Maybe Baby

The Big Dude and I are talking about having another baby.

I always intended to have another baby. In the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I spent a lot of time feverishly plotting how we could have a second child - when we would do it, how we would get the money for the fertility treatment, at what point I could take more leave, and would my Big Dude's health hold up.

When we inquired about our original sperm donor last year, the news was not good. The terms under which our fertility clinic now accepted sperm had changed and the donor hadn't yet replied to a letter asking him to donate under the new conditions. I was very uneasy about using a different donor for a second child and decided to wait.

Now, it seems like all systems are go. Our original donor is now available. My working conditions (especially if I can bring myself to stay in my current job) are flexible enough to accommodate firstly fertility treatment and then a pregnancy and maternity leave and more part-time work. Our Little Dude is old enough to need just that little bit less care that makes a baby more of a possibility. We could get a loan for the money. My mother will soon be living next door and has said she'll help with the babysitting.

Everything looks right. We have booked in for an appointment with our specialist in a couple of months time.

But as I stand here on the very brink, I'm not sure if it feels right. I should be really excited that things are coming together so well, and yet somehow I'm not. I'm a bit stunned by my own absence of excitement.

I think about having another little baby to hold and I melt inside. But I am also thinking about how tired I am and about having to trudge to the clinic at the crack of dawn for the injections every morning. I am thinking about how unbelievably crap it feels when a cycle fails. I am thinking about the impact on my body. I am thinking about how distant my Big Dude seemed to be when I was pregnant. I am thinking about the pain of the birth. I am thinking about lack of sleep, a baby crying and that utter dismay I felt when I truly realized just how hard having a baby is and that I was going to have to do it all day after day after day.

I love my Little Dude so much. He seems more beautiful every day. Everything I went through to have him I would do again fifty times over rather than have missed out on having him.

But can I really face going through it all again?

About Last Night

Last night, the only indication that my Big Dude was planning to follow up on our regular sex date (we skipped last week because he was sick) was that he suddenly carried his pillows into my room.

But we had a pretty good time. Although he was still unwell, he was quite enthusiastic and we had gentle penetrative sex with me on top. Three lovely orgasms from penetration for me, and one from long, slow oral sex for him, just the way he likes it.

I honestly think my Big Dude prefers to come from oral sex. He has a bad back from Vietnam, so penetrative sex tends to hurt after a while, even though he likes it. But with oral sex, knowing he has satisfied me already, he can just lie back and enjoy.

Also, I quietly pride myself on my oral sex technique. I like to kiss my way down his body, building up the anticipation so that he is quivering by the time I get down there. Then I gently lick my way up the shaft, working my way slowly to the tip and back again. When I take him into my mouth, I start to swirl my tongue around, up and back, up and back, along the shaft. Once I think he is ready, I establish a good sucking rhythm, taking in as much of him as I can and making sure my tongue continues to swirl around until the very end. I think actively using my hands and my tongue, as well as my lips, is very important.

He loves it and I love doing it. I like to make sure he is groaning and helpless in my arms before I make him come. He is a strong man with a powerful personality, and I enjoy having him completely at my mercy!

So we are both happy today.

Although I probably won't mention to him the very hot fantasy I was having at the time about sex with two men at once...

Vote For Me!

Can I just say how much I am enjoying Digger's new meme?

I am truly honoured by Trueself's nomination of me as the blogger she would vote for in an election.

Of course, my political career would come to an untimely end once I was exposed as simultaneously running for political office and hanging out in Digger's hot tub!

Wish Me Luck

Guess what?

That job I was interested in has finally been advertised. I spent lots of the weekend doing up an application, only to discover when I got back into work that their original statement that it could be done part-time had not been included. I put in the application anyway, but felt kind of despondent. It's very difficult to find jobs at my level with part-time hours and it felt like a rare opportunity had been waved in front of me and then just vanished.

Then, while I was printing out some other work, I saw an advertisement for a second job in an area I have always vaguely intended to go to - and it specifically noted that part-time availability was okay. The selection criteria were quite similar to the first job, so I hurriedly shifted a few paragraphs around and sent in an application for that one, too.

Half an hour later I had a call from the boss in the first area asking if she could show my resume to her own boss and noting that she had a part-time vacancy. Suddenly, things were looking good!

So, will I be offered the first job or the second job, and which will I take? Surely I couldn't possibly be rejected for both... Of course, my tiny efforts don't begin to compare with dedicated job hunters like 2am Somewhere, who has now considered 103 separate opportunities!

Wish me luck!

Escapism

I got this today from Dad's Life, and it's very true. I wonder if all mothers of young children are escapists?

I took Sage Vivant's Erotic Personality Quiz and discovered I'm an Escapist!

What is your Erotic Personality? Find out now.

Reality is The Escapist’s least favorite place. Sex in another era or galaxy with other people would be ideal for this erotic personality—or so they believe. They also like to revise their own history and think about how great a certain sexual encounter or partner would have been if only this or that had happened. An Escapist’s fantasy life is active and rich, but it is characterized by fantasies that they’ve nurtured and cultivated to perfection. This is the mother of all erotic types and almost everyone has a bit of The Escapist in them. What makes this type a person’s dominant erotic personality, however, is how necessary the fantasies are for erotic fulfillment.

Attitude Change

Tonight, my Big Dude said, "What's happening with our Tuesday nights (sex dates)?" I said, "That's up to you, Dude".

He said, "If it's up to me, then we're on!"

Now, that's what I like to hear!

Addictions II

I've just been reminded of another reason I love alcohol so much.

I had a hard day at work today. I worked like a demon. And when I came home, after a few hours of childcare and wholesome family life, I thoroughly enjoyed an entire bottle of wine. I was relaxed, I was happy. Once the Big Dude was in bed, I listened to music and danced around the house like a maniac. I was having fun (and I didn't forget to clean up the kitchen, either).

And part of the reason I was having fun was that I was that girl again. That girl who worked hard and played hard. Who listened to great music, who tore strips off powerful politicians in public forums, who could dance like a djin and fuck like a rattlesnack.

That girl is gone, or going. Other things are required of me, now. The mother, the wife, the sober bureaucrat (If it be thy will, O Prime Minister, I am no longer your enemy but your humble servant). But secretly, I love to resurrect her just for while so that I can enjoy being her again.

To be honest, with a few drinks in, I am actually a better person. I am a "happy drunk". A more cheeful and interesting person. There is none of that self-pitying, reproachful wailing you get from some. I semi-forget all that caution and sensibleness and prioritising. I am more relaxed and more open. I am interested in virtually everything and more able to connect with othr people.

I haven't forgotten that the one time I was able to have a proper conversation with my sister about her sexual assault, I was three sheets to the wind. For some reason, I was able to draw her out, ask the right questions and not say the wrong thing. It was the most meaningful conversation we'd had in years - probably the most meaningful conversation we'd ever had. And I haven't forgotten a word of it.

What does alcohol have that effect on some people? And why can't I quite get there without it? And why do I have this uneasy feeling that I should give it up entirely?