Q: What are the chances?


This was a question posed to me by my now ex-husband’s girlfriend, when from my failing marriage, I moved unbeknownst to me across the street from her and her own failing marriage. I now use the phrase regularly, which leads me to believe, that the chances are indeed pretty high that whatever coincidences you think are one in billions, are really much less rare. How could it be that Louis’s mother and I would choose to dress our two children in the same shirt, one that neither had worn before, on the same day… What are the chances, I ask.

Q: Qi, what’s it to you?

A three hour scrabble game in which for the first time in all our years, Cole won, ensued last night. 30 points on his first turn out with ‘maze’ I followed with ‘moment’ … And there somewhere, Cole pulled one of my moves out of the basket and played ‘qi’ for another 30 points. Another turn around another shadowy corner of this time and life.

Q: Monkeys, where did you go?





Here we are, nearly recovered from a week of sleeping on the ground and peeing outside. I am awful glad to see my bed, although it does not do much to alleviate my current dilemma. I’m ready to explode with sexual tension, my clitoris once again unreachable in any position due to my ever growing belly, and although there are ways to get around that issue, it’s never been one of his strong suites, or I’m too impatient, I’m not sure which it actually is. I guess I’ll have to do it myself, gotta’ have one to get it right I suppose… Just don’t know if I want to go though these last two months without orgasm during sex, and then cold turkey for six weeks after the birth! There has to be some kind of fairness here. Is there a way to have sex and get HIM not to climax? That would do the trick, I’d feel vindicated for a Moment at least… Maybe that’s a little evil, but then again, when has any man I’ve know actually waited for me to have an orgasm every single time we’ve been so inclined… Oh, but how many women out there have w a i t e d for their little boys to get off. Like I said, just a little tension. This was the point in pregnancy with boy #2 that I considered investing in some very expensive high tech toys.
On a less personal note and tying right in with boy #2, boy #2 spent our whole week in the trees looking for monkeys, he would call to them, “Monkeys, where did you go?” it was darling. Boy #1 was wholly obsessed with fire and took every opportunity to set to fire anything he could possibly fit into the fire pit.