April 13th, 2010
I Swear Officer, Those Were Not My Drugs
This is the kind of thing that can only happen to me. All my life, I’ve found myself in situations where I’m accused of something I had absolutely nothing to do with just by being in the worst place at the worst time. I told my husband years ago there may come a day when I stand trial for something I didn’t do because I have the worst luck in the history of the world.
The other day, the Hyphenated Husband is vacuuming the bedroom while I’m cleaning the office. I hear him shut off the vacuum, then he heads into the office saying,
“Uhhh, Gina? Okay, I’m not accusing you of this, but, ummm… what the hell is this?”
Then he walks into the office holding a marijuana pipe, and sporting a look of shock. Now, nobody in this house smokes pot. I haven’t smoked pot since I was a teenager, and neither has he. So where the HELL did this thing come from? We start searching our minds for who may have been in our house with this thing. Was it his mom??? She’s the only person ever in our bedroom. No, it’s not his mother, the retired police officer, for crying out loud.
Then who? How did a piece of drug paraphernalia make it into our bedroom?
Oh wait! The chair! It must have fallen out of the chair that was given to us by his uncle! Ohmygod, his uncle gave us a chair with a pot pipe in it! And now we’re thinking, “Okay, was it our uncle, or our aunt, or one of their two kids that left the pipe in there???”
It doesn’t matter now, because even more pressing is: how the hell do we get rid of this thing? John starts to throw it in the garbage and I’m all freaked out like,
“Wait!!! You can’t throw it in the regular garbage!!! What if the cops go through our garbage and think the pot pipe is ours and ohmyeffinggodwe’dgotojailandthey’dtakeourkidsawayohmygod!!!“
See – pot DOES make you paranoid, even when you haven’t smoked it.
So, I make John wrap it up really tightly and take it all the way out to the garbage on the curb. Today is Tuesday, garbage day in my town, and I’m patiently waiting for the knock on the door by the good ‘ol village police.
Let me just state, for the record, those were not my drugs. You all are my witnesses.
February 1st, 2010
Sex is More Fun When It’s Funny
Tonight I learned some new things about the natural gender selection method we’re trying out. Instead of just the timing of intercourse, apparently the odds can be swayed by diet, and changing the pH in the woman’s vagina to make it more hospitable to either the XX or XY chromosome sperm – whichever you’re going for.
In my case, we’re trying to get the girl spermies to reach the egg before the boys do. This means I need to do some things to get my pH more on the acidic side, so the fragile male sperm can’t survive, which leaves the female sperm hanging around waiting for ovulation.
One of the things I have to do is cut out coffee (somebody kill me now) and bananas (they are one of my all-time favorite foods.) I don’t fully understand the extent of this diet yet, but if I find out that I have to stop eating chocolate, then I’m calling the whole damn thing off. THAT is a deal breaker, my friends.
Oh, and get this – I also found out that if you’re trying for a girl, the woman shouldn’t orgasm during intercourse. That’s right - they say having an orgasm during intercourse makes the vaginal environment more hospitable toward the male sperm.
So THAT is why I have two boys?!? Because I’m cursed with multiple orgasms? Son-of-a-Mother-Effing-Effer!
Okay, fine. I can skip a few orgasms if it means keeping my “environment” just right for conceiving a girl. So I tell the husband that I’m going to have to take a few for the team, and he’s (can you believe it?!?!) okay with that. He’s trying desperately to hide the excitement on his face as I’m standing over the stove, giving him permission to come without me for the first time in 5.5 years, so I say
“But listen pal! You’re paying me back BIG TIME later in the month!”
And of course, he’s fine with that too. The funny part is that sex has now become an act of simply depositing sperm where we needs it to be. This is quite comical to both of us, but alas, once our DVR’d shows were through, HH leans over to take off my pants so we can get the show on the road. This is a whole new feeling for us, and it’s hard not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of having sex for the sole purpose of impregnation. We’ve spent most of our adult lives desperately NOT trying to make a baby.
So we’re getting into it, we’re already halfway laughing anyway, so I say to Hyphenated Husband,
“Hey, think GIRL when you spit it in there.”
And he starts howling with laughter. So now we’re both laughing — still doing it, and laughing. Then he says,
“Now I’m thinking of Kevin Smith”
And of course! I mean, who doesn’t think of Kevin Smith when they’re having sex with their hot wife?! Actually, I bet Kevin Smith would be thrilled to hear that we’re thinking of him during intercourse. He is one kinky motherfucker. Then husband says,
“You saying “Spit” made me remember Kevin Smith calling it a Dick Sneeze.”
And the words “Dick Sneeze” send me into hysterics. So now, we’re having what might be the loudest sex we’ve had in months, but not because both of us are calling to God, but because we’re both cracking up so hard that we (almost) lost our rhythm.
And it was fun. Sure, I had to sacrifice my orgasm, but it was still probably one of the more memorable sex sessions we’ve had in awhile. And I know my orgasm isn’t gone forever – it’s just waiting for a time when I don’t have to worry about my damn vaginal pH levels.
I swear, in all my life, I never thought I’d hear myself utter the words “vaginal pH.”
January 30th, 2010
Adventures in (more) Babymaking
Well… there it is. In case you aren’t on Twitter (seriously, why aren’t you on Twitter?!?) then you may not have heard the news that we are officially trying to have another baby.
First I thought it would be fun not to tell anybody and surprise everyone when I started to show, but two things complicated that plan:
- I need support and advice from my cyber-mommy-friends.
- I have a big ass mouth.
We originally planned to wait until this summer to start, but the more we though about it, we thought that was actually pretty bad timing. That would give us a baby late next spring, and that really wouldn’t work. Unlike most couples I know, we have to worry about both John and I being in school and trying to start our careers, so the children have to be timed perfectly to coincide with our full and complex schedules so we don’t get off track again.
With Julesy, we knew we wanted to have him in May so I could have a summer’s worth of maternity leave before school started again. It worked out perfectly. We conceived in August and he arrived May 16th.
This time, we thought we’d like to have another baby next May, however, I’ll be graduating in May, then hopefully will be spending my summer working in a law firm with my paralegal certificate, and then starting law school in the fall of ’11. When I really thought about it, I decided the worst thing I could think of would be to try to start a new job right after having a baby, and then starting law school with a 3 month old who will still probably be up nursing all hours of the night.
Hayell. No.
However – we know we want another baby. That part is easy. But we know we don’t want to have that baby while I’m in law school, or even during my first few years out when I’m trying to get my career going. And if we wait any longer than that, I’ll be in my 40′s, and Jonas will nearly be a teenager. We don’t want to start alllllll over again with the baby stuff in our 40′s, so really, if we want a third baby, it needs to happen by the end of this year.
We also desperately want this baby to be a girl. Of course (and this should really go without saying) we will love whatever baby we get. But seriously. Universe? PLEASE give us a girl. John and I aren’t the only ones who want a girl – Jonas has started asking for a sister. In fact, he has asked me for a sister nearly every day this week. When I said
“Hey Jonas, do you want Mommy & Daddy to have another baby?”
He says
“YES! I do want you to have a baby – You got to give me a sister!”
And I try to hide the smile when I say
“Jonas, are you sure you don’t want another brother?”
and he says
“No, Mommy! I already haaaave a brother! I need a sister now!”
I know, Jonas. You do. I totally agree.
So we’re trying the Shettles Method this time and seeing if we can time a sister for him. I think we could pull it off, but I really should have started charting my cycle a long time ago. A friend gave me her copy of Taking Charge of Your Fertility:The Definitive Guide to Natural Birth Control, Pregnancy Achievement, and Reproductive Health
Now, onto the really important stuff: The Birth.
I will be having a homebirth this time, provided that everything works out with the provider I’ve chosen. I have a consultation scheduled with one of the few CNMs in Illinois who will take me on now that I have this damn cesarean scar that will haunt my reproductive health for the rest of my life. This midwife only takes on Secondary HBAC clients, meaning moms who’ve already had at least one successful VBAC (and that’s me! Yay!)
Hyphenated Husband and I are also planning on taking Hypnobirthing classes, and if anybody out there has a wonderful Hypnobirth story to tell me, pretty please, lay it on me.
So there it is. All the details I have so far. TFB is adding Number 3.
Holy shit. Here we go!
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And speaking of all this! Make sure you tune into my radio show this Sunday night at 10 pm Central time when I talk to Meagan Francis about her book on raising big families.
January 27th, 2010
Wordless Wednesday – Anniversary Style
Our Gorgeous "Spa Suite" at Trump Tower
The Bathroom Was So Tricked Out, It Had a TV in the Mirror
The Tub So Deep it Nearly Covered My Head - I Want to Give Birth in Here
A View Looking Down the Chicago River Toward Lake Michigan
Looking South on Wabash
The Hyphenated Husband Bathing in the Luxurious Pool
The $25 Bottles of WATER Available for Purchase in the Room
Sexy Hyphenated Husband Dressed for Dinner
A Non-Mom-Looking Me Dressed for Dinner
Yeah, I Got Drunk Before Dinner Arrived
January 5th, 2010
Introducing TFB’s Radio Show/Podcast
Well, I did it. I bit the bullet and signed up on Blog Talk Radio to host my very own weekly show. It’s something I’ve been daring myself to do for a long time, I just never felt like I had it in me until now. After mentioning it to my readers/fans/followers, and to the Hyphenated Husband, I got enough support and encouragement to feel like it couldn’t hurt to give it a try. I decided this would be a super cool way to interview some really interesting women and men, increase my readership, and further explore Feminist Mothering issues. Hyphenated Husband also offered to co-host once a month with me to talk about Feminist Fathering issues, which I think is a super, duper cool idea.
This Sunday, January 10th, at 10 pm CST my show sails its maiden voyage. This one will be an introduction to the show, a history of my blog, and some background on Yours Truly. Hyphenated Husband will also be joining me to help fill in some background on me, and introduce himself as the resident Feminist Father. Your assignment is to leave questions for me here that you’d like me to answer for you on the air this Sunday. The best part about the Blog Talk Radio service I’m using is that I can take callers, so please, feel free to call in and chat!
Hope to hear from you! Also, coming up January 17th is my show called “Breastfeeding Broads” and I’m looking for a feminist breastfeeding advocate or two to call in and talk to me about how breastfeeding is a feminist issue. Please let me know if you’re interested!
