Gimme An H-S-G! Now Gimme Some Cash
Home Of The Beaver

Non Linear

HSG = good.
Procreative sex > Nonprocreative sex.
7 bottles of wine + 10(appropriate quantity of chicken) + 1 mocha mousse confection = A Pretty Good Dinner Party + Obscene Amount of Leftover Chicken/ 1 Crise de Nerfs When 5 Guest Arrived 30 Minutes Early


So I would like to get pregnant again. I can handle another miscarriage. I will let you know how things go.


There is a lot to be said for procreative sex, by the way. God knows it increases frequency around here. I realize that there are people out there, and we hate them mostly, who publicly vow that they will not let their desire to have a child warp their Hot Hot sexxx lives into something "mechanical." They assure themselves (and us!) that they will continue to get swept up by the moment and, in time, that moment will nicely coincide with the woman's casement window of fertility and hooray! Passion leads to Prudence, 7lbs 9oz. For Steve and me that insouciance lasted for about two months- FIVE YEARS ago. Ever since then (with an Ollie-Ollie-in-Come-Free Sexfest that coincided with Patrick's first year of life during which time we were NOT interested in conceiving and could have had sex any old time but were too tired) we have had sex on schedule. A generous schedule that closely resembles flight times from LA to LaGuardia, rather than the more limiting Schenectady to Santa Fe run, but still... there are expectations.


Do you know Ollie-Ollie-in-Come-Free, by the way? I called it out to Steve the other day and he came in from the yard at once. When I was growing up we would shout it to indicate that a big outdoor game (like Hide-and-Go-Seek with all the neighborhood kids) was either over or temporarily suspended due to injury or the presence of a parent looking for their offspring. Steve actually grew up about 10 miles away from me, so I guess it isn't so surprising that we would know the same childhood things. Although, now that I think about it, I remember a spectacularly drunk evening in college disintegrating into hand clapping games ("Miss Mary Mack" springs to mind) with people from Louisiana and Oregon and we all knew the same words and gestures. And it isn't like Schoolhouse Rock or something. We are talking about oral traditions here, people. Well, I think it is fascinating. So do you know either Ollie-Ollie or Miss Mary Mack?

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