note to self

In next month's Self, there's a little article "Celebrate Your Happy Weight." The article ends with a list of "10 ways to know you're at your happy weight."

Number 1? "You hear yourself say to your sweetie, 'Come to bed, hon...and why don't we leave all the lights on this time?'"

Ha! In La Casa B, it's more like, 'You look like you might want to kiss me, turn the lights off.'

My family members once teased me because I said I never wanted anyone to see me naked.* They asked me how I was ever going to have kids (I kind of always knew I wanted kids) if I never let a guy see me naked. My response? I don't have to be naked to have sex.

----------------------

* Speaking of having kids and nudity, there is no real modesty during the childbirthing process or shortly thereafter. There were only two other people -- aside from Cardo, me and then Pic -- in the delivery room, a nurse and my doctor. Over the next couple of days, though, several nurses and some nursing students came in to check out what was going on with the swelling in my nice hospital-provided mesh panties. 'Hey sure, come on in and have a look in my underwear. Anyone else out there not get a good look? Send her or him in, too.'

Also, while I still don't let Cardo see me in the light while we're having sex (which makes daylight-hours sex interesting), we've got a relatively naked household. Seriously, if it's warm and I'm inside, pants just aren't a priority. Cardo laughs because both Pic and I will walk in the door and start casting off clothing. Now, folks, my daily quota of TMI has been fulfilled and you're welcome.