Pressure

So, we are on the final day of what is supposedly my "fertile window" for this cycle. (I know I promised not to get too specific about personal matters, but humor me for the sake of humor, kids.) In the past six days Ethan has been out of the country (read: Not putting out the baby juice) THREE of those days. We've "attempted to create life," to put it very nicely, exactly three times in those 6 days and yet last night he claimed he was already feeling pressure to perform. This from the man who, when we're not attempting to procreate, claims we'd engage in that particular activity daily if it were up to him. Typical male bullshit!!

I couldn't believe my ears. I mean, CHRIST, it's not like I'm asking for the moon here. Just sex every other day for a six day period to make sure there's a constant supply of viable sperm in the ol' uterus. In the end, faithful readers, he cowboyed up and did his husbandly duty, so no harm no foul. Big up, Ethan! Go on with your virile self! And I didn't have to ask, beg or give him a roofie--he actually initiated. What was all the hubbub about?

Anyhoo, March 19th is official "pee stick" day. We'll see if we were successful in our endeavors on that date. Off to spend some QT with my stud mule.

Nighty Night,
V

Just a small observation...

Have you seen the recent Budweiser ads where they show the original 1936 can design they're bringing back for a limited time? I was mortified. That design couldn't look more Nazi-esque if they put a smiling Hitler and an emaciated Jew on the can. They should just show stock footage of Hitler at the '36 Olympics and superimpose a Bud in his hand when he gives the old "Sieg Heil."

Stay tuned for the 3 crummy pics I managed to get of The Gates this past Saturday before I DROPPED MY GODDAMN DIGITAL CAMERA AND BROKE THE SHIT OUT OF IT. I'm such a fucking loser...

Vickster