesn't need to be explored.

I'm not sure what the plan is for the weekend if I don't find anything out before I leave. I'd like to keep testing throughout, but I'm not sure how I feel about the logistics of this in sister's tiny apartment. And if I get good news, well... do I wait to tell husband in person and then maybe he isn't the first to know? Do I call him? Do I try to keep it a secret? (Clearly, no, since I am terrible at secrets.) I don't know. I asked husband what he wanted me to do and he said he doesn't mind if I have to call him or if someone else finds out first, but I have this romantic vision of it all. I'll probably bring a ton of tests with me and decide when I get there. Or maybe I will find out tomorrow. God, I hope so.



Honestly, it surprises me how badly I feel about possibly not being pregnant. We certainly weren't "trying," and really, the timing for me is less than ideal. I thought I knew how badly I wanted this, but even I am shocked by my longing. Earlier I was looking at Facebook pictures of husband's friend's month-old twins and just... I can't even put it into words.

Please please please please please.

Maybe? Maybe! Maybe.

Still waiting. Oh, God, I am so bad at waiting. Everything is a possible symptom, and every moment I don't feel like barfing makes me doubt myself. I am not very good at this game. I think half the reason I want to be pregnant right now is so that I don't have to go through this again next cycle. And we're not even "trying" yet. Although I may be incapable of not trying, as I can't ignore my fertility signs and I can't not think about the possibility...

Husband is being really great. I told him that I thought I might be, and now he asks me all the time "if I am still pregnant." Cute. Answer range from "probably" and "I think so" to "I don't know" and "no way!".  Even though he hasn't actually said as much, I think he really wants me to be pregnant. Why else would he ask me about it twice a day? Never before has he ever brought up pregnancy or babies with me, and usually tries to change the subject when I do. Exciting.

I think I am going to start testing tomorrow.

Waiting Sucks.

So early pregnancy symptoms are my bread and butter. Today I woke up with really bad nausea. I have had my own variety of "morning sickness" (which actually tends to occur in the mornings, instead of possibly all day like in pregnancy) since my teen years. I can smell EVERYTHING, and sometimes things that probably aren't there. I crave weird ass foods. I am highly emotional and cry at episodes of Gilmore Girls. I have to pee all the time. Especially today. But it is too early for these things to be symptoms of an actual pregnancy, and seem to exist just to make me crazy. If waiting wasn't already hard enough.


In other news, a couple of nights ago I had a dream that I had a baby, but it didn't have a name or a gender or anything, and I kept forgetting to feed my featureless baby and then I would realize that it had been nine hours since the baby had eaten and I would freak out and feed it and vow never to lapse again, and then I would get caught up in reality tv or wake up from a nap and another nine hours had gone by... and I guess that sums up my fears about parenthood pretty nicely.

It took me three hours to write this post.

I may be the only one, but I am so glad that the holiday weekend is over. Between working in retail, and my sister being in town, I am absolutely exhausted, and I am completely relieved that it's Tuesday and I can have a day off.

This weekend has been big events! On Saturday husband and I had sex for the first time post-IUD removal. Kind of a big deal, considering I've spent the last seven years taking all sorts of measures to avoid pregnancy.  I had long imagined that having truly unprotected sex for the first time ever would be somewhere in the realm of terrifying, and that I would probably cry, since I tend to cry, well, about everything. But, no. There may have been a smirk, but definitely no tears.

The weather has been dreary lately. Mayvember, we were calling it. My dad cooked us (me, husband, sister, BFF, her fiancé, our other best friend, her boy friend, himself, and my mother) a full Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday night. Amazing. And even better when it is absent the drama and fake religion and bullshit of whatever extended family you are obligated to see and be on your best behavior for. This was just wonderful. My favorite people and the best food and several bottles of champagne and a rowdy and raucous evening, filled with very inappropriate table conversation. These people are my true family. Don't get me wrong, I do love my aunts and uncles and cousins and what-have-you, but with them there are huge chunks of my person that must be suppressed, and God, does that get tiresome quickly.

Anyway. At some point during the meal I excused myself to go to the bathroom. And by excused myself I mean I probably unpolitely announced that "I HAVE TO PEE!" and galumphed out of the room, but who can really remember. Champagne, you know. In the bathroom I was greeted with a revelation between my legs. Behold, fertile quality eggwhite cervical mucus. The first time I have experienced such things when I would actually be able to recognize them, and Oh. My. God. I had a moment in the bathroom with myself. Adding it all up... no birth control... sex last night... fertility... HOLY SHIT!  So I quietly return to the table, and whisper the contents of my underpants to BFF, who was seated beside me. And as the rest of the table was tipsy and boisterous, no one really noticed our not-so-quiet discussion of possible impending pregnancy.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this.  I started taking prenatal vitamins yesterday,  but possible conception didn't keep me from a couple of vodka tonics when we went out for karaoke last night. Hopefully that doesn't come back to bite me in the ass. How bizarre would it be for me to get pregnant the first time I've ever had unprotected sex? I'd feel like some awful statistic from some 90s teen magazine. Also, how the hell am I going to wait out these next two weeks until I can find out what the hell is going on?

The cat's out of the bag.

So I didn't intend on telling sister or our parents that I am not using birth control anymore, but sister is home for the long weekend and I was at my parents' house for dinner last night and holy hell am I ever terrible at keeping secrets. Sister is angry at me because she wants me to be unpregnant to come visit her in France. According to her, it is impossible to have a good time in Europe unless you are drinking wine.

My family also fails to understand the difference between us forgoing birth control and actually, you know, trying. With the having sex all the time and on the appropriate days and all that business. So they gave me a hard time about that. And about the hypothetical baby names husband and I have agreed on and hey, I guess this is why I didn't plan on telling anyone until I had good news(!!) to share. Too late now.

In other news, husband and I ventured back to my dear gynecologist to discuss "family planning," as the nurse so politely put it. After which she remarked how young we are. God, I get tired of hearing that. Doctor assured us that getting pregnant should be quick and easy and we talked about all the thing I already know, like how sushi is verboten, so yesterday I most definitely ate sushi for lunch. I probably will continue to do so on a regular basis until there is a possibility of pregnancy because sushi, you will be greatly missed. Now I just need to get me some prenatal vitamins.

Privacy

Hello Reader! (OMG! I have a reader!) Hello Readers would probably have a nice ring to it, but as it is I am only aware of one (hi!), and I am not fancy enough to like, track hits or whatever. Nor do I care. (Actually I am completely vain and I do but oh well.)

So, privacy. I started this blog mostly anonymously, because the whole baby-making thing isn't "out" yet (although I don't exactly keep it a secret either), and because I don't want random sixth-grade class mates Googling me and finding this and then posting about it on Facebook, and I probably don't really have to worry about anyone caring enough to Google me anyway.

But should I get pregnant, I'm going to want to post about ten gazillion pictures of my now flat stomach and then my slightly less flat stomach and then ever expanding belly, and then of course pictures of my hypothetical future baby and I'll want to tell you (oh, sole reader) the name we decide on, and other such details and I won't really be anonymous anymore, will I?

I guess we will have to cross that bridge when we come to it.

I'm pretty boring right now. i am working all the time, and therefor I am completely exhausted all the time that I am not working, and I spend a lot of time contemplating my cervical mucus and silently willing it to become more fertile. Really exciting, I know.

My husband is a philistine.

I tried to watch Moulin Rouge with him tonight. About 20 minutes in he claimed it was the third worst movie he had ever seen. I let him go about half way through because he was checking Facebook updates on his iPhone every three seconds, and it was terrible and distracting and I cried by myself.

I think at one point husband may have been a romantic, but I think that point was about five years ago. Whatever.

In other news, coming off of hormones sucks a big bag of dicks, as my roommate might say. Seriously. I didn't really imagine that I would even notice a change, considering how small of a dose they are, but this weeks has been trying for me. The first day I had a really strange headache and felt like I was in a fog. Then the past several days I have been grumpy as all hell, and in the mood to pick a fight with everyone. The other night I told husband it might be best if he went out with friends, because I was in such a mean mood, and then I think I complained that he didn't make me dinner.

I also had to go shopping for feminine hygiene products for the first time in approximately ten thousand years and I think it took me twenty minutes to pick out panty liners. I AM NOT USED TO BLEEDING FROM MY VAGINA. And I don't like it. Even though all I'm doing right now is spotting. God help me if I get an actual period. Looks like yet another reason I need to get pregnant.

All systems go!

I really ought to be sleeping right now, as I have to be at work at six am, which because I am incredibly vain means being awake pre-four a.m. in order to shave my legs and dry my hair and slather on copius amounts of makeup so that I can look really nice for all the other early morning metro riders. Yet here I am, tapping away on my iPhone, beaming in the darkness.

I cannot sleep because I am pretty much thrilled out of my pants. After buying husband a post-difficult job interview ice cream cone we stopped at Albertson's for such staples as cat food and Coke Zero, and husband tells me, as we walk past the dairy cooler, that he had been thinking about babies. On his own! Without any obnoxious whiny wife-prodding! Say what? And then husband informed me that he feels like he will be ready for this procreating business just as soon as his job situation settles down (i.e. he finds a job he likes better than his current), and maybe we should move up this "trying" business to August. August!

I'm thinking that this may in fact be the most romantic thing he's ever said to me. Seriously, I wanted to jump him right there next to the cans of Friskies. And this is not just sexy in the oh, well we'll probably need to do that pesky intercourse thing to actually concieve said babies kind of way, but in a deeply lustful, I just had my IUD removed and there's no way I've built up a pregnancy supporting uterine lining yet, but please take me here and now oh baby, oh baby kind of way.

Alas, husband already made plans to discuss potential job opening with a friend (yes in the middle of the night, why not?) and therefor left me alone in bed where I should probably be sleeping. Really, though, I can't. Babies babies babies babies babies! My cheeks hurt from smiling. Babies! Soon! I feel like I am a completely different person than I was last month.

Maybe I will still be awake when husband gets home...