Uncommon Misconception

On Fluid Dynamics and Vampire Erections

This post is likely to do several things:

1. Get all sorts of clicks from people on the fringe searching for p0rn of the decidedly strange variety.

2. Convince you that I'm way more weird than you initially suspected.

3. Renew your interest in my blog on the off chance I find more ways to string together unlikely phrases like the one in this title.

4. Embarrass the hell out of me on several counts.

Shall we proceed?

Let me start by saying that I blame this entire post fully on my two best friends for passing along the (embarrassing) sickness that is the Twilight series.  Yep.  All on them.

I watched my friends succumb to these books one by one, their circles of conversation growing at each Mom's Night to include more and more nodding heads until, finally, I was left alone, frowning on the fringes and rolling my eyes until they damned near hurt.

C'mon, folks!  It's teenaged vampire fiction!  Junior high girls are forming camps dedicated to promoting one made-up boy over another!  You can't possibly be serious.

Surely, you know where this is going.

In a moment of weakness, while using my friend's home library as a personal book store (what? you would, too.) I took the first book home with me.  The writing wasn't great, but the plot was decent.  I read through it in an average amount of time, but I couldn't really see what the whole huge fuss was about.  Still, I asked for the next book.

In many ways, it was like Todd's first experience with sushi.  One of the first times he'd ever met my mom, we went for sushi.  Todd had never tried it and only caved agreed after my mom made a handful of disparaging comments about his manliness for refusing to eat it.  "It was okay," he concluded, "but it's not like I'll be craving it."  A few short months later, sushi topped Todd's list as his all-time favorite food choice.

I read the second book in four days time, all while maintaining my work and childcare duties.  You'll notice household duties weren't mentioned.  Begrudgingly, I admitted that I was into the characters.  I still found room to make fun of her repetitive use of language, but the plot had me hooked.

More to the point, the infuriatingly never-consumated soft-core make-out action had me hooked.  "COME ON!" I'd yell in my head, "just DO IT already!!" (Hey, I never claimed to be the poster child for chastity or self-constraint.)

"But he might kill her if they did!" my friends would argue.  "Whatever." was my clever retort.

And here's where it gets really embarrassing.  I solicited the third book (there are four, for those of you bright enough to steer clear, and each is longer than the previous) and read it in four days as well - all 700 pages.  But it wasn't until half way through the third book that a huge question popped into my head that I couldn't swat away.

Now, I don't claim to be a medical doctor or a vampire expert, and I realize that this is all purely fiction.  But I do fancy myself passingly familiar with basic biology and how the male, um, apparatus functions.  So, while reading a particularly steamy scene in the book, two thoughts collided:

1. Vampires' hearts don't beat.

2. I'm relatively sure that strong blood flow is essential for an erection.

Am I wrong? Do vampires have some other physiology that allows this particular... function?  All muscle? Magic? Mind-over-body?

Then there was a third thought:

3. How horribly weird and wrong am I for thinking these thoughts and then following them through... all the way to a blog post?!

Perhaps the fourth book explains it all.  I'll have to see.  But from where I stand right now, I remain thoroughly confused, both by the facts and my apparent willingness to discuss them with you.

A Partial Exhalation

So far so good.  Next weekend will be the true test, but I'm feeling pretty good about our odds of escaping unscathed.

Hey, I Know!

How 'bout a giveaway?!

My good friend does a little work on the side representing HAPPYBABY baby food.  Wait, is that redundant?  Anyhoo... apparently my Caroline loves the HAPPYBABY green puffs, and I've heard nothing but rave reviews from my neighbor and other moms about their baby food line in general.

But what I really love is the fact that there's a woman entrepreneur at the heart of this company.  I'm a sucker for those.  And, HAPPYBABY is up for the Shine a Light competition.  So go cast a vote for a do-gooder company, run by a woman, in service of babies.  It's a gazillion warm-fuzzies all rolled in to one!

Then, leave a comment by Wednesday, Oct 7th (one please!) and I'll enter you in a drawing for $40 worth of free baby and toddler meals and snacks from HAPPYBABY.  Don't have a kid?  Enter anyway - you can send the prize to a lucky baby of your choosing.

What are you waiting for?!  Comment!

Perhaps?

This is going to be intentionally vague, but if you happen to have account management/project management/client-facing experience, or a background in marketing, and you're passionate about education... drop me a line.  I may have a gig for you.

Grandpa's in Town

My dad is in town today.  He arrived yesterday, in time to spend most of the afternoon pushing on the girls on the swings in the backyard.  It's only 8:30 a.m. and already he's explaining the concept of cells to Hannah.  :)

He can only stay until tomorrow, but I'm hoping he'll answer some of her other hot-topic questions, like "How does electricity work?" and "Is magic real?" before he leaves.

Episode 692, In Which We Hold Our Breath

Did you know that once one falls out of the habit of openly discussing one's vagina and uterus in a public forum, it can be difficult to get back into the swing of it?  Did you know that it becomes exponentially more challenging when one realizes that one's FATHER has commented on her blog, which, by extrapolation implies he is READING at least some of her blog.  As if it weren't hard enough knowing one's mother is reading all...

But talking about my girl bits is really what this whole thing used to be about, at least in part.  So I would feel weird not mentioning recent events.  Disingenuous somehow.

Here we go... (Mom, feel free to skip this one, and Dad, dear god... step away and avert your eyes!)

Some relevant prefacing information:

I haven't been on the "mini-pill" for roughly two months.  There are two causes: 1) There was a time when the $15 copay was literally too much.  Condoms were free (because we already had them) and every dollar counted.  Then, it came 'round to time for my annual physical, and I had no money for the office visit, so I didn't schedule it.  Which meant my prescription ran out.

This was fine because we were both so emotionally and physically exhausted that sex was more of a rarity than ever.  I even got another period - my first since Easter, which was my first post-Caroline.  Once I got my new gig, I planned to set my annual physical, get on a for-reals, full-strength birth control pill, and move on down the road.

(preface over)

Everything was fine and dandy until Friday night, when we experienced a massive FAIL.  MASSIVE, MASSIVE FAIL.  I blame Todd entirely.  It was a case of user error and product malfunction.  Oh, screw it, the condom broke.  "Shredded" was the word Todd used.

Given the relative distance from my period and my "mood" that evening and proceeding days ("randy", one might say - were one British), I surmised that there was a VERY REAL RISK that I might be OVULATING.  Making this MASSIVE FAILURE an even more horrifying event.

Todd and I spent the rest of the night and all of the next day in a panic-stricken, pale-faced stupor. 

Even if it weren't for the fact that we've only just begun to be able to afford groceries, and only just narrowly avoided bankruptcy, and only just scheduled doctors and dentists visits, EVEN IF...

INDEPENDENT HEALTH INSURANCE DOESN'T COVER PREGNANCY!

We cannot - repeat, CANNOT - get pregnant now.  And none of it has a speck to do with whether or not we want another child.  As long as Todd and I are independent contractors, as long as we stick it out as entrepreneurs, we cannot have a baby.

The sort of high-risk, massively tested, watched, measured, and generally freaked-out variety of pregnancies I produce are bank-breaking even WITH health insurance (to the tune of $17K and $4K, respectively).  Without it, it's simply not feasible.

That left me with one option: Plan B.

And lemme just say, thank God for recent commercials advocating the availability of emergency contraception.  Had I not just seen an ad a week before, it might have escaped my rather-dubious thoughts through this whole event.

Because of that commercial, I went on-line, did some quick research, then hauled myself to Target and bellied up to the pharmacy counter with my two kids in the cart to purchase Plan B.  Based on previous reactions to hormones, I was expecting some pretty rough hours of vomiting and headache - which was a fun prospect given I had a party to go to and was in the early stages of a cold.

But to my great relief, I got neither, and felt just fine.  I took the pill early, and it should be about 75-80% effective.  Which is helpful, but by no means allays my fears in total.

In about two weeks I'll take a pregnancy test, and then, assuming it's negative, I'll take another a week later, just to be sure.

After years of praying and doing everything in my power to get pregnant and carry to term, it felt highly, highly unusual to do something in the complete opposite direction.  It also felt weird to stand at the pharmacy counter hollering "PLAN B? DO YOU HAVE IT?" to the tech who insisted on asking me how she could help from the back of their little room.  It felt weird to be in my 30s with two kids and feelings so very teenaged and freaked-out.

I wish this weren't the situation.  I wish Todd and I could have approached this situation from the vantage point of "What would life be like with three kids?" rather than, "This will be the end of us." - all because of health insurance.

I'm not saying the decision would have been different.  I'm just saying we'll never know.  And it's because we cannot buy health insurance that will cover pregnancy on our own - it doesn't exist*.

So for the next weeks, we'll be on pins and needles, praying that we've dodged a huge, huge bullet.  And its such a contrary prayer to the ones I've uttered in the past.  As always, I'll keep you posted.

*on the independent market, you can only find maternity "riders" which limit total coverage to a number that is equal to the cost of the monthly fee (if you do the math - which we did).

Palpable

I don't think I can overestimate the level of relief around these parts.  This weekend we went to a friend's house for some football and general hanging-out, and I bubbled along striking up conversations, asking how other people were, going on about my new job, and... wait for it... SMILING.

Over the past year, I generally dreaded social functions.  Even just going to the bookstore for mom's night inspired negative thoughts of what I couldn't have (over-priced coffee and pastries) and conversations I didn't want to have (vacations, ballet lessons, or anything else that seemed to highlight our lack of money).  The result was a watered-down, under-engaged, unsmiling me.

I hated being that way.  I knew I was doing it, and struggled to be less selfish - to find joy in other people's successes and normalcy - but I'm afraid it failed more often than not.

Now that I'm not horrified about losing our home, being unable to feed our kids, or pay for any doctor visits, life is tangibly better.  And I imagine others are noticing. 

Yes, I'm aware that sounds self-centered, but my friends are generally perceptive and I'm sure they've picked up on my general malaise.  So it's got to be some small measure of relief to see me being anything other than drab and Debbie Downer. 

______________________________

I'm loving my job.  In a bit of irony, I spend all day thinking about social media strategy, but now find myself with infinitely less time to actually blog.  Hopefully I'll find a level of stasis soon and get back to posting more often... about happier times.

The Picture of Postponement

Things are great! Busy - and I continue to stay up to late reading - but great nonetheless.  My schedule this week is borderline ridiculous as I've started the new job and have a couple of big deadlines for existing clients.  So these are just to say... well, technically, there just not to say.

 

You're welcome.

A Few Details

Some of you asked (rightfully so) if I might fill you in on a few more details about my new gig.  Having a few days to process has helped.  I had purposefully distanced myself from this job during the hiring process because I've had too many near misses this year to allow myself to get wound up when nothing is definite.

But now that I know the job is mine, I can't help but feel astoundingly lucky to have found this particular position.

Because this is still my private blog - and most certainly the place I come to talk when I can't even bring myself to reach out in person - I won't be mentioning the company name here.  In fact, maybe we'll just call it The Company.  Good?  Okay then.

The Company works in education.  And my role is as a director level position.  Most of my duties revolve around marketing, specifically social media.  Everything I've done in my career dovetails with this role.  And my new colleagues recognize this.

But what's better, they operate from a virtual office and apparently follow the same approach I do.  Which is: Get the job done right, on deadline, and to the best of your capabilities.  Clocking in, ticking off vacation days - none of that ranks high on anyone's list.  It's a company staffed by entrepreneurs.

My work with them is on a contract basis (monthly retainer) through the end of the year, when it will (assuming all goes well) become a full-time job.  The sort where someone provides benefits and takes taxes out for me, and the word "refund" isn't laced with irony.

It's still taking some effort to let the goodness of this set in.  I'm looking forward to returning to my more polyanna-ish roots.

Don't get me wrong, we will still be living lean (very, very lean) for the next few years.  But this job means we won't have to move forward with the bankruptcy.  And it means the girls can go back to part-time daycare (we found one we loved on Friday!), and it means I won't have to cry after every grocery shopping trip or put off family check-ups.

And for that, I am so completely grateful.  Here's to putting the "labor" back in Labor Day!

I GOT IT, I GOT IT, I GOT IT!

They love me, they really, really love me!!

No negotiations, just a straight up "YES!"  In fact, the email was aptly titled "We want YOU!!!"

I've practically hyperventilated for the sighs of relief.  I cried a bit, danced and jumped around, and then Todd led the girls in a collective cheer of "YAY MOMMY!!"

I cannot tell you what this means for us.  Or maybe I could.  Maybe you already know.  Maybe you get it.  But there's no way I can mentally process this enough to provide a cogent post.

Just allow me to tell you that I am certain your collective support played a large role.

Holy crap, am I relieved.