leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- strippers and gambling and bunnies 10 weeks. 10 weeks if he's the on-time sort, which he might be considering Daddy is perpetually early and Mommy is perpetually late. I'm soooo not ready for this. I mean not only in that practical way: We haven't found our new digs yet, so we certainly haven't set up any of the baby sorts of things he's supposed to have including all manner of scary-cheerful-cotton-covered plastic things in which the baby is supposed to...I don't know...sleep or bounce or swing or something. (I'll figure it all out I guess.) But as thrilled and no-take-backs about this as I am, (and seriously blessed beyond belief - i know, i know) I'm also not ready for this in that way where: I've never been to Vegas. What if my stomach doesn't return to it's mostly flat, slightly curvy cuteness. There are too many good books to read. (I don't know any mommys who read - for like pleasure.) We got pregnant so fast, we never were really just a couple. We never got the wild sex in cars, up against walls half-drunk, me in some hottie skimpy outfit he had hiked over my hips. I mean don't get me wrong there was really great sex pretty much constantly the first four months or so, but it was mainly because it was one of the only things that relieved my morning sickness for any length of time. We tried to have sex, Saturday morning, and I suppose we mostly succeeded. It wasn't much fun though. I kept having to stop because my belly would get in the way; pillows had to be employed and there were at least two breaks for water because I seriously felt I might die if I didn't stop squishing the baby and sit up straight and drink something immediately. I miss him touching me like he just wanted to throw me down somewhere. Now when he caresses me it's usually my belly. I'm probably exaggerating. There are still times I'll be slightly bent over the sink brushing my teeth or folding clothes or something and he'll pass by me and stop and get that look, and pull my hips back into him hard and kiss the back of my neck. There are still times he makes me feel sexy and wanted. And I guess I should be glad he does love my body pregnant. I just wish he more often had that hungry look in his eyes when he looked up at me instead of that soft "awww" look. I feel like someone's pet bunny. There are worse things to be, I'm sure...but still...I've never even been to Vegas. 10:14 a.m. - June 28, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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