I’m having a party by myself.  It’s my first time off from the kids since my long shift up at the café.  I opened a bottle of champagne and I’m watching movies.  First 10 Things I Hate About You and now The City of Lost Children.  This is a fairly visual one, so my rate of typos may go up.  I’m sorry for that.  I know I will be too lazy to really edit.

Today has been an interesting day.  Emotionally.  I think it is influenced massively by the fact that I started my cycle today.  I’m still getting used to that.  The post-children body experience is quite different for me in ways I have trouble getting my head around.  The first time I bled after Calli I cried in the shower and played with the clots.  I said goodbye to the children I will never have.  I haven’t done that since but each time I bleed I feel increasingly like I am shutting the door on my biological desire to breed.  I don’t actually want more children.  My body does.  But I don’t.  I have to deal with my whole emotional experience there.  My body clearly wants more children.  It yearns for more.  If Noah’s vasectomy failed I would rejoice in the gift of another child.

That’s actually one of the things that I am really thrilled about with the cessation of nonmonogamy.  I don’t have to go pursue a back-up form of birth control.  I’m really ok with the idea that Noah and I are done but for the intervention of G-d and I haven’t actually decided against further children.  My body wants more.  I don’t mind at all that we won’t have more kids.  I wouldn’t want to clean up after them.

This is the weirdest forking movie on the planet.  But Noah likes it a lot.  I’m trying to understand more of what he likes about it.  It is incredibly creepy.  Everyone is a caricature of a person.  Often literally.  Weird mutants and clones abound.  Sadness and despair is the stuff of life, isn’t it?

I can’t write about this movie.  I can’t see me in it.  I suppose that is vain.  My horrors are different.  Not better, but different.