Wednesday, 31 October 2007

in which is think about my diminishing sex life

Chaps and Lasses it is official... I am walking the walk. Yes, the pregnancy walk.
Legs spread, knees slightly bent, pelvis thrust forward, one hand resting on my swollen belly and the other bringing up the rear.

If it wasn't for the obvious baby i am housing in my belly you would think I was begging for a good stiff one... Well...I am... but that's another story.

Actually, no, it's not. Lets discuss this.

First off, last night husband did not come home drunk, so was not all over me like a rash...which unfortunately wasn't a bad thing because by the time he got home I was fast asleep...This was at 10pm. pathetic, I know. Anyways, this left me with a rather strong taste for a bit of shagging this morning...

Today on my lunch break I ventured to the one and only Ann Summers in hopes to some how give my libido a kick start. I know some men (my husband being one of them) say Pregnant women are sexy but to me I just feel totally out of whack. Sexy is about confidence and attitude right? so how can I be sexy when I'm walking like a penguin and have trouble sitting down, let alone pulling my limbs into any other weird and wonderful positions, thus making me a moody shit who is sure she looks fat in whatever she wears. And I have to say one of the most un-sexy things I've ever seen is a belly button that is on the verge of going from and innie to an outie...ew. So what better way to feel sexy than to go out and buy myself a Bondage starter kit? Of course accompanied by some nice new frilly knickers and bra (and i might have purchased some Durex play as well... refer to: Current needs).

So the plan for this Halloween night will be busting out my new kit after dinner, but after texting husband "I hope you're up for playing tonight" and there was no reply I called to see what was up..."I'm fucking knackered" ... Of course, he says he'll "give it a go" assuming i inspire a little energy into him. But honestly, where has our relationship gone too if not even and blindfold some black tape and a 5 tailed whip can't spark a little fire?

Is this the sign that the honey moon period is over? So soon? ... I wonder if we weren't married if he'd be up for it more often... Maybe it's the age gap... He is 15 years my senior. I'm not saying he can't get it up as often, because, oh, he can. oh yes. mmmyes. BUT maybe what my mother said is true "as you get older, it's not so much about sex anymore and you don't feel the need to talk about it as much" ... Is this so? Because i have noticed i do talk about it a lot more than him, in fact I feel I must go over the event blow by blow while we're doing the "cuddling" after in an almost review style...I kid you not, my friends. It's as if I've just seen the latest block buster and must voice my opinion about all the characters and special effects (of which are many) and then of course the final scene (the climax...of which there are sometimes "alternative endings"). Is that because of my age or because I'm just awfully fond of sex, but even more fond of talking?

Tuesday, 30 October 2007

in which i get inventive with ice cream

just had vanilla ice cream with raspberry preserves. I don't care what anyone says vanilla ice cream should not be eaten alone. tinned peaches, pecans, digestive biscuits, anything. I can mix anything with ice cream, and will. Before the raspberry preserve i was desperate for some classic vanilla and chocolate sauce. But alas, the cupboard is empty. I blame England for not having imported Hershey's syrup yet (Oh America, how i miss thee)... Not to worry though, improvise. Turn away from the kitchen and to the bedroom draws... Now, where did I leave that chocolate body paint?

In which i discuss my sex life and my mother in one post. oops?

I've just made the most delicious chicken salad in all of my culinary history. I really should cook more often.

The husband is out tonight on yet another Director/Head of department/Boss/THE ALL POWERFUL dinner/drinks thing. I say yet another because they seem very regular although this may just be because i never get out anymore. Don't get me wrong, i don't mind him going out, in fact i like it. Love it even. Him out of the house means I can cook dinner for one (my choice and NO complaints), eat ice cream with strange and wonderful toppings (pregnancy cravings...No, I haven't tried pickles yet), control the remote (football and trashy soaps galore!), sit on the computer and blog in peace (hello there), have an absurdly long shower without being interrupted (can't he hold it?), and bust out the vibrator (what? and you don't?).

Also, i find it such a strange turn on when husband comes home drunk and is all over me. Yum. Is it sick that i like that i can totally take advantage of him? I mean, of course he enjoys it (who wouldn't?) but there is just something so totally satisfying about giving drunk husband a blow job and then climbing on for a ride. I suppose it's the illusion of having power over him (drunk husband is never drunk enough not to know whats going on and protest and or take "the power" if he wanted to...but it's nice to pretend)...Maybe i should become a dominatrix. Though I've never been big on the idea of role play, only because i know I'd start laughing.

He shouldn't be home though for another few hours which leaves me plenty of time to procrastinate. I wish i could figure out how to upload pictures, my mother always sends me crazy pictures and videos of what she is doing whenever we chat online (yes, she's a hip mum, very computer savvy...very savvy actually. Must be where i get it from), well... actually they are not crazy pictures and videos, they are just pictures and videos of her... it's just she's a bit crazy, but in one of those "I hope I'm like you when i grow up" crazy ways.. Quirky, maybe? No, quirky is what old grannies are. Actually... I suppose my mother is an old granny... well not oldold.older... How does one define ones mother? I'd like to say she's a lot like me, but that's not true, because actually I'm a lot like her.

Yes, I say that proudly.

And i find it totally appropriate that i discussed my sex life (including my plastic friend) and my mother in one blog entry... Or maybe not. I'm sure she won't mind. like I said, she's quiet savvy.

Monday, 29 October 2007

In which I am amazed by tits and lack of hair

I am totally fascinated with my tits.

I must have spent a good few hours yesterday just studying them and weighing them up (literally), to me it is endlessly fascinating to feel my breast get heavier, to have new found cleavage that I have no idea what to do with and how to display (it must be displayed!), and most strangely how my nipples have not only darkened and gotten larger (I could guide an aircraft in for landing with these bad boys) but also how they have definitely changed in shape as well... they now look like they are meant for feeding. Hard to explain without going into much detail concerning the shape of my areola... Which maybe we'll save for another day.

at 23 weeks (tomorrow) my whole body is changing... bigger boobies, wider hips (which has nothing to do with the consumption of all things salty. yes salt, bad mummy), more...shall we say; inventive, bowel movements, and my hair. hair has changed, and no, not the hair on top of my head, I mean the hair everywhere else. It hasn't been growing back lately. Legs, underarms, lady bits, all seemingly smoother than before. HURRAH! less maintenance! Even my mustache is less obvious... Geeze, I hope that never gets back to my husband or the illusion will be ruined.

Sunday, 28 October 2007

In which I cry about the woes of being pregnant

Sunday, the day of lie-ins and more than one breakfast. Woke up to the husband caressing my cheek (yes, with his hand) and "aw, my little monster" (Monster is husbands favourite nick name for me, which, i am sure, will become clear as to why as this blog develops), of course a very beautiful and affectionate way to wake in the morning but also slightly unnerving if only for the fact that with pregnancy my face seems to have resorted to its once teenage self...Yes, the dreaded pimples (ugh, yes, plural) are back. So of course this results in every morning a quick run to the bathroom for a "spot check" (pun intended) before the husband lays eyes on his "glowing" wife.

I'm young, it was only a year or so ago that I finally came out of that stage of adolescence... I'm always very suspicious when someone say I have the pregnancy glow. I chalk it down to good make up application that morning, because I know as soon I get home and wash the layers of medium beige, bronze glow and rouge that underneath my poor acne prone skin is flaring up and screaming to

don't get me wrong, I do love being pregnant, and I am at times, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, but i do miss the "old me"... Drinking, smoking ... OK, fine, I realize that all those things aren't good for me, but drinking and smoking is cool...right? Better examples of things I miss are maybe staying awake later than 10:30pm, touching my toes, and giving my husband blow jobs while he's driving. Ah, those were the days.