It's the Estrogen Talking

I miss the Central Time Zone. I don't like television shows being on so late. Who thought it would be a good idea for prime time to start at 8 PM? Hate it.

I'm tired, and I feel PMS flowing through my veins. It's that time of the month when I feel there is no hope, and I am destined to be a failure. I hate everything, and I can't handle even an iota of stress without feeling strung out. It's a state of 24 hour overwhelm. Nothing but glum for me, baby. I'm gonna menstruate.

It's doesn't seem like it's time again already. It seems like only a couple weeks ago I was thanking the hospital discharge gods that they set Booie free before I had to deal with hospital menstruation. Sharing a bathroom was bad enough as it was. Now I'm back to my thankless self, wondering how it got to be halfway through February already. Time flies once it's gone, and you have a Tampax box of Super Heavy's with your name on it.

I'm still not back on the pill. It would sure help reduce the flow built for two, but it also reduces my libido to -2�. I'm more embarrassed buying condoms now than when I was at 16, but it's better than the icicle that is me on the pill. Sure I have to deal with cyst pain, but dammit, I like to like sex. I like sex too much to not want to have it. That means no pill, and that means value-pack condoms because John isn't ready to make that date with a bottle of whiskey and a doctor who would put a sharp instrument within range of his balls. We're married with kids and still use condoms. That's how much we like sex but don't like more babies.

I set a cutoff date for babies. That was when I turned 30. It's not that I have a problem with becoming a mother after 30, but I did have a problem with me in that role. Since I gave up the free-living life early (I was pregnant on my 21st birthday. Ask me how much that sucks.), I wanted time to have fun while still being young enough to appreciate it. I also didn't want my oldest child be capable of fathering my youngest child. Plus, 30 seemed like a nice cutoff. Take the two good reasons and put it with the goofy reason, and you have a woman who was done after 30.

We thought about a third child once in a while up until that time. Sometimes I thought John really wanted another. I don't know if that was his regret talking or just a real desire. Being responsible though, the idea never caused serious consideration. We weren't in any financial condition to have another child, and our relationship certainly didn't need the added strain. We were smart enough to know a baby doesn't make you closer as a couple.

I had my own set of reasons for not wanting another baby too. The idea of going through another hellacious delivery really didn't appeal to me. Neither did gaining 45-65 pounds or having John be a shitty husband to his pregnant wife (Remember that comment about regrets? There you go.) Add my state of overwhelm as a mother of only two, and three sounds like a very bad idea. I'm not so hip on the idea of producing more children than there is to replace us either, even though child #1 is replacing the ex. No use in creating even more kids the earth can't support. And a last, minor deterrent are three little words that cause the scale to topple over on the negative side: three bedroom house. All my reasons plus all our reasons equal capital N, capital O.

So I'm done having babies, and I don't regret it. The only good thing would be I wouldn't be having PMS right now.

And a few Valentine's thoughts before I go: