tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27373975644688459082024-03-05T12:10:09.353-06:00The Brazen BunnyMy experience and stumbles with polyamory and a sex positive life. Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-74410750106403288812015-08-20T04:35:00.000-05:002015-08-20T04:35:17.273-05:00Poly isn't my dirty little secret anymore. It's been over three years since we opened our marriage. Over three years since I began seeing my boyfriend. It hasn't always been easy, but I maintain that it has always been worth the hassle. A few months ago, I decided to jump off the cliff and post to Facebook about being poly. My husband and I changed our relationship status to "in an open relationship." The post got a fair amount of likes and comments, especially from my supportive friends. No one said anything negative on the post or to my face. No one's really asked me about it. I don't know for sure if my conservative family members have not noticed the change or have decided not to say anything. (After all, the attention would just encourage my desire to shock and outrage... *eyeroll* ...because I live my life for them.)<br />
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Since I had already told everyone close to me, beyond the immediate outpouring of support, my life has changed very little. I can't assume that people know what it means when I say I am poly. I was at a party recently with my boyfriend where I mentioned my wedding in conversation with someone I didn't know previously. I realized that I would have to clarify that I was not married to the man I was at the party with, which I did, drunkly and awkwardly. Going to a party as a couple was nice. We took advantage of the make-out room and got charged up for going back to his apartment. Knowing that I have eliminated all risks associated with being discovered is freeing.<br />
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I still can't mention my boyfriend in casual conversation and know that people know what I mean. Still, I can now live like I have nothing to hide. I've been able to meet with my boyfriend and his family at places near me and not feel concerned about people I know seeing me and having suspicions. It's pretty clear that I have nothing to hide when it's right out on Facebook. Let them worry and wring their hands about whether or not they need to disclose something. In the wake of the Ashley Madison hack, it's soothing to know that some violation of privacy won't make my relationship(s) fall apart. <br />
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In the beginning, I relished the moment of sharing my lurid secret life. It's still exciting at times and leads to interesting conversations, but more often it leads to uncomfortable conversations and me feeling like I have to over-explain. I'm also hesitant to turn conversations toward me. I wish people would ask more questions, I guess. In some ways it feels so normal, but having multiple lovers keeps life exciting in obvious ways. <br />
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I still haven't figured out how to date girls, but life always needs some challenges, huh? <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-29062038592418730392014-08-18T05:18:00.000-05:002014-08-18T05:18:03.706-05:00On Little Freedoms that Poly Makes PossibleI work the night shift, which leaves me awake late into the night even on my nights off. It also makes it difficult to be active and maintain any sort of regular exercise routine. I enjoy physical activity, but I don't take well to routines. I'm not the type of person that can make a habit of going to the gym or using an elliptical or anything of that nature. <br />
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I am the sort of person that likes little adventures. I like the night. I like riding my bicycle and I like exploring. Riding around on a bicycle alone in the wee hours of the morning as a lone woman is risky behavior, if you ask some. My husband is uneasy about it. I feel relatively safe while sticking to main roads and areas that are well lit and well travelled. I don't believe in not doing things because something bad might happen. <br />
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Tonight, I texted a friend. This friend is someone I have slept with in the relatively recent past. I asked him if he wanted to go for a bike ride. A bit later, around 1am, he responded and said yes! I met him at his house and we explored a new leg of the bike trail network that winds through our city. It was dark. There was almost no traffic. It was quite. The trail follows a creek and some small ponds. It had rained earlier tonight and it was hazy. We couldn't see very far ahead of us on the trail. We stopped at a quiet and secluded section of the trail and made out for a bit. Then sat and talked for a while before riding back home and to our separate lives.<br />
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It was a small adventure and a bit of freedom that wouldn't have been possible before we became poly. Making out with someone under the moon on a dark and hazy stretch of trail... These are moments that make life fun. The things I dreamed of when I was a horny teenager aching for adventure when I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to make out with boys. Being poly makes me feel young.Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-35918164311383225882014-01-10T08:00:00.000-06:002014-01-10T08:00:02.551-06:00A Pang of Jealousy, Quickly Reasoned AwayFor obvious reasons, I haven't written in a while. There's not a whole lot to write about. I'm in two stable long term relationships. I work at least full time, often picking up extra shifts, and I have a child who is now nearly 9 months old. Things aren't all that exciting. My husband isn't dating out of choice. I'm not dating (as in anyone new) out of respect for his wishes and a lack of time. My husband is a stay at home dad.<br />
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My dates with David (the clues are here, I'm tired of the code names) are simple. I drive out to see him. We eat. Sometimes with his wife and sometimes not. We hang out until his child goes to sleep. We have sex. It's easy. It's comfortable. It's fun. Sometimes I miss going out, but due to the limitations of geography, it's difficult for us to go out and have sex. I prefer to include sex in our dates. I recently noticed potential plans to go out with someone else on his calendar and felt a small pang of the green eyed monster. I thought, "Hey! I'd like to do that! Why not me?" Then all the obvious reasons struck me along with all of the great things I have in this relationship. <br />
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As time has gone on, I can only continue to marvel at the fortune I stumbled upon when I clicked on his profile and he decided to write me. I'm not trying to inflate his ego when I write that, the two of us together make for a really great secondary relationship. It might sound boring... eating, watching stuff, fucking and cuddling... but it's not. It is comforting and fun. So what that I don't get to go out with him right now. I have a sub-one-year-old child, I don't get to go out, period. I will again in the future. What we have is so much more awesome than going out. <br />
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While I will occasionally think back on things we did in the past, I know that those things will come around again and in the meantime, I get some things I value more than spending money and drinking in public. I stand by my statement that I prefer to fuck and cuddle than go out. I can go out with my girl friends. I can go out with my coworkers. I can't get the Fuck and Cuddle treatment anywhere else, not with the Satisfaction Guarantee I have with David. I get all of that with no conflict... Sheesh. The next time my brain tries to make me feel bad about any of this, I'm poking it hard with a sharp stick. "Behave in there brain! What's wrong with you!" <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-58382910220893128252013-11-15T02:40:00.003-06:002013-11-15T02:40:51.622-06:00Do you really need to discuss these things before marriage? I don't think so....<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/11/09/marriage-advice_n_4236592.html">This HuffPo</a> article lists 35 things that you "absolutely must agree upon before marriage." Some of the things listed are "Coke or Pepsi?" and "Cold pizza: yes or no?" <br />
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Do people get divorced over pizza and soda? Or about how the toilet paper hangs off the roll? Do relationships fall apart at the seams because one person likes roller coasters and the other doesn't? Should breakfast for dinner be a deal breaker? This list is preposterous. If you are considering marrying someone, their preference for mayo or miracle whip probably shouldn't factor into it. There is room for both in the fridge, really. I don't have any studies to back this up, but I'm pretty sure sandwich condiment preferences don't predict successful relationships. <br />
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What is important is how you talk about these 35 things. If you are considering marrying someone who refuses to have mayo in the house and demands that you learn to love miracle whip, that should be a deal breaker. If you can't handle the remote being misplaced once in while, you should probably live alone, forever. Maybe the point is to have practice conversations about little things that don't matter to gear up for the big ones. I see some pretty glaring omissions. I guess if you can have a serious conversation about the toothpaste cap then you can graduate to discussing things like shared bank accounts and kids. That must be the author's intent.... nope? Well, damn. First of all, no one will agree on all of these things. Second, if these things haunt your marriage, you are probably doomed and someone should speak instead of forever holding their peace.<br />
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Here are is a short and incomplete list of serious things I think you should talk about before marriage. <br />
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<li>Kids, duh. </li>
<li>Where to live</li>
<li>Will anyone stay home? Who will work?</li>
<li>Money and debt. </li>
<li>To share a bank account or not? </li>
<li>If you don't like roller coasters, can I go ride them with my friends? Me time and privacy. Will you be allowed unlimited access to each other's Facebook or will you allow each other some privacy?</li>
<li>Religion and it's place or absence in your lives. </li>
<li>Sex. Make a yes/no/maybe list or at least a verbal one.</li>
<li>Marriage counseling. Agree in advance to go if things get tough in the future. </li>
<li>Whatever is important to you, not what some silly article says you should talk about. </li>
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(I can't for the life of me figure out why it matters if my spouse likes cold pizza and I don't. It's pizza. He can eat it cold and I can eat it hot. Modern kitchen appliances allow for great possibilities in this area.) </div>
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-46494722712117350952013-06-19T12:00:00.000-05:002013-06-20T08:23:57.907-05:00Poly: Year One Analysis Part TwoI've already posted a <a href="http://brazenbunny.blogspot.com/2013/03/poly-year-one-analysis.html">retrospective</a> of our <a href="http://brazenbunny.blogspot.com/2013/03/poly-year-one-summary.html">first year experience</a>. Here I will discuss what I learned from what we did right.<br />
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<b>We Approached It With Enthusiasm for Ourselves and Each Other</b><br />
Truly, we had the best intentions for each other from the beginning. I didn't want him held back from life experiences because of me. We both wanted freedom and each other. We both wanted to make sure the other one was comfortable with things before moving forward. We were excited, maybe a little too excited, by the new possibilities that lay before us. We had fun discussing things before we ventured forth. The sex we had was always great, but the new level of openness between us allowed a new excitement and new experiences between each other.<br />
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<b>Telling Our Friends and Some Family Created a Support Network</b><br />
We weren't alone. Having our closest friends and select family members in on the secret meant we could go to them when we needed to air things. I love sharing stories. If I had to keep all the NRE to myself at the beginning of things between me and NMB, I would have exploded! At least sharing it with my friends kept my poor husband from bearing the full load of things. When things went sour, people who knew about the open relationship also knew that we had gotten good experiences out of it. I could discuss the problems we were having without having to disclose the open relationship and having people immediately blame everything on poly. "No, wait! It's really what we both want, it's just gotten away from us!"<br />
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<b>We Started With Rules, But We Renegotiated Many of Them Quickly and Easily</b><br />
We started out discussing things like "No sex with others in our bed" and "No anal sex with others". When these things became impractical, we renegotiated quickly and easily. We kept communication open instead of holding fast to our rules. Rules are a sensitive subject and one of those things experienced poly folk often criticize new poly folk for, but this is one area where we handled things the right way, I think. Rules can be a tool to create comfort and build trust in the lifestyle. Poly Man Whore had a <a href="http://polymanwhore.wordpress.com/2012/06/26/poly-rules-are-bullshit/">post</a> a while back stating that rules were proof that you didn't trust your partner. Maybe so, but it also takes time to build trust in the poly lifestyle and learn the skills to make it work. Rules can help protect you while you get there if you don't cling to them too desperately.<br />
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<b>Initially, Our Communication Improved</b><br />
As I previously touched on, we were all about sharing in the beginning. We talked about a lot of what-ifs. We shared sexual fantasies that we hadn't been completely open about. We had always been fairly open about who we found attractive, but now we could be really honest without fear of hurting each other's feelings. I could say to my husband, "I'd like to fuck that guy." I'm ashamed to admit that I used to have some jealousy issues with him looking at porn. Not that I had ever told him he couldn't, but it was something I didn't like to think about due to insecurity on my part. This was quickly resolved when we started exploring being open. A year later, we watch porn together and I'm mostly unfazed when he sleeps with someone new. I found my compersion and I want him to have good experiences. <br />
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<b>Meeting the Local Poly Group</b><br />
This was one of the first things I did before we actually opened. I looked up locals in nearby Big City and I went to a small social event at someone's house. Meeting some people in the real world that make this happen gave me the confidence to move forward and give it all a try. Without having had that experience, I would have been much slower to make moves. After getting a good sample size of poly people who were nerdy, intelligent, interesting, well-educated, grounded and stable, I started to feel like it was possible to make it work in a way that I could live with. (Side note: I'm glad I found the one poly group that I did first. I went to one meeting of another group and the best way I can describe it is that it felt "cultish". I may have walked away with a different opinion. That group and it's vibe might work for other people, but it did not work for me.)<br />
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<b>The Internet Was a Fantastic Resource</b><br />
I read a lot. When I was having a particularly difficult time with jealousy in the beginning, I did some Google searching and found <a href="http://www.morethantwo.com/">More Than Two</a>. I can't recommend it enough as a free and comprehensive resource. It's full of helpful tools. The Internet lead me to the aforementioned local poly group. The Internet gave us OkCupid and my boyfriend. I continue to listen to the <a href="http://www.savagelovecast.com/">Savage Lovecast </a>and learn more about other people's monogomish lifestyles. I posted on <a href="http://www.reddit.com/r/polyamory">r/polyamory</a> when things got bad and reached out for the support of experienced poly people who like to write about it. I used it to find the local poly group. The books we read, The Ethical Slut and Opening Up were great, but the Internet gave us a searchable limitless database of other's experiences and lessons-learned. Many people have noted that widespread access to the Internet has likely contributed to the growth of polyamory. If I had not been exposed to the idea, I never would have come to it on my own.<br />
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<b><br /></b>Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-42915245622337011912013-05-21T08:00:00.000-05:002013-05-21T08:00:01.300-05:00Adventures in Public Breastfeeding: The Graduation<div>
I've been slacking on my blog. I promise I will publish a birth story at the very least and catch up on all my half written posts, but first I am inspired to tell this story. </div>
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This past evening I attended my brother's junior high graduation. I brought along my kid. In the 3 weeks since he has been born, I've practiced public breastfeeding in a variety of locations including a nursing school graduation, an outdoor market and several restaurants. I know the law in my state states that I can breastfeed my child any place that I am authorized to be, the only exception being churches who are allowed to make their own rules. Since you aren't likely to find me in a church, that means I can whip it out anywhere and feed my kid. Incidental exposure of my nipple is irrelevant, according to the law. <div>
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That said, I did feel slightly uncomfortable when my son started crying at the graduation. I was seated in the middle of the room, right by the center aisle. I elected to first calm him and then offer him the boob so as to attract less attention to myself while I got him to latch. My plan was working. Kiddo settled down and I exposed my breast momentarily while he latched. My mom was sitting next to me and reached over to try to cover me. </div>
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"I don't need a cover." I said. Unfortunately, this may be the one time I did, as I looked up to see my friend's kid pointing his camera at me. He had run down the center aisle in the middle of the ceremony to do this. Now, this kid is autism spectrum, so his behavior can be more easily forgiven than a typical 14 year old. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing and why the people around us were laughing. I laughed too, but I also let my friend know what had happened. </div>
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Now, some people might argue that this is exactly why women shouldn't breastfeed in public. Here we have an impressionable young man who was witness to my *gasp* breasts in a public setting. At a graduation, for cryin out loud! A gymnasium filled with impressionable young minds! </div>
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This is incorrect thinking. I did nothing wrong. I fed my baby. The young man was the one in the wrong. Photographing my exposed breast without my consent was completely inappropriate. Likely, up until this point, all of his experience with breasts was through photos or videos on the Internet. Of course it seemed appropriate to photograph this boob. Since breastfeeding isn't something we see very often, he didn't know that this was different from the boobs he's experienced in the past. </div>
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The outcome of this situation is exactly what should have happened. His mother was informed of his actions, she corrected his behavior and he apologized to me. He has been educated on breastfeeding and appropriate camera use. Again, please remember that he is autism spectrum and thus has a different understanding of social rules. It does not come naturally for him to predict the correct social behavior. </div>
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When I prepared myself for breastfeeding in public, I did not prepare myself for this occurrence. However, I think I handled it well. The important thing is that my child was able to eat and I wasn't hassled for feeding him in the most natural and simple way that there is. </div>
Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-7771271215154626882013-04-20T01:10:00.000-05:002013-04-20T01:10:17.859-05:00Impressions of a Clothing Optional PartyI had hoped to go to a clothing optional party while I was pregnant. I have not been to an event like this before, but I liked the idea of walking around naked with my pregnant body. Honestly, I feel like I look better naked than with clothes on at this point. Clothes inevitably make me look bigger than I am. They hang off my bump and make every dress or loose top look like a moo-moo. At least when I'm naked, what you see is what you get. I don't hate my body, I'm just kinda sick of the physical limitations that pregnancy has bestowed on me. As we speak I am hoping to induce labor before the weekend. I want my body back. So, my chance to go to an event like this as a massively pregnant person was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It happened that I made it to the night of the party without going into labor. It also happened that I was feeling pretty good. The husband had a date in Big City planned for the same night, so I didn't have to worry about driving home in the early stages of labor should that start. I could just call him to pick me up. My boyfriend had secured my invite. I had no excuses. Anxieties be damned. It had to happen. <div>
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Knowing that my name was on a list and having attended some kink events, I was expecting a certain level of scrutiny upon arriving. I was quite surprised when I knocked and someone called out, "Come on in" A towel blocked the window of the door, but I could see enough flesh around it that I knew I was in the right place. I walked in and joined a roomful of mostly nude people milling about and talking. Other than the lack of clothing, it was a typical party atmosphere with chatter a murmuring throughout the room. No one stopped me and asked for my name. No one questioned my reason for being there. The first person to talk to me was someone I recognized from some poly meetings. Unfortunately, when you are about as pregnant as one can be and you arrive at a clothing optional party the very first question you have is "Where is the bathroom?" Once that was settled, I met the organizer of the party and figured out my next move... exactly how does one get naked at a clothing optional party? The party organizer confirmed that I was Brazen Bunny and that I had received the e-mail with the rules. Although I had received the email, I had a moment of brief mental panic. "Maybe I missed something... there weren't nearly enough rules, were there? Surely..." Then I reminded myself that I have common sense and I did get the email. After asking, I was directed to a room upstairs where I might put my stuff and shed my clothing. </div>
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Again, having attended a few large kink events where I found myself under intense scrutiny, I was surprised at the welcoming and laid back nature of this event. The rules were basically thus: </div>
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1) Be sanitary. Carry a towel like a good hitchhiker and place it between your naked bits and the furniture should you chance to come in contact with it. </blockquote>
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2) Respect your fellow person. Don't be a dick. Don't do anything to make anyone feel uncomfortable. </blockquote>
You know what? It worked. Those simple rules were followed. No one even touched my belly without asking. It was a shockingly comfortable environment. I emerged from an upstairs bedroom in only my purple cotton panties. I joined the people that I knew and indulged in some food. A typical party atmosphere with nudity commenced. I met some new people, re-familiarized myself with some people I had met in the past and spent some time with my boyfriend and our line of poly relationships. I ate some delicious candied bacon and a chocolate cupcake. I stood in a group talking until I could stand no longer and we retired to the "cuddle pit" which was kind of the best place for a pregnant lady to be. Here we relaxed as a group and cuddled and talked. Turns out it's really easy to tell when a clothing optional party is winding down... you see less and less naked people. <br />
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Impressions? Well... bodies are nice to look at and although I appreciated seeing some very attractive people, it definitely wasn't the focus of my attention. Being in a room with so many body types, I found myself focusing on only the good features of everyone. This is the opposite of what people often do when looking at pictures of attractive people. They tend to downplay good features and point out what is fake versus real. In a room full of real life naked people, you just sort of take it all in and bask in the available nice features to observe. At least that's how my brain responded, but I get the feeling that most people there operated like that. No one was there to make anyone else feel bad. But overall, it was about a feeling of freedom and a general social environment. One side effect of having no clothes on is that there were no distractions from the social event at hand. You had food and your fellow party goers to talk to. No one was checking their phone. Eye contact? When you are worried about your eyes resting too long on a bare breast or a nice looking butt, it becomes easy to look someone in the face while you are talking to them. Social interactions change in a positive way when everyone is nude. At least that's what I can tell from my first experience with such things. I expect I'll gain more experience in the future. I can proudly say that I have attended my first clothing-optional event as pregnant as one can be. I had fun and walked away feeling good. I can not say that attending threw me into labor. This is too bad. <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-65287282388944050702013-04-16T00:30:00.002-05:002013-04-16T00:30:56.113-05:00An Unexpected Third It may have been somewhat absurdly timed, as things often are in my world, but the husband and I had an experience last night. Well, two experiences, really. I suppose it would be best for me to write about them separately, even though they were really one. We had sex with a third party. I had sex with a female-bodied person. This happened while I am 38 weeks pregnant! What the hell, Life? You are one tricky MF. Way to keep me on my toes! Perhaps the hormones of impending motherhood are making me extra mushy, but this was a profound experience for me in several ways and I don't know that I have completely processed it yet. I'm not going to write out a play by play. Trust me, it was hot, but I want to write about the feels. <div>
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First, there is the experience we had as a couple. I've blogged before about the challenges we've encountered with opening our marriage and the added stress of the pregnancy. Last night felt like the bookend to the beginning stages. I feel like we've achieved a comfort level together that was difficult to imagine not that long ago. The experience closed the first chapter on our poly life. We have graduated. I faced one of my fears in watching him with someone else. Coming from someone who once demanded a Don't Ask Don't Tell policy with my husband's porn viewing, this is a Big Deal. (This is not something I'm proud of, but it's true, blaming my Catholic upbringing goes a long way for crap like this.) It's a good example of how much I've managed to grow as a person in the last year. My confidence and security has increased exponentially. I watched him flirt and wrestle and eventually kiss another person and I never felt the slightest twinge of jealousy or anything icky. I was turned on! Compersion, I has it. My emotional homework was done and I was prepared for the test. I didn't have to think. The answers were there. I was proud of the way we communicated in the beginning and throughout the experience. It demonstrated our comfort level and the skills that we've learned. I can't say that I didn't have any insecurities. Having a new sex partner at this late stage of pregnancy did arouse some misgivings about my physical state, but I was reassured in a way that made me comfortable again. The whole thing felt natural and organic and comfortable and just nice... I did not expect it to be like that. I expected a certain amount of discomfort for my first experience. I was prepared to tread very carefully and take things slowly so that I could handle the negative emotions that were bound to come up. The negativity never happened. In the possibility of outcomes that I considered, one where everything went perfectly had never seemed a possibility. I just wanted to fuck up as little as possible. This is why I feel like we've graduated. We aren't noobs anymore. We can get things right the first time and walk away from a new and potentially delicate experience feeling good. </div>
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The second part of this is my first experience with a female bodied person. I first recognized my attraction to women in high school. Aside from a few experiences during truth or dare games while drinking underage, I had not had the opportunity to explore this side of my sexuality outside of my head. I had gone from one monogamous relationship with a man to another and at some point I started assuming that I wasn't bisexual at all. I wrote it off as teenage hormones being out of control. Why not? I was perfectly satisfied with my male partners. Opening had the side effect of reminding me of my attraction to women and gave me the opportunity to explore this again. There were a few awkward and uncomfortable dates at the beginning of my OkC exploration, but again life got in the way and I decided not to pursue the experience at this time. Then there was pregnancy and I put all new dating on hold. Again, I was looking at an unspecified date sometime far in the future to fulfill my desire for exploration with a female. I had accepted this. </div>
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Thanks to last night, I can now go into motherhood having experienced and fully embraced my bisexuality. I did not feel forced. I didn't feel like I was just performing for my husband. I was 100% in my body and in the moment. I wanted it. I enjoyed it. I want it again. Any self doubts I had about misinterpreting my attractions have evaporated. I can completely claim bisexuality as a part of my identity, just as I can claim poly. I don't have to wait and wonder about this any longer. </div>
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I can't complete this post without expressing my gratitude to the person who gave us this gift. I hope that she will spend more time with us in the future. She is kind and comfortable and sweet. She is beautiful and warm. She gave us a special experience and I will be forever grateful.</div>
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Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-29096387304786055672013-03-15T08:50:00.000-05:002013-03-15T08:50:09.228-05:00My Pancreas is a DickIt's a little late in the pregnancy to be diagnosed, but it's true. I have gestational diabetes. Sigh. Despite the fact that I'm a nurse, I don't know what this means yet. I know that GD lends to larger babies. I know that I will have to find a diet soda that I can live with. I know that I won't be able to sit down with a whole sleeve of Thin Mints like I planned. I know that my pregnancy is no longer a normal pregnancy and that I likely won't be allowed to go past my due date. I know that I will have to eat small and frequent meals and avoid carbs and sugars. I know that I will have to get past my hatred of sugar substitutes. I know that I will have to check my blood sugar multiple times a day and that if I can't control it with diet, I'll be placed on an oral anti-diabetic. I know that checking your blood sugar hurts. I know that I have no idea what I'll eat and that I have a hard enough time feeding myself now with no restrictions on my diet. I know that my husband is good at this kind of stuff and that he'll help me. I know that he'll also drive me crazy by telling me what I can't eat. I know that I've shed a few tears over this, but the big cry is probably coming. I also know that the ICU patient who lost her baby at 32 weeks would switch places with me in a heartbeat so I should suck it up and be thankful I still have a healthy baby growing inside of me.<br />
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And still, I'm mourning. I'm mourning the loss of my healthy body. I'm mourning the loss of ice cream and M&M's. I'm mourning the loss of my freedom to eat whatever I want. I'm mourning the fact that I no longer have chocolate as a legitimate coping mechanism. I'm mourning the loss of the near perfect pregnancy that I had up until now. I'm worried that this makes my chances of an intervention-free natural delivery less likely. This makes me less likely to want to be pregnant again in the future. It makes my thoughts of possibly being a surrogate less than ideal. <br />
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I realize that having GD for one pregnancy, doesn't mean I'll have it for others. Apparently, my mom only had it for one of her four pregnancies. I know that it does make it much more likely that I'll have it with subsequent pregnancies and that I'll develop type II diabetes later in life. Despite the fact that I'm not hugely overweight, I'm fairly active and I have no family history of diabetes, I'm now at risk for being a diabetic forever. If I get pregnant again in the future, I'll be screened for it much earlier and thus have much longer to deal with the consequences. <br />
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I'm resentful that this happens after it took so long to get pregnant in the first place. I'm resentful that I waited until later in life and if I had kids sooner, I may not have had this happen. I feel guilty for feeling resentful instead of just being happy that I have a healthy baby. <br />
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I've never before had to face a health problem that had real and serious consequences that demanded immediate life change. I don't like this. I don't like it one bit. I cried while making a healthy snack last night, serious tears and sobs while spreading peanut butter on a whole wheat English muffin. It was a tasty snack, but I cried anyway. Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-49769742091164263802013-03-09T19:38:00.000-06:002013-03-09T19:38:39.325-06:00A Comparison Between Two Fourth Birthday PartiesI've spent this Saturday afternoon and last Saturday afternoon at fourth birthday parties for two different children. Last week was my boyfriend's daughter. This week was my niece. There were worlds of differences between these parties and only one of them was enjoyable for me. <br />
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Last week, there were many kids at the party. They were loud and boisterous and had a great time. The parents were older, late twenties/thirties, and attentive to their kids. The kids played together and with the adults. Some of the adults drank beer and played rock band. There was good conversation about intelligent topics and a general family-friendly feel. Each set of parents was responsible for their kid, but everyone kept an eye out in general. It was laid back and enjoyable. I wasn't bothered by the experienced mothers talking to me about being pregnant. It turned out to be a great conversation starter and made me feel comfortable in the group. Oh, and there were 3 poly couples at this party and 2 additional poly people that were there "solo", only in the sense that they were not accompanied by a primary partner as the couples were. I'd say that made maybe 1/3-1/2 of the attendees poly.<br />
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Today... ah, well, today was a different story. I am thankful to have the opportunity to vent about this on my anonymous blog as it is directly insulting to my family. Oh, where do I start? First of all, I intentionally show up late as I've learned that it helps to minimize the amount of time I feel awkward and stressed. I can blend into the crowd right away and hide. The weather was nice and everyone was in the back yard as I arrived. I come in through the gate and I am instantly bombarded with small children who want to pet the dog I brought to visit with my niece. Soon, I a have my first awkward encounter. My ex-step-father is standing in the doorway to the house, completely filling it and just standing there. I have to ask him to move so I can put my gift inside. I no longer speak to this man except at occasions like this. I say no more than I must to get by socially. Several years ago, he threatened me vaguely over the phone and I ended all relations with him at that time. I will not reconnect. I don't hold a grudge, but I don't need that in my life. At these events, I walk a fine line of communication that sends a clear signal of what I am willing to give. <br />
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The party gradually filters inside and I take stock of the attendees. The kids are mostly younger than my niece with a much younger set of parents. Many of them want to talk to me about being pregnant. I have little interest in this, but I try to be conscious of my age-bias and attempt to be friendly. One of them says to me, "I just hate how tiny you are!" I reply, "Thank you?" This mother would prove to be a real piece of work by the end of the party and that was my first taste of her personality. Actually, let's go ahead and talk about Miss Thing for a moment. She is approximately 20-21 years old. She has 3 children, the two oldest are 10 months apart and probably about 2 and 3 years old, both boys. The youngest was a baby girl, maybe 6 -8 months old who spend most of the time I saw her in the car seat. The boys were eating candy the entire time. She kept telling them, "No more candy" while doing nothing to stop them. She didn't take away the candy they had. She didn't put the candy out of reach. Her words were empty and without consequence. Eventually, she put the baby in the car seat and propped up a bottle for her, never checking back to see how she did with it. I watched her lose the nipple and quickly maneuver it back into her mouth. Good kid. Near me, one of the toddler boys grabbed a bottle of beer and took a big swig. Across the room, someone notices and hollers out, "Hey, that little boy has a beer!" Miss Thing takes the beer away and says, "You can't have that! A sip is okay, but not a whole drink!"<br />
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WHAT. What? WHAT! what. <br />
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Can someone please explain to me why a 2 year old needs to know what beer tastes like and why you are announcing at a party that you allow your toddlers the occasional alcoholic drink? He was clearly not put off by the taste so I doubt this was the first time. This was when I decided that I really didn't like her. The party was wrapping up now and some people leave. I've noticed that one of the young moms has had her little girl, who is at crawling age, on her lap or within arms reach the entire time and I decide that I can have a nice conversation with her. While this is going on, people start lighting up cigarettes in the house. From now until the time I leave the party, there are at least 2 cigarettes burning in the room with me. No one asks. No one politely goes to the basement to smoke or outside where it's not even cold. Funny thing is, the male smokers did not smoke around me. It was only women and mothers themselves. Really? I send my brother across the room to retrieve my hoodie from the direct line of contamination. This is when I start planning my escape, but I had waited too long.<br />
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Soon, everyone disappears downstairs to partake in a different sort of smoke. Apparently, a child turning 4 is an occasion suitable for illegal drug use. (I am not opposed to the use of certain illegal drugs, but I have issues with being left responsible for other people's children while they use. I also have this crazy idea that maybe it's not a good idea at a child's birthday party.) I am left upstairs with the one responsible young parent, my teenage brother and everyone's kids. No one asked me to watch them. No one asked me if I minded. I'm 33 weeks pregnant and suddenly responsible for a small day care. Car Seat Baby was placed in front of the TV and the candy-coated toddler boys were left to wander. I stopped my niece from giving the baby small choking hazards and from weaving a balloon string through the toys of the baby's car seat. I got to practice my mom voice on the Candy Twins when they attempted to wander upstairs. They listened. I chatted with Responsible Young Mom and did the minimum necessary to keep these children alive. I really wanted to bathe the Candy Twins. Their candy coated skin had attracted circles of dirt on their faces and hands. They were filthy. Eventually, everyone returns to the main floor and I start making moves towards the door.<br />
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At one point, my niece's grandmother visits my side of the room with a lit cigarette hanging from her mouth. She's putting my niece's coat on and asks me to zip it so she doesn't have to "bend over and get smoke in the baby's face". I was too polite to say, "What about my face, bitch? I can't walk up a flight of stairs without stopping halfway and you are polluting my air." and was content to know that I would be leaving very soon. I grabbed my stuff, leashed the dog (who I had been watching more closely than Miss Thing had been watching her children) and started saying my goodbyes. Then I see why my niece was being prepared for going outside. Miss Thing's Baby Daddy has arrived with a toddler sized Spongebob Squarepants bounce house. It inflated quickly. I quickly note that it is not staked down and that there is a fair amount of breeze. I turn to my mother who is drunk and high.<br />
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"You know those things are supposed to be staked down? I've seen some horrible videos on the Internet of them flying through the air with children inside of them."<br />
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"Brazen, You are scaring me!"<br />
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"It's pretty breezy out here. I'm leaving before I have to do CPR on any kids." And with that, I took my leave of the situation and washed my hands of all responsibility for other people's children.<br />
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Two birthday parties. One thrown and attended by practicers of a "radical" lifestyle. One thrown by my sister and attended by her other young mother friends. One was a loving and safe environment for children and enjoyed by adults alike. One was a hot mess that stressed me out for fear of the safety of children and blatant irresponsibility of most of the parents there. There were exactly 3 adults at that party that had any right to be trusted with a child. Only one of them was actually a parent and she needs new friends. Just another reason why I've become a firm believer in building a family of choice. My family of chance is cray cray. Now if you'll excuse me, I feel like I need a flipping nap after all of that! <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-30595966191949901062013-03-04T09:00:00.000-06:002013-03-04T09:00:35.171-06:00Poly: Year One Analysis<br />
These are some things I've learned over the last year. They might not apply to everyone, but they are things that caught us by surprise. Think of this as a list of where we went wrong and what I learned.<br />
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<b>Unrealistic Expectations</b><br />
When we were monogamous, we fell into this trap of believing that our commitment to each other was the only thing holding us back from relationships with others. My husband had his crushes. I had feelings toward male friends that I just knew would be reciprocated if things were different. I had it in my head that me and my choice to be married was the only thing keeping me from exploring other relationships and my sexuality. This was a silly fallacy that was quickly disproven. My husband was shot down by crush after crush. I was gently let down by my friend. We had to remember that there are other factors outside of our relationship that we cannot control and that, as obvious as it should have been, there was not an army of potential lovers just waiting for permission to fuck us or love us. Surely every new open couple goes into this with some level of unrealistic expectations, at least the ones that, like us, have been in a monogamous microcosm with strict guards against the outside world and a stunted emotional maturity when it comes to dating. We had a lot to learn and one of them was the following bullet point.<br />
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<b>Preparation for Outside Influences</b><br />
Opening your relationship means more than sex and acceptance of emotions for others, it means opening yourself up to rejection. Your relationship may be damaged by the unpredictable actions of others. We were unprepared to weather this storm. For my poly experiences, my emotions were not very negatively affected. I have had mostly positive experiences. My husband, however, has experienced a fair amount of rejection and one devastating break up that eventually resolved into a not-dramatic FWB relationship. Again, being in a monogamous microcosm of two, you forget that other people can have a devastating effect on your confidence. Just being emotionally available puts you at risk for rejection and you will get rejected in some form or another. Other people are wildcards and they may turn out to be well adjusted, kind and not-crazy. They may also turn out to be uncontrollable forces of destruction and ping about your life causing damage you never knew you were vulnerable to. Sometimes you can pick these people out right away and avoid a lot of drama. If your partner lets them in, you have to weather the storm and be there for the one you love. You also have to accept that you can't fix everything for your partner when something goes wrong. This is going to sound really depressing, but your love might not be enough any more. Or, as my boyfriend approximately said on this subject, it can be hard to accept that you are no longer the emotional center of your partner's life.<br />
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<b>Coping with the Initial Excitement</b><br />
We are warned about the potential consequences of NRE. We are not necessarily warned about the NPE: New Poly Energy. We both went a little crazy with our new freedom and excitement over a new lifestyle. We told a lot of people. We didn't always tell them the right way. We told a lot of coworkers and we were lucky that this didn't backfire. <br />
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Becoming poly opened up the world for me in a new way, but I moved faster than my skills developed. I felt like a teenager again and, at times, acted like one. I made selfish moves. I got swept up in the excitement of a new venture. I was overconfident in some ways, and especially vulnerable in others. I was emotionally immature and I've learned a lot about myself, other people, relationships (new and old) and dating.<br />
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<b>Outside Sharing</b><br />
This is an issue specific to our relationship. I'm an open book. I'm probably too open at times, as evidenced by this blog. I'm certain that behind my back, I have been described as an over-sharer. My husband keeps his cards close to his chest. Busting open our Monogamous Microcosm (I'm coining that. It's a phrase now. I capitalized it, see?) made us feel vulnerable to outside criticism in a way that we hadn't dealt with before. We both felt a certain amount of pressure to be a part of a fringe community that is critical of newcomers. Yes, you are, Poly Community. There's a lot of criticism of new poly people and how we handle things out there in the blog-o-sphere and the literature. There's a lot of "you're doing it wrong" and we didn't want to be labeled as volatile new people and risky dates. This is still a thing we're working on. In fact, as I typed this paragraph, he walked in the door, noticed I was blogging and commented that he prefers to pretend this blog doesn't exist. <br />
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<b>On the Subject of the Poly Community</b>...<br />
Additional note about the "your doing it wrong" vibe often directed at new poly people: If you are a new poly person reading this, screw that. Do what is right for your relationship. I made some definite mistakes because I felt like I had to strive for this ideal put forth in poly circles. That's crazy. As my favorite nursing instructor used to say, "There are many roads to China." Find one that works for you, don't feel pressured to follow the one that everyone says is right. If something is making your partner uncomfortable, pull back and focus on that until they are comfortable again. If you need a hierarchy to organize your relationships and make them function, then use a hierarchy. If you need rules to feel safe, then use rules, just don't use rules to shut down communication. If your partner tells you they need something and the new-poly-pressure tells you they shouldn't need that... what the hell are you doing? Give your partner what they need. Don't get sucked into this idea that people are poly or they aren't. Do what needs to be done to make it work for you. I was skeptical of new-poly criticisms in the beginning and I still allowed for their influence to sneak into my psyche and I made mistakes that hurt my partner. Don't get caught up in the idealism. Find what works for you. And it's okay to admit that things aren't perfect. Guess what? All relationships have problems. Poly or not. This is okay.<br />
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All this said, the individuals that I've met in my local poly community do not inflict this kind of pressured idealism. This is more of a general feel on the Internet that we both became sensitive to. In fact, the people I've spent time with in the local community have been nothing but warm and welcoming and supportive. However, that's something I think we can all do a little better with.<br />
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<b>Handling Jealousy: Your Mileage May Vary</b><br />
Jealousy and insecurity are big ugly monsters when you are new to this lifestyle. They are usually easily banished from the Monogamous Microcosm by following a few simple rules. When you open your defenses and let them in, you have to cope. We assumed that I would be the one to have a more difficult time with jealousy as I was the one of the two of us that had jealous upsets in the realm of monogamy. My husband never felt jealous, but perhaps this is because he was never challenged to feel jealous. Both of us were completely emotionally unprepared for how destructive this would be for us. Poly literature acknowledges this difficulty, and gives you tools to deal with it, but nothing can really prepare you to be open to a new and terrifying emotion you probably haven't felt for years, if you've ever felt it at all. From my first nuclear meltdown, I realized I could not predict how I would react. Not only was I dealing with jealousy when my husband was sleeping with others, I had so quickly gotten involved in another relationship, I was also dealing with jealousy and insecurity in the new relationship. This was new territory and it took time to navigate. For the most part, my experiences with jealousy have become less intense over time. I still have a weird little hang up about new sexual partners of my partners that I haven't completely unpacked, but as my security has grown and I've experienced this over and over, my negative responses have become easier to cope with.<br />
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Another important lesson that I've mentioned in a previous post is that jealousy cannot be banished with compersion. You can feel compersion and jealousy at the the same time. Compersion does become stronger as jealousy fades, but the two emotions can coexist. You can feel happy for your partner and still hurt and feel insecure. Don't expect to handle jealousy by making yourself feel more compersive. It didn't work for me. <br />
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<b>Know Your Resources</b><br />
Know your resources. Things are likely to get tough at times, as they will be in any relationship. Don't wait for them to get bad. Seek out your resources for emotional help. Know your friends that will be accepting. Know how you can obtain counseling and don't be afraid to use it. We could have saved ourselves a lot of fighting and broken household objects if we had sought out counseling sooner. We happen to have a limited number of free sessions available through our employers. So far, counseling has cost us nothing monetarily. If you have a similar program available to you, be aware of it and don't be afraid to use it. If your family is a source of strength in your life, use them when you need to. As I mentioned in my previous post, my dad's myriad of bad relationships lead to him giving me solid advice to fix mine.<br />
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<b>Be Honest About the Flaws in Your Relationship</b><br />
We started out thinking we were so very awesome. I mean, we had a great marriage. We talked things out, we rarely fought and when we did we worked it out. We enjoy spending time together. When I think back to our wedding, I get nothing but happy feelings. When I look at the pictures of our wedding, I see how much we love each other and how excited we were to show that to the world. We knew we could do this. We could weather any storm. We had easily survived things that makes other couples crumble. We went into it with the right attitude, we wanted the other to have a richer and fuller life and the freedom to explore other people, emotionally and physically. <br />
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Instead of patting ourselves on the back for how awesome we were, we should have sat down and seriously analyzed what wasn't perfect about our marriage. Becoming poly opened up a whole new emotional minefield that blew up some hidden and ugly truths that we were unprepared to deal with. I didn't exactly realize this until we started seeing the marriage counselor. We were happy, but we were not the epitome of perfect marriage and conflict resolution that we thought we were. It turns out that our Monogamous Microcosm was protecting us from a lot of emotional work that we needed to be successfully poly. Going forward, I will be more aware of this and focus on fixing things inside first. <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-21190111072916857482013-03-03T21:46:00.001-06:002013-03-03T21:46:39.321-06:00Poly: Year One SummaryIt has been long about a year since the husband and I opened our marriage. We've come a long way. I suppose I'll start this by summarizing our journey over the last year. <br />
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We started out with talking and reading. We read books and talked about them. We talked about who we wanted to sleep with and how we might handle that. We talked about things we had held back on telling the other for fear of jealousy. For example, my husband admitted to multiple crushes on many women that he's had throughout our relationship. I admitted to having feelings for a close male friend. We became closer in many ways during this time and it gave us confidence in the strength of our relationship going forward. <br />
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The turning point from hypothetical to action for me came after meeting a large group of local poly folk. After realizing that there are people who make this work and that they are not crazy, it became a real possibility for me. We continued to negotiate and eventually put up the profiles on OkCupid.<br />
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Then things started to get really exciting. We kind of lost ourselves in it for a while. We told a lot of people what we were up to, carefully choosing the ones that we knew would be open minded. We lost a friend who couldn't handle the idea. Most of our friends were supportive. We started to meet people and get excited. He was encouraging me to sleep with someone and move things forward. <br />
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Then I met my boyfriend. Of course, he didn't become my boyfriend for a few more months, but we slept together on the second date and the NRE behavior started after the first. We texted in a ridiculous flurry. We flirted and got to know each other. I wasn't out to find a relationship. I wanted to be a slut! Silly me, falling for the first new penis I see in 7 years. There was still some other dating going on, but it became a little too time consuming for me to continue to seek out new partners. Eventually, we put the title on things and I settled into having two relationships.<br />
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Meanwhile, the husband has not had the same happy experience that I have had. He also lost a friend, one of few long term male friends that he had and someone he enjoyed working on creative endeavors with. He went into the dating world wanting to find a girlfriend. He ended up a slut, nearly quadrupling his lifetime sex partners in the first year of being open! This has been fun for him, but not ideal. The emotional impact of casual sex and dating has been costly. I can now admit that I was so caught up in the positive impact on my life that I overlooked a lot of the negative impact on my husband. I made mistakes. Then I got pregnant. Finally! After 2 years of trying to conceive and starting to think it wasn't going to happen, there was a really dark line in the window that usually remained empty despite my staring and wishing. Unfortunately, the pregnancy appeared at time my husband was attempting to renegotiate the terms of our marriage, including being poly and starting a family. Things got rough between us. Things got nasty. We talked about ending our marriage. On several occasions we told the other to leave or threatened to leave. I haven't been completely forthcoming with a lot of this ugliness here as it was extremely difficult and I had no idea how things were going to turn out. I didn't want my marriage to end and the embarrassment of "new poly problems" was an extra stress we didn't need. <br />
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Finally, when things had gotten so bad that I didn't think we could save them, we sought out counseling. I had low expectations for it's effectiveness. I feared my husband wouldn't go. I feared he wouldn't like the counselor. I feared that things were just over and there was no way back from our hurt feelings and pain. I thought we were broken. I thought he was broken. I was wrong. After one session, things improved between us. They were certainly not perfect, but our house was not the war zone it once was. I stopped making plans for a future as a single mom and I started focusing on fixing our marriage. After just 4 sessions with our marriage counselor, we have new tools that we didn't know we needed. We still have a long way to go. We are still learning how to be together under new terms. We still have the impending huge life change of having a baby and all the doubts and fears that come with that, but we are also happy to be around each other. We enjoy each others company again. We are more accepting of the other's flaws and better able to resolve conflict. I love my husband, deeply and truly, and I'm so glad we're fixing things. <br />
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By the way, throughout all of this, my boyfriend has been pretty darn awesome. He has been nothing but supportive. He has given me a shoulder to cry on and evenings of respite when my home was not a comfortable place. He has maintained his commitment to me despite my life becoming a bit of a mess. He gave me a place of comfort and security during a difficult time without it being a threat to my marriage. He's been tolerant of my moments of insecurity in the new relationship. He's a good friend and a good lover. I'm fortunate to have him in my life. Finding someone with a shared sexual chemistry is difficulty enough. Finding that person after a month of OkC dating and having them be not crazy and an awesome person... what are the odds? My experience with poly could have been much different without him. I love him and I feel good about loving him. <br />
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And while I'm being all sappy and appreciative of men that I love in my life, I also need to mention my father. My dad knows about the open relationship. Intellectually, he gets it, but knows that it would never work for him in his current marriage. My dad's relationship history includes 2 divorces, lots of cheating and being cheated on, and lots of general ugliness leading up to his current marriage of 10 years. I went to him when I was desperate and scared and crying at work and I didn't think my marriage was able to be saved or maybe even worth being saved. He told me not to give up yet. He encouraged the route of counseling. He acknowledged that things may not work out, but he gave me the strength I needed to make the saving throw when I was ready to throw in the towel. On several occasions he helped me to see things from my husband's point of view in a way I hadn't been able to see on my own. My dad's experience in failed relationships helped to save mine. His acceptance of our chosen lifestyle allowed him to advise me without assumptions clouding his judgment. <br />
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So, how do I feel about becoming poly after a year? Grateful, more than anything. I'm grateful to have the kind of partner that would even allow the possibility of an open relationship. I'm grateful to have had good experiences with the poly world. I'm grateful that we were able to find the resources for help when we needed it. I'm grateful that we're going forward in our lives. I feel like my life is richer with poly as a part of it. With the impending kid, I'm glad that we will have adult distractions available to us. Despite the stress it added, I don't regret becoming poly. I still feel like it's worth working for and I'll continue to work for it. That said, stay tuned for a follow up post detailing what I've learned after one year. <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-58233616671986377762013-01-15T06:00:00.000-06:002013-01-15T06:00:53.227-06:00Fisting During Pregnancy<div class="tr_bq">
Perineal massage is an often discussed technique believed to reduce the risk of tearing during delivery. It makes sense that stretching your tissues consistently would make them more compliant and therefore ease childbirth. If perineal massage may help, then why not fisting? </div>
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I googled "fisting during pregnancy" to see if I could find out more. I was hoping to find some anecdotal stories, but also some techniques. Most of the results are links to old threads on various pregnancy forums. These threads are ripe with sex negative reactions to fisting. Below are some examples.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">Ouch! I think I'd rather take the chance on tearing, thank you very much! LOL</span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">You mean... fisting as in fist?? so...yeah..i dont think so..wow lol!</span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">ya......no thanks. that doesn't sound appealing AT ALL. for those of you wanting to know what fisting is, well......it is having your SO use there fist all up in you. </span><img alt="Embarassed" border="0" class="tiny_mce_emoticon" src="http://community.babycenter.com/js/tinymce/plugins/smileys/img/smiley-embarassed.gif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; height: auto; line-height: 19px; max-width: 380px !important; white-space: pre-line; width: 20px;" title="Embarassed" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;"> not good.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">Sorry No I do not fell like being Punched in the cervix from both sides or have DH punch Lexie! It would be pointless any way I am having a C! Why would some one tell you that lol??</span></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">Haha, the only time something that big is going to go in OR out of me is when my son is born and comes out. The end.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">Heck NO!!! I wouldn't want to stretch out my v-jayjay anymore than I have to. What if your baby falls out afterwards?!?</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;"><br /></span>I was going to avoid this post... BUT I would just like to suggest that everyone just ignore this crap.<br />
Seems like the tweens are back to rile up pregnant women's hormones. No woman would suggest fisting as a "fun" way to prepare for labor.<br />
Be smart ladies. Ignore or report.<br />
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I'm really not trying to sound like a bitch, but are you being serious??!<br />
If you are being serious (and again, I'm not TRYING to sound like a bitch) I always thought that fisting was just some weird fetish that lesbians messed with... but uh... I guess whatever floats your boat?<br />
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Woman have been birthing babies for a few years now, so I wouldn't be too worried about having to be fisted...</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">How can you possibly get sexual pleasure from fisting! Oh my gosh, that sounds horrible! I am so going to tell husband it is a requirement just to see the look on his face! hahaha.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">she just had a freaky deaky fetish. thats nasty. the only thing that big that is supposed to ever be in the hoohaw is baby. or perhaps an very large penis. fisting is so gross. </span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; white-space: pre-line;">She said the vagina will eventually stretch enough to fit the hand....I don't want my vagina to be big enough to fit an entire fist!! There are surgerys to correct vaginas like that!</span><img alt="Surprised" border="0" class="tiny_mce_emoticon" src="http://community.babycenter.com/js/tinymce/plugins/smileys/img/smiley-surprised.gif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; height: auto; line-height: 19px; max-width: 380px !important; white-space: pre-line; width: 20px;" title="Surprised" /></blockquote>
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Much like many women's immediate response to anal sex, everyone assumes that anyone who is into it is perverted and that it is always painful. It is beyond them to believe that someone would be drawn to fisting because it feels good. The responses range from incredulous disbelief to downright disgust and denial so fierce that they are convinced someone made this up to mess with them to homophobic misunderstandings. For every ten to fifteen of "ewwww" type responses, there was one good anecdotal story on fisting during pregnancy. Some included a description of how you go about it, though most posts after that still had the general response of "not for me!". <br />
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I can certainly understand an aversion to a sexual practice that you believe will be painful. I had the same response to anal sex for many years and only continued to learn about it and try for the sake of my husband. The first time it happened successfully and I found that I enjoyed it was a huge surprise. It just wasn't in my realm of thinking that it could actually feel good. Our sex negative culture had me believing that all women fake pleasure from anal sex and that we all just try to get through it to make our SO's happy. <br />
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I have a harder time understanding why pregnant women are so dismissive to the idea of fisting when they are perfectly okay with a giant baby head, shoulders, arms, torso, etc... creeping out of their vaginas. I also find it sad that they all assume that it HAS to be painful. The idea that it could be pleasurable when performed in a safe and loving environment does not occur to them at all. It's the sex negative culture again, of course. <br />
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Well, fisting is something I intend to work on with my partners (as much as each are willing) as this pregnancy progresses and I hope it will help me to deliver without tearing. (No tears=faster healing with less pain=more sex sooner after delivery!) I had my first full fist experience with this tonight with my husband. Like many things that happen between us in our sex lives, this one happened organically and unexpected. We were playing around with some mutual masturbation foreplay and I said, "See how much you can fit inside me..." Slowly and with lots of lube, he filled my pussy with his sexy hand. I know I've mentioned before that I find hands to be a huge turn on. Hubby has long slender fingers and small knuckles on his big hands. We started laying side by side on the bed and I stroked his cock while he played with my pussy. Since I couldn't see what he was doing, I had no choice but to lay back and focus on the sensation. At 25 weeks pregnant, my belly is too large for me to see much of what is going on down there at this point. The sensation was intense, just a little painful, but in a way that I enjoyed. I knew that I was getting more into my pussy that I every have before and I the feeling of knowing that was a turn on in itself. It's especially empowering knowing that the work of labor and delivery is ahead of me. This feels like something I can do to help prepare. It's quite the feeling of accomplishment to have such a mass inside of me and know that not only did I get it there, but that I enjoyed the process. It makes me feel like an orgasmic birth is actually possible. Again, at this point I had no idea how much of his hand was inside of me, just that it was more than I had every taken in before. Slow movements back and forth and circular motions made me come easily. After a while, he withdrew his hand and I asked him to show me how much he had inserted. <br />
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"Um, my fist was in your pussy." He responded and offered to take a video of it so that I could see. I climbed down from the bed and got my trusty iPhone (so versatile!) and an alternate lubricant. This time, I laid on my back (not completely flat, of course, can't compress that vena cava with my uterus now) with him between my legs. He again inserted his hand inside of me, slowly, this time while filming a 2:15 video so that I could see what it looked like. Having the slight exhibitionist act of performing for myself as well as the knowledge that his whole hand was being inserted inside me made it even more pleasurable. I think the position helped as well as he had more control of where he could move his hand. I came again. He later described how that felt on his end. It felt like a really strong toothless mouth sucking sexily on his whole hand. After just enough time to get the whole process on video, he withdrew and asked me to smile at the camera before turning it off. Then we fucked. The positions we can use are getting more limited by my growing abdomen monster, but the side lying position with him behind me works well still. I can still lay on my back, tilted to one side, as long as he doesn't lay over me and put pressure on my belly. He was a little apprehensive about being able to please me with his cock after having filled my pussy with his whole hand, but he had no reason to fear. Having been so recently so deeply penetrated made me more sensitive to him than usual. It seemed like I could feel the nuances of his penis better than I normally can. <br />
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After the sex, we played back the video. We got about halfway through before an incoming phone call from a friend interrupted the viewing. This lead to us having to quiet our giggles before I could answer the call. Later, when we were able to give the video our full attention, I found myself getting turned on watching myself penetrated like that. It's definitely an activity I want to engage in more frequently, especially as the pregnancy progresses into the third trimester. I intend to attempt to recruit my boyfriend into participating in this as well. Anything to help things stretch and build confidence in what my body can accomplish sounds like good preparation for childbirth. I intend to bring this up as a question in our childbirth classes, but I'll place it under the unassuming header of "perineal massage" to get some opinions on it. As for my doctor, I have an appointment next week and I will ask him about fisting directly. We've already told him about our open relationship and he didn't bat an eye, so much so that my husband doubts he understood us correctly. Having a gay man for an OB doc really builds my confidence about sharing such things. <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-6712591844564657492012-12-03T14:26:00.000-06:002012-12-03T14:26:26.388-06:00Raising a Gender Neutral BoyThis showed up in my Facebook feed this morning <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/26/gender-bias-egalia-preschool_n_884866.html">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/26/gender-bias-egalia-preschool_n_884866.html</a> It's about a preschool in Sweden where the kids are placed in a strict gender neutral environment. It's an interesting concept. Gender roles and how to raise gender neutral kids has been on my mind since I started thinking about having kids and even more so now that I'm pregnant. <br />
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I think I was well prepared on how to deal with gender stereotypes if I was having a girl. After all, I'm a girl and I was raised with a lot of boyish influence. My dad raised me as a single father. He taught me to ride a bike, tolerated me building very dangerous and unstable forts in the backyard, enrolled me in softball year after year, sent me to summer camp and never yelled at me for getting dirty. I also had pink carpeting in my bedroom, got Barbies for my birthday when I asked for Ninja Turtles and X-Men action figures, was encouraged by my mother to dress to "show off my figure" and never had anyone properly explain my aunt who wore her hair in a duck tail and always had a female "friend" with her when she visited during holidays. (I figured that out when my aunt and her friend adopted a child together.) My parents made no deliberate attempt to shelter me from gender stereotypes, but they didn't strictly adhere to them either. It's a foundation that I could easily build on if I was having a daughter. Something I looked forward to, even. (As if buying her all the Ninja Turtles would somehow make up for my bitterness over only receiving April O'Neil. Good thing I had a brother who got the rest of the figures and didn't mind a playmate. What does one do with a single yellow-jump suited April figure? Collect expose stories on Barbie and Ken?)<br />
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But, as fate would have it, I am not having a girl. The genetic screening revealed XY chromosomes and hopefully, when we have our 20 week ultrasound, we'll locate his penis. People love to tell you that boys are easier than girls. I'm not sure I believe that. For some reason, this makes the whole gender neutrality issue much different in my mind. I had no qualms about giving a toddler girl dinosaurs or Legos or Nerf guns, but I don't see myself buying a little boy a baby doll or fake makeup. If only he had a sister that he could guiltlessly borrow those toys from! Perhaps part of my hesitation is that desire to protect your child from the judgement of others. I was teased in grade school for a lot of things, but wearing Ninja Turtle shoes was among them. I can only imagine what a boy with a Barbie would face when walking into a Kindergarten classroom. Then again, conformity is not how you prevent bullying. That's not a lesson I want to teach my kid at all! Dammit, there is so much to think about with this parenting crap. No wonder everyone screws it up at least a little bit. <br />
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Perhaps part of my bias is just because boy toys are cool. Dinosaurs and robots and action figures and trucks and projectiles... I want to play with those! I don't want to play with baby dolls and change fake diapers. I am already projecting my personal toy bias on my child when I eye up the Imaginext toys at Target and look forward to buying armored dinosaurs with human riders. <br />
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And so, I think the best way to approach this is to let my kid make his own decisions. If he wants a play kitchen so he can pretend to cook like his daddy (he does not want to cook like his mommy, that's for sure) then I'll hook him up. If he wants to decorate his room with sports balls, then he can do that too. He can watch My Little Pony or Batman, either is fine. If he wants to wear pink socks and carry a satchel, I'll support that. He will already be given a strong example with parents who don't conform to gender roles. His mom will be the primary wage earner, albeit in a gender stereotypical role, and his dad will be his stay at home caregiver. He'll grow up seeing our poly lifestyle, which is empowering for all genders and orientations. He will be raised around our friends, some of whom are gay many are bisexual. He'll watch football games with his grandpa and play fantasy themed board games with his grandma. He will be surrounded by influence. I think the most important thing will be to foster a sense of independence of gender and of societal roles in general. This would be no different for a boy or a girl. <br />
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Conclusion: I need to get over my gender biases and focus on letting my kid pick what he wants to wear and what he wants to play with. Gender neutrality is not determined by toys. Personality is not determined by gender. I still wanted the rest of the X-men, even if they only bought me Storm. Not having them didn't make me enjoy the show any less. I was genuinely confused as to why they didn't just get me the toys I asked for. Why have a box of Barbies in closet and leave me to sneak off to my brother's room to play with the rest of the X-men? If my boy wants to play with a baby doll that wets itself, then his desire won't change and whatever it is in his personality that lead him to make that choice isn't going anywhere either. That piece of his personality might leave him open to ridicule from other kids, but so might a speech impediment or a liking for books or being bad at sports. Gender really isn't the issue at all. It's about letting my kid be who he wants to be and properly preparing him for a world that may or may not accept him for who he is. It's about arming him with confidence and conflict resolution skills and emotional intelligence, not about keeping him safe from the opinion of others. These are the more important lessons and gender roles will fall in line behind those lessons however they need to.Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-91917408342127478092012-11-20T16:18:00.000-06:002012-11-20T18:28:09.303-06:00Primary and Secondary: What the Hierarchical Terms Mean to MeTitles often weird me out. I don't know why. When my Hubby decided to start going by a shortened version of his name, it took me years to use it properly. I still use the name I knew him by first about fifty percent of the time. When we got married, I had to say "husband" over and over again before it felt right. When Not-My-Boyfriend became my boyfriend, it was weird to use that term as well. That's why I've put a lot of thought into the use of the hierarchical terms of the poly world. <br />
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There is a lot of controversy about this. I can understand why some poly people are opposed to them. They prioritize people and that's sort of wrong, but it's also sort of natural. We do it from the time we are kids, organizing our friends into "friends" and "best friends". We do it on Facebook now with a range of intimacy. I can have "close friends" and "acquaintances" and decide what I want to share with each group. We do it with family. The fact is that we are forced to prioritize due to the limited resource of time. Sometimes friends only become close friends because of close geographical proximity, correlating schedules or situations which place you close to that person on a regular basis, such as working together. Although we may have the same feelings of love for all of our friends and family, we must make choices on who we see more often. This fluctuates depending on life circumstances. I see my friends more often when my husband and I work opposite schedules as I am more likely to stay home with him if we have the time off together. I will make an effort to see a friend more often when they need extra support or I need support from them. Life circumstance brings friends closer together too. I expect my friend circle to shift when my baby arrives as I will spend more time with people who are tolerant of children or have children of their own. <br />
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We tend to prioritize the people we care about based on life circumstance and what our needs are and what their needs are at the time. This is necessary and not morally wrong. Human brains are programmed to see patterns and organize things and people. That's why stereotyping comes so easily. It's innate and it's necessary to have some organization in your life. A large part of my job is deciding what the priority problem is and how to organize my work and time most effectively to get things done. I do this in my life as well to maintain relationships.<br />
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Having been in two relationships for several months now, I feel I've finally come to a conclusion on how I feel about hierarchical terms. Saying that you are in a primary relationship doesn't mean you love or care for your secondary partner any less, but it does mean that you organize your life around one person more than another. This isn't a bad thing. One needs priorities and organization in life to reach goals and maintain order. I don't like drama in my life. As my marriage will expand into a small family soon, I want that family to be my priority. I want my boyfriend's family to be his priority.<br />
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To think that every poly person can and should reach this ideal of total equality across relationships doesn't make sense to me in the structure of our society. The exception is poly groups. If you are in a poly group and everyone is functionally an equal, then the terms primary and secondary do not make sense. However, for people like myself, who started out in long term monogamous relationships, who have or want families, who don't desire to upset the status quo and invite huge upsetting life changes (not always preventable, I know), who live with one partner... it makes more sense to me to apply the labels "primary" and "secondary" and maybe add "casual". <br />
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This is not something I have discussed with my boyfriend, though I'm certain we will after this post, but I feel like this is how we naturally organized our relationship. I never had any desire to upset his life, family or marriage. I consider myself a secondary and I'm comfortable with that. I am respected and loved in his life, but living an hour away from each other and each of us having preexisting life priorities, it just doesn't make any sense to say that our relationship to each other is on equal grounds with that of our marriages. We've each asked the other to change plans around our spouses and always confirm with our spouses before we settle on definite plans. With the exception of my early insecurities, this relationship has been easy to enjoy and I think the acceptance of each others lives and the ease of falling into these roles has contributed to this. There are many other factors at play here, but that deserves a blog post of it's own. <br />
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I have finally drawn my own conclusions on how I feel about hierarchical terms in my poly world. I'm okay with them. Unless I someday end up in a triad or a quad or some sort of poly group that lives together, I can't see myself being able to practically treat all of my partners exactly the same. That doesn't mean I love my boyfriend any less, but that love is certainly different than the love I feel for my husband and the love I feel for my friends. It doesn't mean it's inferior. It doesn't mean it's less important in my heart. It does mean that my husband and my impending family are my priority in my day to day life. This is no different than the way my marriage has always taken precedence over my friends, but I also choose friends that support my marriage, just as I've done with my boyfriend.<br />
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Perhaps in a differently structured society or a commune-type situation, the hierarchical terms wouldn't make sense. Right now, in my life and the society that I live in, they make the most sense and that's okay. Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-48836437010772673622012-11-18T17:00:00.000-06:002012-11-18T17:00:32.285-06:00My Pregnancy Super Power is Squirting. It's ridiculous. Seriously. I've been a squirter since I became sexually active. The first time it happened was with my loser high school boyfriend who said, "I think you peed." Since I didn't really know what happened, my only argument in response was "It doesn't smell like pee."<br />
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Anyway, it tends to happen during sex once in a while. Usually it comes along with a really strong orgasm, but not with every really strong orgasm. Certain positions and clitoral stimulation along with penetration make it more likely to occur. I don't always feel it when it happens and I can't usually predict it. <br />
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Since I've hit the second trimester of this pregnancy, I squirt like a crazy person. I mean, copious amounts of fluid... Soaking through layers... Squirting out against my boyfriend with enough force that small droplets ricochet back in my face. I slept in the middle of the hotel bed last night because the one side was soaked through to the flat sheet. There was also a large wet spot on the floor next to the chair. I could feel it through my socks when I walked across it. Seriously. Those poor hotel housekeepers have no idea how much body fluid I left behind in that room. I should have bagged the sheets in biohazard bags. <br />
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I can also feel it more. I feel it when it happens. I can feel when it's going to happen... sometimes. I'm going to use this to try to get more in tune with my body so I can better feel when it's going to happen and maybe gain some control over it. Right now, there's not much that I can do about it other than knowing the activities that make it more likely. <br />
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I could assume that the increased awareness of the occurrence and the increased occurrences of squirting themselves are a result of the increased blood flow to my genitals. Vaginal lubrication increases with increased blood flow, as more fluid travels out of the blood and through the tissues with the increased capillary pressure of more blood. Since increased blood flow also causes increased sensitivity of the genitals, these two mechanisms could be working together to cause the increased frequency of ejaculation. I come harder from the increased sensitivity and there's more fluid there to squirt. It's also possible that the increased blood flow and pregnancy hormones have caused growth of the glands that are responsible for female ejaculation, but I'm just speculating. I have to do more research.<br />
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There's so little information out there on female ejaculation as it is, the only sources I can find for this during pregnancy are on pregnancy message boards where other women mention it happening to them. I haven't been very good about reading my pregnancy books, but I doubt they mention it in there. I'd love to learn more about this.<br />
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Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-25145702003004133462012-11-14T13:41:00.000-06:002012-11-14T13:41:27.317-06:00The Consequences of Hitting on Cute Young Servers at Your Local Denny'sI hadn't seen <a href="http://brazenbunny.blogspot.com/2012/05/i-get-answer-free-cup-of-coffee.html?zx=10a2901119d9c8be">DK</a> in a while and I had started to believe that he may no longer work at my local Denny's. I had unfriended him on social media and ignored his request when he attempted to refriend me. Seriously, I have zero interest at this point. He's a joke. <br />
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Last night I traveled to Denny's for my usual standing date with Joe. Unfortunately, I arrived before him. I see DK outside the restaurant as I pull in. I walk towards the restaurant and I see him quickly put out his cigarette and go in the other door to get ahead of me and hold the inner door open for me. <br />
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"Hey" I say. "I'm meeting a friend." I'm trying to be cool, but I stumble a bit and have to clumsily catch myself by reaching for the wall. (Stupid shifting center of gravity!) <br />
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"Whoa! Be careful. You're meeting a friend, huh?" DK is already starting in on being a douche. Apparently he hasn't figured out that I have self esteem.<br />
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"Yep. He's not here yet. I'm just gonna take this booth, is that cool?"<br />
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"Sure."<br />
<br />I sit down and immediately text Joe. "Oh gawd. Get here please. That server is here! Help me!" <br />
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DK gets me a coke and then leans against the bench across from me. At this point, I have taken note of Joe's care in the parking lot. <br />
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"So, your friend is coming up here, huh? I don't have anything to do right now. You could just wait around for an hour or I could be your friend."<br />
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"Actually, he's walking in right now." <br />
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"Oh, I see." He replies. I can't hide my amused smile. Is this guy for real? He still thinks that negging me is going to get somewhere or maybe his conceited little butt actually thought that I was just coming up there to see him and I made up the friend. He walks away and Joe slides into the booth across from me just a moment later. <br />
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DK continues to try to flirt once Joe arrives. He quickly figures out that he's not welcome in our conversation. Joe picks up on this too and even made a protective comment under his breath as the guy walked away. "Dude, how do you know that's not my girlfriend?" <br />
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"Well, he is aware of the open relationship, but it would still be bad form to flirt like that if we were on a date."<br />
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I order off their ridiculous "Hobbit" menu and I receive this skillet piled high with pot roast and veggies. DK sets it on the table with the following comment, "I hope you're hungry enough." I ignore this comment, but I take note of his apparent interest in how much I eat. <br />
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Joe and I had our usual conversations. Work, education, mutual friends, sex, his dying cat, my pregnancy... It goes on and on. I continue on my quest to convince him of the realities of female ejaculation. DK eventually arrives to take my plate. Now, maybe he just has no idea what else to say to me, so he again comments on my food. <br />
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"Wow. You must have been really hungry."<br />
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"Is that serious or sarcastic?"<br />
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"It's sarcastic. I'm always surprised when someone actually finishes their food. Like him. He did a good job." I clap for Joe and his clean plate in response.<br />
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"Maybe you shouldn't make so many comments on what a girl eats..." I offer this unsolicited advice to DK. He offers a to-go box and I accept. <br />
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"Joe, you cleaned your plate. It's gonna be a sunny day tomorrow! That's what my grandma used to say." Which is only one of the weird things my crazy grandma used to say.<br />
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"My cat's going to die tomorrow." He deadpans. I love Joe.<br />
<br />Months ago, in the beginning thralls of my new freedom to flirt, I flirted with a young disrespectful playa and I'm still dealing with the awkward consequences. He was butt hurt over it. He shut down. When he cashed out our tickets, he said as little as possible and although I was avoiding eye contact, so was he. I don't feel the least bit guilty about this. I'm a cool chic and he could have at least made out with me if he had treated me with respect. The negging, the standing up... yeah, he's not that cute. I'll still check him out as he walks away, but I have no interest in anything other than looking. I'd like to think this older lady taught him something about how to treat women, but the reality is he'll probably just stay butt hurt and call me a slut if anyone asks. Silly boy. <br />
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The lesson here? If you want your local Denny's to stay your haven for meeting good friends and lovers and study buddies and family members for late night coffee and pie, don't flirt with the servers. You're just setting yourself up for awkwardness in the future. Especially if you are clumsy and trip over your own feet when you are trying to act cool and blow someone off. There are exceptions to this rule, as there are with all rules. Years ago, I flirted with a server at my local Denny's and had a short, but very fun relationship with the guy. The sex was great. I'd do him again if I had the chance, but that was years ago and he was older than me.<br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-35855215334881825722012-11-05T09:29:00.001-06:002012-11-05T09:29:35.133-06:00Come On Ladies, Let's Demand Some Quality with our Sexual EntertainmentThe other day an acquaintance posted a Facebook status gushing about Magic Mike. She acknowledged that the story was bad, but forgave that for the opportunity to see hot men dancing around shirtless. I replied, "If you want hot naked men doing sexy things with no plot, try porn. You can skip all the awkward conversation and shots of cars parking." My reply was deleted almost immediately. Why? Why does it cross the line in polite society to suggest that women simply watch porn to get what they want? You might make the argument that it might be an unprofessional thing to say, but I don't think that's it.<br />
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Every night, I see coworkers and patients reading Fifty Shades of Grey without shame in the open. It's okay to admit that reading about being tied up and taken advantage of turns you on, but it's not okay to <i>watch</i> it. Why? You can gush to your friends and blow up Facebook when a movie about male strippers debuts, but it's not okay to admit you want to watch men in a more graphic state. Why?<br />
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In this day and age when porn is so easily available on the Internet. You don't have to go out and rent it at a store where someone might see you. You don't have to go out and buy it where you might run into someone you know and have to pretend not to see each other. You don't have to pay for premium cable channels and tune in late at night and hope that there's something on that appeals to your interests. You can hop on your computer in the comfort of your own home and pull up whatever vanilla or kinky thing that turns your crank. <br />
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Is it because women aren't allowed to admit that they masturbate? Does it cross the line to admit that you <i>enjoy</i> sex? Fifty Shades of Grey is wrapped neatly in a Twilight-inspired love story, making it okay to enjoy the sexy parts. Magic Mike allows you to appreciate sexy men without having to admit that you want to <i>have sex</i> with them. You just want to watch them dance around. Porn crosses the line as it involves actual nudity and actual sex acts.<br />
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At least if we are going to talk about liking things that turn us on, can we please seek out something of quality? Why do we have to wait for everyone else to like something before we can admit to liking it to? And why when I state that I don't like Twilight or Fifty Shades or Magic Mike am I looked at like I'm a party pooper? I'm not judging you for your sexy interests, that's for sure! I'm judging you for your apparent inability to recognize your entertainment as vapid and poorly written, or your failure to think for yourself about what you are consuming and just agreeing with the rest of your circle that it's good. <br />
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If we are going to agree on something as a culture, ladies, lets agree that it's okay to like what you like. Most importantly, that it's okay to like sex and it's okay to like whatever kind of sex you like. You don't have to like the sex that's popular. And if you don't like sex, that's okay too, but it doesn't make those of us who do any better or worse. Maybe that's what we are working towards and maybe I shouldn't be so critical of these popular things when they may lead to the sort of open society that I'd like to see. I just don't understand why it's okay to like Fifty Shades, but it's not okay to like some kinky porn to help you get off when you're working alone. Now if you'll excuse me, I have something to attend to... <br />
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Side Note:<br />
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I wanted to include in this post a short description of how I enjoyed Magic Mike. I saw it at the drive-in from the bed of my truck. I really didn't see much of the movie as much of the time my back was to the screen so I could straddle my boyfriend and make out with his adorable face. He gave me notice of when I should turn around to see sexy men, which we enjoyed together. I spent way more time making out than I did watching the movie, taking advantage of my exhibitionist streak and working up an appetite for more. That's how I enjoyed Magic Mike and I'll dare to say I had a better experience than most patrons of the movie. The movie, however, had little to do with that. ;) <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-28809956580570486722012-10-09T22:53:00.000-05:002012-10-10T07:42:42.582-05:00My experience with CVS (chorionic villus sampling) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Damn, my sexy blog has been overtaken by unsexy things lately, but since this is the most honest and heartfelt thing in my life right now, that's how it has to be. I promise I'll bring the sexy back when I can. <br />
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This morning I went in for an early appointment first thing after work and had <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chorionic_villus_sampling">chorionic villus sampling</a> performed. Some sort of genetic testing is pretty standard in my family, but I am the first that I know of to choose CVS. Before me, everyone else had amniocentesis. I'm a rebel, choosing CVS. There are probably several reasons for this. CVS has a slightly higher incidence of miscarriage and a small window in which it can be performed. Luckily, I was referred to the genetic counselor early on and all testing options were available for me. I chose CVS mostly because I wanted the results as early as possible for making decisions regarding the pregnancy. If my anomaly exists in it's unbalanced state, it's not compatible with life in any example that I'm aware of. Therefore, I've always known that I would terminate rather than risk giving birth to a stillborn baby or a live child with here before unknown birth defects. With termination on the table, early results are important. All of that said, more than likely everything is fine or I never would have made it this far into the pregnancy.<br />
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This is how my CVS procedure went down. I was greeted by the same super nice ultrasound tech that I had seen exactly a week before. She did a quick ultrasound to make sure everything was still looking good and to see where everything was. At first Sketch was still, but after a little probing with the transducer, it started wiggling. It put a hand out and waved at me! She got a really good pic of just it's little frog legs and pot belly. It's pretty strange looking.<br />
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Oh and in case I had any vague hopes of staring really hard to determine sex organs from this crotch shot... I give you the following graphic from <a href="http://www.baby2see.com/gender/external_genitals.html">this site: </a><br />
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Then she went over the procedure and had me sign the consent form. The consent form had funny statements on it such as "I understand that the results of this procedure do not guarantee the birth of a normal child." but it was also reassuring in that the risks were all stated but you were reminded how rare the complications are. This was good as the possible complications had become a bit built up in my mind. Seeing the actual statistics in front of me was grounding. She brought up blood type, which my doctor forgot to fax over. I confessed to being A negative knowing that this would buy me a Rhogam injection. Since there is a small risk of me coming into contact with the fetus's blood type during the procedure (normally this is separate and protected until delivery) there is a chance that I could develop antibodies that would attack the fetus if it has Rh positive blood. Rhogam keeps my body from developing those antibodies and wanting to destroy what it's creating. (What say you, believers in Intelligent Design?) Knowing that Rhogam was in my very near future was anxiety producing as I vaguely remember them talking about how painful it is when I was in nursing school. Ugh. <br />
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Moving on. I got to strip from the waist down and cover with a sheet while the ultrasound tech talked to the doc. He came in and asked if I had any questions. I can't say he was warm, but he was very professional, which I appreciate. He also didn't show his annoyance when I waited too long to mention my latex allergy. Oops, probably should have mentioned that before you got yer sterile field started. Sorry! So the tech left to scrounge up some non-itch-inducing gloves and that was the biggest hold up. The speculum was big and it was cold (you can't warm up a speculum on a sterile field so I forgive them). He swabbed my cervix and then inserted the catheter and I could see it on the ultrasound. As it crept up through me at times I felt nothing, at other times I felt some pressure. The doc explained everything as it went. He told me when he was going to attempt to obtain the sample. They do this with suction, not a needle. I felt no different during this part, but I could see the bits of placenta going through the catheter on the ultrasound. It was cool. At this point, the doc has to walk away and check the sample under the microscope to see if it's a quality sample. Did I mention that you have to keep a full bladder during the procedure so they can see better? The whole time this was going on I was looking forward to the best pee ever. Talk about awkward. I'm naked from the waist down with a light shining on my lady parts which are stretched open with a cold metal speculum. I have to pee like you couldn't believe and I've got to chill while doc looks at the placenta bits under a microscope and makes sure they are the placenta bits he was looking for. This was also the best part. The tech was watching the fetus to make sure it was okay after the procedure. She rechecked the heart rate and then we just watched it for a while. It was a nice distraction from all the very undignified things that were going on below my belly button. I just watched it floating and wiggling while I waited. <br />
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The doc came back and announced that the sample was good. Hooray! They will try up to three times for a good sample, but luckily they got it with one pass. He reminded me that it takes 10-14 days for results because they are looking at my specific chromosomes and not just counting them to see if they are all there. I wonder just how much they get back on the report. I intend to ask my OB/GYN for a copy of it. <br />
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The Rhogam injection sucked. It's a rather big IM injection. It stings. It's the only time I had to reach for my husbands hand. I stick people with needles all the time. I have tattoos. I used to have my tongue pierced. I still get nervous when the needles are pointed my way. <br />
That was it. She went over where to send my results and confirmed that it was okay to leave a message with the results. <br />
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Compared to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hysterosalpingography">hysterosalpingogram</a> it wasn't much different. The basic premise was the same. Speculum, catheter through the cervix... one was shooting stuff in and one was sucking stuff out. But in practice and feeling, they were not that different. The after care instructions aren't that difficult. Nothing inserted into the vagina for 5 days. (They didn't say no orgasms! I have my ways!) No tub baths or swimming. This is to allow the mucous plug to close up again and to prevent infection in the meantime. No straining or heavy lifting for 48 hours. Call my doctor if I get a fever or flu like symptoms. Some spotting and light bleeding is normal and about 40% of women have some after the procedure. I've had some very light spotting as of tonight. Overall, it was much less scary than I had built it up to in my mind. Still, I'm glad that hubby was able to make arrangements for work and to be there with me. It made a big difference.<br />
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So that's it. CVS wasn't that big of a deal and now that I've done it, it sounds less scary than an amniocentesis. I mean, a needle through my abdomen through the muscular uterus sounds way worse than going through an already existing hole (os, if you are med-term savvy) with a soft catheter and sucking up some tissue that has no nerve endings. Hopefully, I will have no need to compare the two. <br />
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<br />Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-2203980148954519442012-10-08T09:52:00.000-05:002012-10-08T09:52:38.734-05:00How I Turned My Pregnant Outburst Into A Healthy Sexual Activity (And Made My Husband More Likely to Continue to Tolerate Me)So this morning I scheduled my genetic testing appointment. (If you hang on through the following description, I promise you a sexy story!) Tomorrow morning, they are going to stick a needle up through my vag, past my cervix, into my uterus and insert it into my placenta. From there, they will collect a small amount of cells that should determine the genotype of this little human I'm incubating. I chose this method, CVS or chorionic villus sampling over the alternative, amniocentesis, because it can be done sooner. This is important in my case because I know that if the fetus is carrying the unbalanced translocated chromosomes that it's more than likely not compatible with life and therefore I will terminate the pregnancy. When termination is on the table, it is better to do this earlier rather than later. Since it takes two weeks to get results from either method, it puts you much further into the pregnancy before you get the information to base your decision on. The earliest an amnio can be performed is at 16 weeks. That would put me at 18 weeks at the earliest before I could make the decision and follow through to terminate. This would also put me smack dab in the middle of the Christmas season to kill my broken fetus, if it were to come to that. It is also important to me that a decision be made before I start to feel the thing moving. I don't want to feel the fetus wriggling around knowing it was on death row. I'm a strong person and I've always known that termination was a possibility for me, but lets make it as easy as possible, shall we? In addition, the sooner the procedure is performed, the less overall risks there are to my health. <br />
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This is heavy stuff. I'm a bit anxious about this. Because of the timing of the appointment, I'll be going alone. I expect that the procedure itself won't be much different in practice compared to the hysterosalpingogram I had in January, so I'm not too worried about that. I am however, nervous about the 1 in 200 risk of miscarriage and facing that after working 12 hours and getting little sleep. <br />
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When my husband approached me in the way that says, "I expect sex now." I kind of freaked out. My anxiety and tiredness and pregnancy hormones sent me into a tirade which ended with me in the shower after yelling that I would be sure to fuck him. While in the shower I unpacked and aired my anxiety and what it is really related to and came up with a good solution. Since it seems a poor idea to have sex this morning, less than 24 hours from the CVS, I offered to suck his cock instead. <br />
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He was skeptical. I told him to watch porn while I did so. He reluctantly agreed. I knelt in front of him at his computer and he watched a vanilla amateurish porn of man and a big-titted blonde woman. This was not a very long blow job. I found myself relaxing and getting turned on as I did my thing. The subservient and submissive aspect of it turned me on.<br />
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It's a simple thing, but it was new to us and it was fun. It also helped me make up for being a raging irrational misdirecting bitch a few minutes before. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why sex is important for marriages.<br />
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Whatever happens with the pregnancy, I will blog about it here. If termination becomes something we face, this blog is the only outlet I have to discuss it publicly. In my profession, I would be judged harshly and I draw the line at what I will put myself through. However, I will always be open and honest in this forum. Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-52340114343136204132012-10-05T09:23:00.000-05:002012-10-05T10:06:46.945-05:00This blog is becoming decidedly unsexier with another post about being
pregnant.I have to rant about this where I can be free to say whatever I want because I have been stifling my words for long enough. So, quick back story... I'm a nurse. I work in the float pool. This means they send me where they need extra staff throughout the hospital. I work on a variety of floors and I love it. I love moving around. I love getting to know everyone. I love it when everyone calls me when they bring food for special occasions. (Float staff always knows where the food is!) I've been doing this for 10 months and it's fantastic. However, a while back, I asked them not to send me to OB/Postpartum because I was too emotional about not being able to get pregnant. Now, I'm pregnant and I still don't want to go there because I don't want to see the new babies yet. I get too scared about mine and what is going to happen. <br />
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Last night I arrived and found I was scheduled there for the first 4 hours of my shift. Initially, they had sent another nurse, but she freaked out and said she couldn't do it. She went back to the nursing office and said "Send Bunny. She's pregnant. She needs to be over there." And so they did that. Thanks for volunteering me. As if I don't have enough people telling me what I need to be doing right now! I try to make the best of it. I don't spend too long holding any babies or even looking at them. (I don't assess them cause I'm not comfortable assessing a baby.) The other staff is nice, for the most part and I made jokes about being hormonal and not wanting to be around the babies. No one understood why I might possibly feel that way. Still, I kept it together and followed my best friend's advice, delivered via text, "No crying!" I ended up staying there for the full 12 hours. I almost made it. <br />
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I talked a little about being pregnant with one of the nurses there. <br />
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"I'm really early, only 10 weeks." I said.<br />
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"Oh, don't lift anything heavy!" She responded and I ignored it. Later, I was talking about how I was going to have genetic testing done. This dumbfounded them even more. I explained why it was important that I find out if my weird chromosome abnormality was passed on. <br />
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"You know there's risks to that!" This obnoxious nurse told me. <br />
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"I understand that. But I'd rather know if I'm carrying a child with this abnormality so I know what I'm up against. It's not compatible with life." That's close enough to how I responded. How I wanted to respond was like this... <br />
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"REALLY! THERE ARE RISKS! That's funny, because the genetic counselor we talked to completely failed to mention the risks when going over my options for genetic testing. Isn't that weird! I'm so glad you were here to tell me this information! Now that I know there are risks, I won't have it done! I mean, why take the chance, right? And while I'm at it, I'll stop driving to work, because I might get into an accident on the way there and lose the baby. I should also probably stop eating food, because I might choke and die and lose the baby."<br />
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Later on, they were prepping a baby for a circumcision. I stated that I wished to be out of there before it started so I didn't have to hear the baby crying. A day shift nurse turned to me.<br />
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"Well, what are you having?"<br />
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"I don't know yet. I'm only 10 weeks, but if it's a boy, I'm not having that done."<br />
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She got quiet and looked at me for a moment as though she was sad for me. She placed her hand on my arm. "I'm going to tell you... I couldn't marry a man who wasn't circumcised. I guess as mother's we project that onto our children. My sister didn't have it done with her boy and I feel sorry for him. I'm sorry for giving you my opinion like that." I said nothing. I wanted to say that my baby wasn't going to want to marry her. I wanted to say was that I've been with guys who are and who are not and that they are both just fine. That would have been enough to make me look like a huge slut. Imagine if I had told the truth. My boyfriend is intact and my husband is not and I'm fucking them both! Up yours! All of you with your stupid advice and condescending detached way of delivering it! And stop asking me if I'm feeling okay! Do I look like I'm not feeling okay? I'm pregnant. Not broken. <br />
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I was still keeping it together at this point. I had one more nurse to give report to and I would have been outta there before the damn broke. They stole that nurse away to help with the circumcision and I was left to my own devices in the break room. Alone. Annoyed that I couldn't go home on time and annoyed at all the stupid, judgmental bullshit that I've put up with all night. I thought about the babies. Then I lost it. <br />
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<i>What if there's something wrong? What if I lose it? What if I never get to hold my baby like the moms here? I want this so badly! All of it. I want the exhausted but accomplished look of having given birth. I want the challenge of breast feeding. What if I never get it.... </i><br />
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I lost myself to uncontrollable sobs. The last thing I wanted was for someone to notice and ask me what was wrong. I texted my BFF who sent me encouraging words. I splashed some water and my face and dried my tears. I got out there and gave report and then I went right to the nursing office where I broke down again. I told them I can't do it. I can't go to OB right now. I can't do it. All I could think about was losing my baby. The supervisor hugged me and consoled me and reassured me that she knew exactly how I felt and that she would pass it along to the others. She hugged me. I probably got snot in her hair. <br />
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I stopped on the way home and got a glazed donut with chocolate icing. I ate it with a large glass of milk. It was awesome. Now I'm going to have a shower and have sex with my husband, does that count as lifting something heavy? Does it? Ah, fuck it. That's exactly what I intend to do. <br />
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Update: It was a loooong hot shower and some hard and fast sex. Bite me bitches!Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-68931597044054336592012-10-03T00:12:00.002-05:002012-10-03T00:12:49.322-05:00I'll Believe It When I See It. Or Not. Most of the time, I don't really believe that I'm pregnant. We tried for so long and I really started to imagine my life without a family. This would have been okay, really. I can picture it. I had walled off the part of me that wanted it so badly, knowing that it may never happen. Now I have to reconnect with that part of myself and start imagining myself as a mother. <br />
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I had another ultrasound today. This one changed my due date, moving it forward by about a week. When I laid down on the table for the ultrasound, I half expected there to be nothing there. <br />
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"Haha! Got you! You're not really pregnant, it's all in your head." I would climb down off the table and say "Good one, guys, you thought you had be going, but I never really believed it." I wouldn't even cry. To think that there is nothing growing in me right now is more believable than what is really happening. <br />
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It's surreal feeling that there is a living thing inside of me, sucking away my life and changing my whole body around to suit it's needs. As soon as the probe hit my belly, I could see the outline of the fetus. It was immediate. BAM! Baby! It was larger than last time and it clearly has arms and legs. <i>It was moving. This this is moving around inside of me and I can't even feel it. </i>Intellectually, I knew that my baby was already moving and kicking, but to see it in front of me on an ultrasound was something else entirely. <br />
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Not even two weeks ago it was a peanut-shaped blob with a fluttery heartbeat center. Now it is starting to look human. I keep thinking about this ultrasound like what I saw is in the past, but this thing is inside of me all the time. Right now, as I look at the pictures, it is in there, kicking. <br />
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I can't think about this too much or I will cry. I almost started crying going through a box of maternity clothes that a friend loaned me, just because it was so nice of her to do so! I want to call my mother and tell her that I love her. (This is highly uncharacteristic. I am not close to my mother.) I want to listen to Christmas music. I want to talk to my dead Grandma like she can hear me. I want to talk to my baby like it can hear me. I'm losing hold of my firm grasp on reality and logical nature. I do not, however, have an urge to pray so I know I'm not completely losing it. <br />
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How I feel right now is much how I felt when my grandma died. I couldn't feel it at first because it was too big. I have to adjust myself to take it in and it has to get smaller, less risky. It's weird that a grievous event and a supremely happy one are so similar. I never thought I'd have these emotions and now I don't know how to feel them. When I think about the future and actually holding our baby, my mind drifts around and can't settle on it. If I do start to form the picture, I am instantly overwhelmed and unable to allow it to focus. <br />
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This is what is going to happen. We are going to have this baby and we are going to feel the happy emotions I thought I'd never feel. The thing kicking around inside of me is the proof. I just don't fully believe that it's there. <br />
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In other news, Hubby and I settled on a nickname for our unborn wiggly nugget. "Sketch" It's just a Sketch right now, it's not finished. I voted for Space Invader, but he thought that was too long. Peanut is too common. And so, I have a Sketch inside of me. Getting closer and closer to completion. I guess at some point I'll give birth to an oil painting.Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-7797486020983396922012-10-02T19:03:00.000-05:002012-10-02T19:03:00.903-05:00Three WordsSince this blog is no longer totally anonymous, it is the nature of the beast that some things must be blogged about after the fact instead of using it to work out my feelings. <br />
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For quite some time now, three words have been be-bopping around in my head when I've been around NMB. You know the three words I'm talking about. Three words that I apply liberally to friends. I love my best friend. I even love some of my coworkers. For some reason, applying them to a second romantic relationship was much harder. I'm not sure why that is.<br />
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I had been putting it off. I knew that I would have to say it first and I wanted Hubby to be in a place where he wouldn't be hurt by it. I was also comfortable. NMB made me feel an important part of his life without it. The shared calendar, the warmness I received from his wife, communicating about important things, just being happy for me when I told him I was pregnant... these are things that made me feel happy and content the way things were. I knew that sooner or later the words would be said, but I saw no reason to rush them out of my big mouth. The relationship progressed slowly and naturally and it was easy, despite my early insecurities. I felt loved before I was told.<br />
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However, I was starting to feel like it was time. Pregnancy hormones may have contributed. Hubby has also been in a better place. Despite it being just a decent human being thing to do, the ongoing to commitment to me through a pregnancy and new parenthood was really touching. The words were going to come out. They were waiting behind my lips during sex, they would still be there after when cuddling. It was going to happen. <br />
<br />
I talked things over with Hubby and I gave him some time to digest. I didn't say the next time I saw NMB. I waited. However, the other night, I wanted to make it happen. He was here, at our place. We had long finished our typical amorous activities. We were cuddling and talking, post coitus, in the new bed in our apartment.<br />
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I hid my face and hinted at what I was going to say. It was quite obvious where I was heading, but he didn't help me out. When I finally got the words out and looked him in the eye, there was a pause before he responded with<br />
<br />
"I love... pie." <br />
"Really!?"<br />
"I love you too"<br />
"Really!"<br />
"It was on 'How I Met Your Mother'"<br />
"Oh, you owe me for this one"<br />
"A little bit, maybe"<br />
<br />
So, that's how I told my boyfriend that I loved him, how I arduously forced the words out after much anxiety only to have him respond with a quote from "How I Met Your Mother." Awesomesauce. Actually, what is so strikingly weird about this is how similar it is to something my husband would have done. He often makes cheesy jokes and puns when I try to be serious and show affection. Sigh. This is what I attract, I suppose. Well, I would rather have someone(s) who makes light of life, even the serious moments, than someone(s) who had no sense of humor. <br />
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Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-35847201457216615022012-09-27T15:11:00.001-05:002012-09-27T15:11:13.571-05:00An Amusing Interaction: Sometimes I Forget That I'm WeirdI went to a kids and baby consignment sale last weekend with my good friend. The sale was organized by a mommy club of sorts. This local group of moms also organizes play dates and date nights and other things to do with their group. I asked some questions while checking out. <br />
<br />
Now, our situation is that I am the primary earner in our household. I am also so not programed to stay home with a baby. Therefore, we've long discussed that if one of us was to be a stay at home parent, it would be Hubby. Seriously, he is way more suited for the task anyway. This group had "and More" in their group name, so I made the silly assumption that "and More" might include dads.<br />
<br />
"Do you have any Dad's in the group?" I asked three women at the checkout. The first two stumbled and stuttered and looked at me like I have three heads. I went on, "because if any of us stay home with the baby, it will probably be my husband." Finally the one seated responded.<br />
<br />
"He'd probably be the only one. We don't really have any dads in the group." She replied, the only one unfazed by the the apparent socially disrupting question I just asked. She smiled, even. <br />
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"Oh, well, he'd probably really like that!" I said and laughed. The two standing ladies laughed nervously, which sounded really strange against my genuine giggles.<br />
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Moral of the story: People are really uncomfortable if you admit your husband likes being around other women. This has always been the case. Most of Hubby's friends are female and always have been. I have never taken issue with this and I've never had a problem with him spending time with female friends without me. I forgot that this is weird.<br />
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Alternate moral of the story: Mommy groups are likely to be too conventional for me. They are probably also very cliquey, according to reports from other moms. <br />
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Additional moral of the story: Being a stay at home dad still has a stigma attached to it that Hubby will likely have to deal with if that's how we go about things. This is annoying. However, I'm certain that he will also see a benefit when it comes to dating. My dad, as a single father with full custody, got tons of action while I was growing up. <br />
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Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2737397564468845908.post-32963376616180692872012-09-26T17:33:00.000-05:002012-09-26T17:33:56.992-05:00This Message Makes Me Want to Commit Immature and Hurtful ActsI have previously mentioned Gathering, my former friend of 10 years who divorced us when he couldn't wrap his head around poly. Not only could he not wrap his head around it, but he took it as a great moral insult to himself and the institution of marriage. When I casually dated Hulk, a mutual friend, a few times, he decided that he could no longer be our friend. Well, my friend anyway. He's never really stopped talking to Hulk. I guess his behavior is forgivable. I'm a foul temptress who attempted to seduce him. He's the hapless man following his penis. Grrr...<br />
<br />
I recently attempted to reconnect with Gathering. I know he's had some life changes including getting his own place for the first time. I messaged him and offered some kitchen items that I was no longer needing. He replied kindly. I replied and suggested that we be friends again. Holy shit that was apparently the wrong thing to do. I got back a long long message detailing why he can't do that. <br />
<br />
Essentially, he states that he cannot be our friend. He wouldn't go out of his way to avoid us if he saw us somewhere. In fact, he knows that he is likely to run into us at a local gaming con next month. Those encounters will have to be dealt with, but he cannot be our friend. What follows is the meat of the message which reveals that apparently he had issues with our friendship before poly was a twinkle in our eyes. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I cannot at this time find it in myself to go back to how things were.
Everything is still too fresh and hurting. It is not only the issues I
have (which we have went into ad nauseum) it is also a series of awkward
and upsetting times I have seen you or <i>Hubby</i> over this year. They have
made me too upset, too hurt, and reached meltdown point multiple times.
And I cannot deal with a pursuit of another such scenario. I apologize
for the melodrama, but I have spent too many days, nights, and weekends
being so upset over our friendship that it isn't healthy for me to go
forward and give it another shot. All of those things still happened. I
still felt sick to my stomach due to our interactions, I still stressed
myself out to point of breakdown over all of it, and I still got so
upset that I completely lost it. I have had enough big changes in my
life recently that I don't need to do anything hasty nor potentially
self-damaging, and I'm afraid that our friendship (you, me, and <i>Hubby</i>)
has become a damaging affair over this past year or so. </blockquote>
<br />
The fact that our friendship was causing him emotional turmoil long before poly broke it, is enlightening. How the hell could I have fixed that? There were numerous occasions where Gathering was obviously faking an illness and excused himself from our social affairs, but I had no idea that his anxiety was directed towards Hubby and I specifically and I have no idea why. Still don't and I probably never will. How can I, if he won't tell me?<br />
<br />
He goes on to tell me that he knows it's hypocritical for him to continue to talk to Hulk.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I should also state now for sheer sake of information and sharing that I
have talked to Hulk some recently over text, dealing almost exclusively
in Magic the Gathering along with a little chit chat. Now while it
could very understandably be seen as hypocritical of me that I am giving
that friendship another try, and I don’t blame you if you do as there
is some hypocrisy, it also stands that there has only been one awkward
and weird situation with him, while there were many others with the two
of you. It also helps that when I will see him this Friday night, it
will be at a tournament. If things end up awkward there are another 20 –
40 people to talk to, XXXX will also be there, which always helps, and
we can always default talk about Magic instead of anything serious. I
just wanted to disclose that now. I really don’t wish to argue, I don’t
wish to add emotional turmoil in your life, especially now that you are
pregnant. I just had to let it be said, there is a double standard
there, and even still it may fail amazingly so. </blockquote>
<br />
Wow. These are some serious social anxiety issues we are talking about. Yes. This is hypocrisy for sure. I also don't think it's fair to count up the awkward and weird situations with me and Hubby when we were not aware of them. How many were there? How many of Gathering's stomachaches were real and how many were because we made him feel weird and awkward? Who knows? Only him, I suppose. Which makes this friendship and it's loss totally out of my control.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I had also hoped many times that interactions with you and <i>Hubby</i> would
get better each time and they failed, even after very good, healthy and
fun conversations through text or Facebook. So it will be the litmus
test on Friday. Anyways I have rambled on WAY to much about this aside…</blockquote>
<br />
Whoa. Hard to change my behavior to save a friendship when I didn't even know that I was doing something hurtful. This is both the most hurtful part of the message, but also the most vindicating. He was expecting things to get better by not talking about them and was disappointed when nothing changed when he never aired his feelings. This friendship was doomed. There was nothing I could do. Choosing to become poly had little to do with it ending. <br />
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What he doesn't know about this upcoming con, is that it's not only likely that Hubby and I will be there, but also that my boyfriend and his family will be there. Right now, in my hurt and hormonal little brain, the thought of making out with NMB where Gathering can see is a very satisfying, but a very immature and inappropriate response. I'm sure I'll be over it by then. That said, this con is somewhere that we can potentially be more public with our affections and I don't intend to hold back to spare the feelings of someone who no longer wishes to have me in his life. It's not like he'll say anything, anyway. (Ouch)<br />
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That said, last year at this gaming con, Gathering was totally in his element. We borrowed games, learned them quickly and played. He was our master of ceremonies, our leader of the gaming table. We had much fun that afternoon. I miss his company, truly, but he no longer sees me as an acceptable friend and I don't even know for sure why. Therefore, I must move on. Brazen Bunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10454857828030990632noreply@blogger.com0