Not to bore you with two cakes in a row, but… October 31, 2006

My Little Monster’s 2nd birthday cake. It was a yummy-ass carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.

This is actually a bad picture of it and I photoshopped his name out so it looks even weirder. But still.

I made all of the bugs, imprinted leaves and water from marzipan. The dirt is crushed oreos.

The snails have teeny tiny antanea with teenier tinier eyes on top.

What can I say about the g*d damned mini acorns with little blue caterpillars. I mean really.

And the toadstools. Well, clearly fairies came to the party and snuck a little nap on these.

The bugs on this cake make me want to swear. So I will. For fuck’s sake people.

Teeny Tiny ROBIN EGGS FLECKED WITH FUCKING COFFEE BEANS. In a NEST of sticks.

Honestly. I hate to just go on and on here but I can’t help it.
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Is this going to happen??? October 27, 2006

I am so f*cking bitter. I posted about this before, but I will again, because it is getting worse. I really really really want kids close in age. I wanted an 18 month difference. Now we will have a three year difference. For many reasons (even if some are stupid) the age difference between our kids is super important to me.

All I see at the park now are one and two year olds with their friggin baby siblings and/or giant pregnant moms. It has started to become gut wrenching. I am afraid that this will sound really shitty to those of you who want to have just one so badly, like I shouldn’t use words like wrenching, bitter or devastating. Maybe those words are reserved for those on their 4th IVF or 6th miscarriage.

Truly, though, I feel kinda devastated. It does not help that LM would be such a great older brother (not all kids are BTW). He loves babies. The other day at the park we were sitting near a parked stroller with a sleeping baby in it. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stroller saying “Mommy, come walk with me.”

He pointed to the baby and said “Mommy, she is wearing a hat and she has a toy.”

I agreed. He said “Mommy she is sleeping, look!”

I agreed again.

We admired her.

Later that same park outing he sat next to another baby and made giant silly faces at him.

He smiled and cooed and said “Mommy, this is a baby, yes!!”

Not all 2 year olds are like this. Certainly not boys. But mine is. And I wish wish wish we had a baby sibling for him right now, or at least one on the way. He would love being a brother. Siblings 3 years apart don’t play the same way. They just don’t. They really don’t. And we will be lucky at this point to even have a 3 year split. So we watch while everyone around us has their 2nd child. We watch while ALL LM’s little friends get siblings. And we wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Oh, then more waiting. Then more.

Certainly we are so FAR FAR FAR past what I wanted that I am reaching a point where I just feel like crying and feel sorry for myself.

This round I flat out can’t imagine that S is pregnant. I’m sure the hope will sneak in and dig its dirty nails into me again. Then we will see more negative pregnancy tests, watch her temperature plummet and start a whole new cycle with a giant fucking blank chart. Again.

I want another child so badly that it physically hurts.

The Cake October 27, 2006

Here is the cake.

Cream cheese frosting and fondant.

Sorry for the bad flash pic. The good ones are on WTF’s camera, but I didn’t want to wait to show y’all. S photoshopped his name off the cake and replaced it with “BBBB” so there would not be a blank space.

So here it is. I heart the Cyclops alien.

Um, Yeah. I made it.

And P.S. Thank you for all of your comments and suggestions about the blog. For the moment I’m not changing anything. I’m still mulling it over. But I appreciate SO SO much that all of you wonderful people are reading this. I honestly don’t know that I would be surviving this adventure without you.

Blogs, privacy and hundreds of people I dont even know. October 25, 2006

Hey. I’m considering changing my blog to be password protected. I’m just feeling less and less like sharing all of this with the whole world. I love those of you who I have come to know, but I’m feeling an urge to privatize, to enclose, to protect. Nothing terrible or even notable happened…I’m just considering my options.

The main issue for me is privacy. I honestly don’t know if there is anyone else I know IRL who reads this. I write as if I’m journaling in private, or writing to some good friends. But the truth is that many, many strangers read this, and it is unsettling.

How does one even go about password protecting or what have you? Blogger doesn’t seem to have that option. Anyone know what my options are? Anyone have an opinion?

Just Checking In… October 24, 2006

Second insems with Rocket Man and WTF went well. Cake was a hit. I have been at their house for a few days, hence the blogging absence. I need to catch up on some sleep. I’ll post more later.

Oh, one more thing…S’s chart is CRAZY this month, already. We think it might be the the fertility tea she is drinking three times a day.

I am a Cake Baker October 20, 2006

I am officially a baker of fabulous cakes. What this really means in the land of Charlotte is: I will become obsessed with cake baking and buy all manner of pans, colorings, rolling pins, books and other specialty tools, I will make a number of crazy zany fucking fabulous cakes and then I will never ever bake again.

My hobbies burn hot and fast.

But fuck it. I want to bake. My newest project is a cake for Rocket Man. His birthday falls on one of our insem days next week, so I will be baking him a cake, in the theme of…a R.OCKET!

Yes, my friends. A rocket shaped cake. A F.ONDANT covered ro.cket ca.ke. With flames and everything. And no there will be nothing phallic involved.

This is actually an expensive gift (I spent more than $50 on supplies and ingredients) and S and I have a new budget system where the money needs to be accounted for.

At first we were going to take the money from our “gift” fund, but on further reflection we realized this money is part of our “baby” fund, and it beats the hell out of spending $1200 on frozen sperm.

Frumpy Mom October 18, 2006

I have kinda become frumpy mom. My kid always looks fantastic, while I look, well, barely acceptable.

At various times in my life, I have chosen frumpiness on purpose…wearing too big clothing, not paying attention to my shoes. To hide, mostly, for myriad reasons. But I always had the sexy librarian option.

I’m 6′ tall and have good bone structure, so I could, at any time, make a transformation of sorts. It was like being a superhero.

Nobody knew what I was hiding under all those layers, then BAM.

You know, slow motion begins as I let down my hair and toss it side to side.

Boom Chica Boom Chica…

Sexy me emerges from the layers of clothing with some f*ckme red lipstick and an attitude. Everyone noticed me when I walked into a room. Super powers I tell you.

Now I am carrying around the 20 extra pounds I never shed after pregnancy, like a lump. You know what, that’s a lie. I lost most of it at one point last year after actually exercising and eating well. Amazing how uncomplicated it actually is: eat less, and move your ass. Hello? But I have food addiction issues. And with TTC comes cake.

The cake and the cinnamon buns and the cheesy quesadillas, oh and the 10pm bowl of cereal, pads my nice sharp bone structure and gives me a perky little muffin top. I have always had a bootie, so that is just bigger. I also have some boobs, which I have NEVER had in my life. That was fun for a while. Now I’m over it.

So here I am, a little rounder. Fine. But I’m not even working what I have. I’m not a voluptuous sexy chick now. You can be sexy with a muffin top, at least other people can, just don’t be trying to squeeze into those low rise jeans, please. The truth is I’m self conscious. I see pre-baby pictures of myself (when I still felt ugly and fat, but whatev.) and I can barely recognize myself. I look like a friggin supermodel.

I actually was a model for a bit when I was 16. I went to New York with F*ord models and everything.

So what the fuck people? Why am I never happy with how I look, even when I’m hot?

Unfortunately for me I still believe sometimes that I can do the librarian thing, but here’s what happens instead:

I shake out my no-style-to-speak-of-hair that maybe I washed yesterday or the day before, I put on some lipstick only to realize I have not bleached my moustache in 2 months (my son pointed to it the other day and said “mouth hair!” all proud, like he made a terrific discovery), my armpits are shaved but my legs are not, I don’t fit into any of my cool clothes anymore, and my toenail polish is all chippy. I might even look like a crack whore.

Sexy times.

Di@manda G@las - Si La Muerte October 17, 2006

S completely hearts Di@manda G@las. She’s a singer and little intense for me, seeing as some of her songs are just screaming, literally. But she’s an opera singer, with a 4 octave range. Anyhoo, here are the lyrics to one of her songs, one that I actually like if I’m in a dark mood. It is in Spanish (and way more beautiful in that language), but here is the English translation:

Si La Muerte

If death should come asking for me
do me the favor
of telling him to come back tomorrow
because I still haven paid my debts
nor finished a poem
nor said goodbye to anyone
nor prepared clothing for the trip
nor delivered that package I promised to
nor locked up my desk drawers
nor told my friends what I should have
nor sniffed the fragrance of the unborn rose
nor laid bare my roots
nor answered an overdue letter
because I haven’t even washed my hands
or known a son
or gone hiking in unknown countries
nor do i know the seas seven sails
nor the song of mariners
If death should come
please tell him I understand
and to wait a bit
because I haven’t kissed my sweetheart goodbye
nor shaken hands with my family
nor dusted my books
nor whistled my favorite song
nor reconciled with my enemies
tell him I haven’t yet attempted suicide
nor seen my people freed
tell him if he comes to return tomorrow
that it’s not because I fear him but
I haven’t even set off along the road.

Wow, I’m sick of my own whining October 15, 2006

I read over my recent posts and holy Whinefest 2006. I am certainly entitled to some bitterness, but I hate that I have been bitter and BORING. Bad combo. I’m totally over it.

I may be done whining until/if/when we we get another you’re.not. pregnant. Then I am allowed to be boring bitter and whatever else I throw up here.

All this feeling sorry for myself is just exhausting.

S is drinking some great fertility tea from Sarah and BB via FamilyO, thrice times per day. We are calling accupunturists tomorrow.

Rocket Man has no business trip this month so we are going to put copius amounts of sperm, like 1to 2 times per day, in S over three days, starting a week from today, on Sunday.

Eeeew and Yay!

I hate white, and being lapped October 13, 2006

Blank white space on your pregnancy test.

Blank white space when you begin a new chart.

White is lame.

In better news, WTF assured me that they are more than happy to donate to us, again and again, so stop worrying about puting them out.

Now on to being lapped.

My very good friend is lapping us. She started TTC #2 around the same time as us, and she is about to give birth. I find this aspect one of the most difficult parts of wanting, and not having, another baby: Letting go of the “plan”.

I hate being lapped. I hate it. I hate having a plan, an expectation of kids close in age, of being pregnant with someone, and watching those plans pass on by.

Even the vague plans are hard to let go. For instance, I thought we would have a spring baby. Now if we get pregnant soon (haha) we will have a summer baby. I try to make that ok, but I wanted a spring baby. I had plans. Who cares right? ME. I care. I wanted a baby last friggin year. I got attached to my stupid vision of a spring baby.

The hardest one to let go of, by far, is the we-will-have-kids-close-in-age plan. I have never wanted a 3 year age difference between my kids. I wanted them in school together, as playmates. I have always wanted this. So has S. Silly us, getting attached to anything at all.

I have tried to be flexible. I have changed plans MANY times. But at this point by the time I’m ok with the new deal, it is already my 4th or 6th or 17th choice, so I feel increasingly gipped as plan after plan is left behind.

I can almost handle this. But I can’t when I wonder if it will happen for S at all. Before you say, it is too early to think that (yes I’m aware we have only done 3 months of actual insems) think about all the folks you know IRL and in this blog group who have had serious fertility issues.

She’s 35. Even if we get pregnant, the cell cluster or fetus or baby could die.

It is sobering, and it is the truth.

Or S could also get pregnant next month and carry to term a healthy plump little monster. We just don’t know.

I hate blank white areas that should be filled with pink lines and triphasic dots, I hate being lapped by pregnant friends I love, and I hate not knowing what the fuck will happen.