Oh friends...let's hope that my birth control pill works this time around (unlike last time when I found out last mid October that #2 was on his way) because after several months of husband imposed sex ban (neither of us really like pregnant sex...*gasp!) we haven't taken our hands off each other. In fact, we were talking about how you wish you could tell your body, "Hey, this is strictly recreational sex,not procreational" but I guess it just doesn't work that way, now does it??

And then, just when I thought I knew John, a sex swing shows up at the door! The things you do in the name of monogamy. Last night I was all strapped up with my legs swinging around as I dangled mid-air in our bedroom, my ass hanging over the swing. It would've looked pretty hot pre-two babies...this time around as I was suspended in front of our mirrored closets, it was well...a tad bit laughable. And laugh we did for about 10 minutes as we tested the thing out...and then we had sex. The end.

PS. There's a giant eye hook hanging from a support beam in our bedroom. Who wants to bet that John's mom goes looking for the item that hangs on said eye hook? I can't wait for that day.

Last night when John came home from work we were snuggling on the couch and then you know, a back rub turns into a lower back rub and then your pants come off...like always. Boys, they are so slick with their seduction tactics...and wouldn't you know it, it still works on me! Anyways, so there we are in the beginnings of pregnancy sex which if you didn't know is like 99% awkward, trying to find ways in which my belly doesn't hurt or doesn't get in the way--and I don't even want to get into the fact that the baby decides to pound my kidneys at the same time John's pounding er...well... anyways...on with the story. I have the utmost faith that we'll get the handle on it, but since this belly seemed to just magically appear overnight, I've been having issues with balance and every day maneuvering...again, on with the story...

So there we are, John doing his best at trying to make me feel comfortable and not at all like I have a volleyball where my flat stomach once was when all of a sudden he says to me, "Do we need to stop?" I give him the crazy eye, and think to myself, "Are you crazy? There is no stopping at this point!" I think I even dug my heel in his back to emphasize this. In case he didn't catch that clue I said, "No, why?" and then I followed his gaze towards the Band-Aid on my calf (that was resting daintily on his shoulder). It appeared that black ooze was coming out from under it. I panicked for just a second and then realized that it was just a combo of Neosporin and fuzzies from the black pj pants that I had been wearing minutes earlier. I explain this in as few words as possible, "No amputation necessary! As you were soldier! I'll explain later!" And then we were back into the game of pregnancy sex twister...but I thought it was pretty nice of him to offer to stop. I don't think he would've when we were dating, he would've just told me afterwards, "PS, your leg is gangrenous, you might want to get that checked out." It just shows he cares...about whether or not my leg is going to fall off.

.

It's a good thing to find a mate who deeply knows your passions...John definitely knows mine. For example, last year for our anniversary, he knew I loved to drink and he accomodated that very nicely. In fact, I'm not sure why we even went to Chicago because all we did was go from bar to bar! ha ha...

This year with drinking out of the question, he knew my other two favorite passions--fancy hotels and food. So while we're really not going too far for our mini-vacay/anniversary, we're going to have a fabulous time hanging out in some of our old haunts and stomping grounds. John hasn't been getting a lot of sex lately (that point of pregnancy hasn't really kicked in yet sadly) but he knows that I adore hotel sex more than anything. So it's no wonder that we'll be staying here. He also knows that my two favorite things to eat in the world are steak (filet wrapped in bacon to be more specific) and mashed potatoes so it's very clear that he picked the best restaurant to fit my needs. Clearly, I will not let my belly shyness get in the way of fulfilling his needs (which is why I thought this post required the "John the sex stallion" label...call it a premonition.

I wore John's penis out this week. That sentence would've made me proud, however, I feel badly for both the big guy and the little guy when I saw the reddening mark forming on the little guy. Poor boy, he's my favorite person in this house. We're still a little unsure how it happened, it looks like a little cut and a brush burn...I um, don't know how to say it without being crude, but um, I've never had any issue that would require any bottled lubricant...so, how'd the little guy get scuffed up? Call Unsolved Mysteries, because it completely beats me.

In other news...

I'm skipping night class tonight...it makes me feel so happy. I'm not exactly sure why since I'm not working on my paper or working on my presentation which are both due next Wednesday! Instead, I'm plopped down on the couch avoiding reading Beowulf for the millionth time. I wish that was an exaggeration but I'm not sure that it is. It's lightly snowing outside, I'm hoping for a two hour delay because I'm feeling so frazzled this week with everything that's going on, I have a feeling that by Friday, I'm going to be very cranky and that I may have to sleep all weekend just to recouperate. Oh wait, I can't! I have to write my stupid paper!

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...or are you just excited to see me?

Gents, if you want a blowjob grab a bowl full of leftover Thanksgiving mashed potatoes and smear them on your penis...because if your wife, girlfriend or woman you picked up last night likes mashed potatoes as much as I do you will surely be greeted nicely, if not a tiny bit greedily.

Happy Leftover Day,

Love John and Melina

The other day I was feeling frisky and so while John was setting up his Fantasy Football line up (much lamer than D and D I think--kidding John) I said, "When you're done with that, take your pants off."

He looked at me and said, "Really? I'm not feeling all that sexy right now..."

So you can imagine my surprise when later he did take his clothes off that he wasn't wearing his best silk panties or a cute little bustier--because that's what I'd do if I needed to feel sexy.

I may have to buy him a feather boa or a silk smoking jacket.

All's well here...perhaps I'm understating-- it's simply perfect. But perfect rarely breeds inspired posts. I could tell you about how John and I have become afficienados of both Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble (that Genus edition is harder than I remember! I think my parents cheated and gave me fake questions growing up!). I could tell you that I needed my mom's help in paying my $1,000 bill to get my car cleared for inspection---it is seriously amazing how much better the car runs---it no longer sounds like Fred Flintstone is using his feet to carry my little econo-car along!

Instead, I'll tell you how our past weekend could've been exciting, in list form:

1. It could've been exciting if I hadn't played drunken Scrabble on Friday night.
2. I consumed 5 Molson XXX and a few other lite beers and all of the sudden I was just a blathering idiot.
3. 6,000 is the number of times that John begged me that night to take a breath and stop babbling.
4. 6,0001 is the number of times I ignored his request.
5. That night, the drunken sex was spectacular...I blame my drunkeness for my reference to John as a "stallion"...stallion??? You can do better than that, right???
6. I awoke the next morning to lay on the couch and drink another beer to try to stave off the hangover...instead, I passed out.
7. I awoke again, to puke.
8. and puke
9. and eat KFC
10. and puke
11. and eat Wendy's
12. and puke
13. John, my faithful nursemaid (and sex stallion), tried to revive me. First, with more sex...nice, but that didn't help. Second, with trying to get me to T's Halloween party. A party we were supposed to be at around 8 pm...instead, he was trying to rally me to go at 3 am and laugh at our drunken friends.
14. I waved him away, puked and set him along without me...I nestled down with a lovely marathon of To Catch a Predator (I think it's probably wrong of me to love that show...but I do, I love it)
15. John returned with lots of pictures and videos of all kinds of mayhem--girls making out, John's friend potentially getting a threesome (which may have been arranged by my very own sex stallion, since he plied them with numerous shots in the two hours that he was there--that's how he got his other name--The Shot Monster!)
16. I fell back asleep and laid on the couch the whole next day watching football next to the Stallion.
17. Moral of the story...drunken Scrabble can destroy a weekend I suppose.

Oh and I'm attempting to do this: