Tastebuds, get ready for a pineapple assault.
Yes, I do the pineapple thing. It worked the month I got knocked up with Harpie, so I figure it is worth a try again. A little fruit never hurt, right?
And so (I suspect) begins the first 2 Week Wait post-Harpie.
p.s. lesson in pineapple post, by request.
Injustice, considering Nate & I knocked boots in a wonderful way last night.
Maybe I will ovulate tomorrow? I don’t typically dip before I ovulate, but methinks the gloves are off now & my ute shall never be the same.
I am literally dripping EWCM.
You are free to go vom in your trashcan now. You’re welcome.
Nate: “Baby, we love each other.”
Blair: “You bet your sweet ass we do. & I’m going to prove it to you again tonight.”
Nate: “Again?!” ::pause:: “Are we baby-making??”
Blair: ::blushes:: “Errrmmm….”
lol. Like I said, it’s Days of Our Lives.
Oh, and I am super-pissed at Tucker (the pup) for vomiting so loudly it woke us up at 5am this morning. Not because my carpet is now stained, & not because I worry about her health — but because her furry ass woke me up a full hour before I am supposed to temp. Then Fertility Friend tossed out the temp.
Tuck’s sleeping downstairs tonight.
I’d love to stay & chat tonight, but I think I’m going to go let my husband try to knock me up.
My uterus has resembled a Days of Our Lives episode when it comes to making the decision to TTC. Agonizingly psuedo-dramatic. One minute we’re waiting six months, the following day we’re trying in March, & next thing I know we’re having condomless sex followed by “let’s wait 6 months” post-coital pillow talk.
I need a sweeping 1980′s-esque theme song & big hair with a horribly fake set, STAT.
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