wouldn't it be weird if blogging women cycled at the same time?

(my ol' bike, named "ajax", from electra ...)

but i'm not talking about uni-, bi-, tri- or motor-. i have cycles on the brain, gentle reader...

i was just thinking about when i worked at an art gallery and all four of us realized one freakish day that we were all cycling at the same time. (yep, i'm talking about "the curse", "aunt flo", my "friend".)

i think it's because of the charting. the temp taking, the... um, gathering of input material for... nevermind. it's supposed to be this useful tool in predicting when i am at my most fecund (love that word. so pre-raphaelite. so jessica rabbit).

it's supposed to help me take charge of my fertility! so far, it's bearing a stronger resemblance to a useless extra screw from a bookcase which has more control over me than i have of it. but that's a subject for another unread post.

anyway, according to my chart, i'm just another day or so away from my "rose parade". i really want to be optimistic since i recently had so much sex that i thought i sprained my hair. i had optimal cervical fluid. it was right before ovulation. my temperature is up. yada yada yada - all that good stuff. but i can only remain in denial for so long - the cramping is too obvious and my devouring chocolate is so obscene, it borders on the pornographic. oh, and i can't stop snapping my husband's head off when he says "hi".

ok, stream of pms consciousness shift here - so, i read somewhere that a pregnant woman carrying a daughter is also carrying her grandchild since every female fetus contains all the eggs the newborn child will have. how cool is that?! well, ok, i can accept that i'm the only one who thinks it's very cool.

i really want to have another child. i want my daughter to have a sibling. i really would like my husband to have a son. i know there's always adoption. it's an option that we were open to long ago. but, i LOVED being pregnant. i actually miss it.

anyway, i'm going to bed now if only to apologize profusely to my wonderful husband. it's weird though how an apology can feel so commonplace now, and maybe useless in a way, like teaching a turtle how to fetch.