After 10 years together, my husband and I are pregnant. Or I’m pregnant. It sounds too cutesy to say we, but it’s not happening to me alone. At the same time, I notice it’s only my alcohol intake that has dropped off dramatically.
Whatever the terminology, we got pregnant easily. Almost on a whim, we embarked on the birth control-free road thinking nature would give us a while to get used to the idea.
It didn’t. Keep reading »
“You would be in better shape if you had a German wife,” I tell my husband.
I’m sure this is true. Not only do the Germans have a fondness for fitness, but they generally don’t take a lot of shit. As an American, I am more susceptible to his feeble pleas that pizza has been classified as a vegetable, and both our waistlines suffer for it.
“You would be the funniest person in the relationship if you had a German wife,” I tease him. Keep reading »