reflection on pregnancy

this is my third, and probably last, time i will experience this...what i consider to be kind of magical/miraculous thing called pregnancy.

while i had a lot of time and energy to reflect on pregnancy the first time around, and less the second, this pregnancy has gone almost completely unacknowledged. over the course of these nine months i have finished my masters, been raising two children, working full/over time at school, choreographing my third musical, "west side story" (which i had no idea would be so challenging musically - choose any song from the show and try to count out the beats...) and been generally distressed about the state of the world and in particular our country. i have been busy...not only mentally, but physically and emotionally.

in the chaos of everything i suddenly realized that this experience of pregnancy would soon be over. and while the next stage - bringing a new person into the world - is also amazing/scary/potentially overwhelming, i wanted to stop and reflect on this part before its over.

things i won't miss about pregnancy

• leg cramps
• foot cramps
• varicose veins
• having to approach rolling from one side to the other in bed like a three-pt-turn: in stages
• not being able to take-off or put-on my shoes easily
• getting winded sooooo easily
• braxton hicks contractions for months
• not being able to have a looooong satisfying pee (all short, pathetic amounts) 
• the first three months of vomiting and feeling sick all. the. time.
• depression and guilt for depression
• anticipating labor/the unknown

things i will miss about pregnancy

• feeling a living being inside my body
• the attention/extra care from others/strangers
• being amazed at my body for how it is able to grow a human inside of it
• not feeling weird about having someone put their hand on my belly to feel the baby - feeling like it's not mine, but just something i get to share with the world
• having my four and one-year-old kiss my belly and talk to the baby
• prenatal visits to the birth center (an organization I love along with everything it stands for)
• extra foot rubs from erk
• anticipating labor/the unknown

i am probably less than two weeks away from delivering this baby and while there is still a lot to do before it arrives (would ideally like to get through the musical next week, report-writing, lesson planing etc) ultimately what i want to do more of during this time, is nothing but enjoy it. i want to take in this moment before the moment. i want to spend as much time appreciating my family before we transform from a 4-some to a 5-some. i want to be kinder to myself and stop to breathe and appreciate that within the chaos and sometimes devastation that is the world around us, life is a gift and creating it is a miracle.

birth story

i didn't really have time to think about the fact that i was having another baby.
i was busy raising the first one, working, going to school (i had a paper due 3 days after you were born that i had not yet completed when i went into labor)
on tuesday may 3rd i came home with m and my braxton hicks contractions felt different, but only slightly
when erk came home around 5 i said, "i think this baby is coming tonight"
i called bubby to let her know that we would probably need her to come over later and take care of your big sister when your dad and i went to the birth center, but i would confirm with her later.
we were making pizza that night. when i had a stronger contraction i would kneel on the floor of the kitchen in child's pose and your big sister would rub my back.
6:30/7 rolled around and i was more sure it was happening - had already contacted the midwife on call  to let her know we would probably be in later that night. i called your bubby to say that we wanted her to come over right away. we weren't sure exactly when we would have to leave, but were more sure it was happening that very night.
when she arrived the contractions were still not that long or close together, but they were progressing. after less than an hour i told your dad i wanted to go to the birth center
"really? are you sure? doesn't seem like your contractions are that frequent yet" was his response.
i was sure.
i asked him to grab your carseat from the basement and instead of just throwing it into the car, he installed it. i remember thinking that those extra 7 minutes (or however long it was) were an eternity and there was a sudden increase in intensity of my contractions.
we got in the car and drove.
we arrived to the birth center at 9pm and the midwife and nurse on call checked to see how i was progressing. they told us i was 4 or 5 centimeters dilated. i knew that this was not actually very helpful in determining how long it would take for you to be born based on my experience giving birth to your sister.
i couldn't find a more comfortable position to labor in during the contractions. i kept trying different things to see if it would hurt less; i leaned over a birthing ball,  over the bed - but i ended up just going back to some form of child's pose. i had your dad put pressure on my lower back during each contraction. i started yelling to press harder. the harder he pushed the more relief it provided me - which wasn't much - but was something.
i was lucid between contractions. not like i was with your sister.
i remember thinking and then saying aloud "it's going to get so much worse before it gets better" the thought sort of scared me because the contractions were already so intense. but they never lasted very long.
it was maybe 9:45 when the nurse informed me that i was already ten centimeters dilated and i could push when i felt ready. every contraction i had was stronger but i wasn't sure i wanted to push yet. i couldn't explain why, but i didn't push. between contractions i remember commenting on what a shame it was that it was happening so fast - i was looking forward to getting to know the nurse and midwife better.
they laughed.
another contraction came and my water broke.
i couldn't find a position that was comfortable, didn't know how i would get you out of my body.
the nurse suggested i try the birthing stool.
i sat on it for two very intense contractions. during each one i was told i could push if i wanted and i kept saying "i don't know, i don't know, i don't know"
the second contraction ended and i leaned toward my right, shifting the weight off of my left foot.
the nurse asked why i was sitting that way. i responded somewhat indignantly "it feels more comfortable" - was this or was this not MY birthing experience?
the nurse said rather firmly, "sit straight with both feet planted on the floor"
i did
and without any time to think about it, your little body started to make it's way down the birthing canal and i had no choice but to help push you out
within 3 or 4 seconds the midwife caught you with one hand - she didn't even have time to put on rubber gloves.
you came into the world at 9:55pm
i am told you came out peeing. i don't remember seeing that, but i saw you were a boy
my first thought was "what the hell am i going to do with all the girl clothes i have?" your aunt had a baby the week before - also a boy
you were crying/screaming and you didn't stop for three hours; your arrival was very sudden for you as well.
we spent that night in the birth center; your dad and i in the bed with you beside us in a little bassinet. we hadn't brought a pacifier with us so i slept (and didn't sleep) with my pinky in your mouth while you tried to rest from the day's events.
the next morning we went home and you met your sister and bubby before they went off to school.
it took you a long time to adjust to the world - any time you weren't sleeping you were crying for the first several weeks (very unlike your sister at that age)
but i loved you immediately and fiercely

counting down

as i got off the phone this evening with my sister i said, "speak to you in another 12 hours" while it wasn't an agreed upon practice, we have been calling each other a lot this past week.

we are both getting so close to our respective due dates - hers only four days away and mine eleven - that it has made the anticipation of each baby that much more exciting but also that much more surreal.

i haven't had time to stop and think about the reality of adding another person to our family just days from now...between school and work, and our new dog.


oh did i mention that?

even though i have not consciously given this baby enough time, my body keeps trying to remind me with pangs of pain down my right side; the baby itself keeps reminding me with aggressive kicks and turns, "i'm coming! get ready!"

i am starting to hear you more now.
and whether i am ready or not (and chances are we won't be)
we'll make it work :)

happy 40th v

i have said this before
but you don't know what it's like to have a big sister
to have someone to look up to, model after, imitate
sometimes it was difficult to feel completely independent... growing up i wasn't sure if my thoughts were my own, or just some version of yours
i am excited for m to become a big sister, but more excited still for this little life that gets to have her as a big sister
people with big sisters are lucky
i am lucky not only to have you - but to be on this pregnancy trip with you. it's unbelievable!
looking forward to many more baby bump pictures, many more cousin bonding sleepovers, many more birth days and birthing days; more family and love love love
i love you, v

the morning after thanksgiving

i was still in bed and heard the following conversation between little m.k. (2 yrs old) and big m.k. (6 yrs old)

little m.k.: "can i have a turn?"
big m.k.: "no you have to wait"
little m.k. "ok"...."can i have a turn now?"
big m.k: "ok, fine"
a moment later some tears and talk of a sore finger
little m.k.: "are you okay michaela? do you want a hug?"
big m.k. : "yes, ok"
quiet hugging...
big m.k. "you are the best little girl"

menchu

yesterday was a long day
it was the end of a long stretch of days
that have been busy and exhausting...the most busy and exhausting of my life thus far
i've had a lot of work
a lot of late nights
yesterday was my last late night of a workshop
last time leaving m in daycare till the very last minute
my last big paper for the semester handed in
last late night staying up to finish writing in a fit of anxiety (for now)
yesterday was busy

yesterday was also when i found out a colleague of mine, with my same name, lost her fight against cancer. a fight she had been in for 4 years.

she was the type of woman who left an impression on you. one of the kindest, most optimistic and enthusiastic people you have ever met.

yesterday i wanted to do something for her
i thought about adopting a dog - she loved animals
i decided to make my classes more fun. i changed the itinerary for the day to include more games, more exposure to culture and music. she was a master of inspiring a love and interest in language learning in her students. yesterday i wanted to be a better teacher for her.

i hope to hold onto that feeling in her memory. no matter how tired or sick i may think i feel - she is a reminder that there is always more to give.

happy international women's day

                                            

now, any time a song comes on she starts to bounce to the beat.
now, any time a song ends she asks for "más" while doing the sign language gesture for "more"

its as if she learned to love dance while still in utero; learned to move with the music when i danced around a room and her infant body, in fetal position, thus danced inside of me

now sometimes she calls me over to the dance floor.
bending down to the ground she touches it with her index finger as if to say "dance right here"

other times she is oblivious to her surroundings; makes no request for any dancing partners.
she just gets lost in the rhythm and in her body's own movement.

i love witnessing those moments even more than i love dancing with her

it's funny to have a daughter that looks so unlike me.... her light eyes, light hair, pale skin....her colors are all from her father; making me look like a beloved babysitter.

there are few things that one can point to and say "she gets that from her mom".

i like to think her love of dance is one of them though

for now i am so proud of this little person, and am in awe of the idea that she will one day be a woman.

in recognition of international women's day i honor all women, the women in those women's lives and the women who are yet to be.

mothers and daughters

she laughs frequently, loves to engage people, but when she is quiet, her face looks like it's in a scowl.

that furrowed little brow is one of concern (of anxiety?)
something bigger than she can articulate.
......she can only articulate about ten words

what do her thoughts look like....
without words?
what is that weight that she carries?

if i knew i would probably be able to fall asleep at night without running my fingers along my own brow - a physical cue to release the tension there.

maybe its coincidence,
perhaps its uniquely female,
or it could just be that without warning or choice, that is what she has inherited from me

birth story

toward the end of my pregnancy i became very interested in reading about labor. in particular i enjoyed reading different women's birthing stories.  learning about other people's experiences helped get me ready for my own.

so, i thought i would write little m's birth story both to join that chorus of hippy dippy moms that share these personal moments in an effort to create a community of supportive people, and also to simply capture the experience before time and the malfunctions of memory obscure or alter it.

i think the experience of labor could be compared to running a marathon in many ways. so much of the process is mental despite being so seemingly physical. i remember at about an hour into my birth center experience hearing a mother at the end of her labor pushing her baby out. i could hear her grunts and screams and then finally, a little baby's voice crying;  it was an inspirational soundtrack. that little part of you that thinks "oh, if she can do it, then i can do it"

mile markers are also mental; reminding you how far you have come and therefore urging you on....at one point i asked the midwife, "when is that part that everyone says is so hard...'transition'?" and she responded "oh, you're in it right now". knowing that immediately gave me a mental boost to keep going.

another parallel for me, was how each task seemed conceptually impossible before actually doing it. "my uterus will do what?" "how many miles exactly is a marathon?" but somehow you end up doing what seemed so impossible...and then the only way you conceive of doing it again is by forgetting just enough of your experience, and knowing that because you did it before, you can probably survive doing it again.

but to be honest, there isn't really anything that compares.

little m's birth story:

my due date was july 3rd and i had an appointment that day for a check up. in the weeks prior i had not had any interest in knowing how dilated i was. i had read that ones dilation before labor began was not truly indicative of anything (women could be 3 cm dilated for weeks before going into labor, or not dilated at all a few hours before delivering a baby) but on this day i was curious enough to find out. the midwife warned me that by merely checking, she could instigate some contractions, and i was fine with that.

3cm dilated (not very interesting) and 70% effaced (interesting!) i left the birth center knowing that this process i had been waiting for and reading about had started, and even in the car ride back from the birth center that afternoon, i started having contractions.  all afternoon those contractions were sporadic, sometimes over an hour or two apart, sometimes only 20 minutes apart but they definitely felt different from the braxton hicks contractions i had been feeling for months.

at about 8:30 pm that night erk and i decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. neither one of us brought a phone or watch or any other device to keep track of time, but it seemed to me that the contractions were becoming more regular, lasting for longer periods of time and because we had been out for over an hour, i was convinced that it was possible i had reached the 4-1-1 point our birth class had us trained to remember (when the contractions were 4 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute long and the whole cycle had taken place for 1 hour, indicating it was time to call/go to the birth center)

so i called, and the midwife on duty asked, "is this your first?" as if to say "are you over-anxious and don't you know first timers take forever anyway?" she assured me i had time. suggested that i download an app to keep track of the contractions, that they needed to be really regular and timed and that maybe i was being too active and that i should try and eat something and get some rest. when those contractions were truly four minutes apart, lasting for a minute in a cycle of at least an hour, then i should call her back.

ok, once the app was downloaded i sent erk to bed. i knew i could handle this early stage without him and that i would really need him rested for the harder work ahead. (i also know that when he is tired he is grumpy and when he is grumpy he is, himself, a large baby)

so i ate and i tried sleeping at around 10:30 pm using erk's phone to keep track of my contractions. i only slept for nine to ten minutes at a time because the contractions kept waking me up. at about 1am i was no longer trying to sleep, but trying to keep myself busy (catching up on email correspondence) while managing the now more intense, longer-lasting contractions (i had now established a favorite position to labor in: kneeling over that big red exercise ball i bought in college before i knew it was called a "birthing" ball by pregnant women). a little before 2:30am the contractions were sometimes lasting over a minute even though they were not consistently four minutes apart (sometimes six, sometimes three) but they were getting painful enough that i knew i was ready for help. i first called the birthing center "you want to come in and have us check you? ok, just give us an eta so we can be ready to send a nurse to let you in" i could tell she still wasn't convinced.

then i went to wake erk up.  he wasn't convinced either. "are you sure? already? what time is it?" he asked half asleep; he was also convinced that i was just being over anxious, but as he began to wake up more , he saw the look of certainty on my face. "i'm sure. it's time" and as i said the words i got so overwhelmed that i started to tear up; from excitement, from fear, from anticipation...not knowing that this was the beginning of a week-long roller-coaster ride of emotions.

erk popped out of bed, we grabbed our things and got into the car. the drive to the birth center was easy. there was no traffic, but some of the contractions were so intense i asked erk to stop the car until they had passed. i don't know why exactly, it was like, the world stopped during those contractions, or i was trying to make it stop...im not sure. we arrived just past 3am. a nurse came to open the door for us and i remember saying, "nice pants" before having the longest contraction of my whole labor. they were nice pants.

the midwife on call quickly checked me in the room she had ready for us.  only 4cm dilated - i was a little disappointed, i was sure i was much further along than that, everything was already so intense! she asked if i wanted to try laboring in the jacuzzi tub. i had been looking forward to this feature at the birth center. they say that the water and the jets are like a natural anesthesia. my experience was a little different. my first contraction in the tub was so uncomfortable. where was my exercise/birthing ball?! i didn't like the position of my body in the tub at all, the midwife reminded me that in order to adjust to a new position you should allow your body to have more than one contraction there. but i felt ready to puke. by the third contraction erk was in fact holding a puke pan out for me to puke into, which i did, successfully. before the fourth contraction i was ready to get out of the tub. i didn't care if it would get better, i wanted to be back on the ball.

sometime soon after, my midwife got switched out for another midwife. apparently there were more women having babies that night than anticipated, and so julie had been called in. i had only met julie earlier that day but had been meaning to meet her for months. i had taught her son and knew of her, but hadn't actually met her until a few hours before when she jokingly said "maybe i'll see you later tonight" here we were.

i had become dependent on erk to apply pressure to my lower back through each contraction, (another reason i didn't like the tub; i couldn't get his help the same way) but at a certain point even erk's full weight into my back wasn't enough.  julie suggested the pelvic squeeze we had learned about in class. it was amazing how helpful it was, until it wasn't, and i soon needed even more. for the next contraction both he and julie were doing the pelvic squeeze together; one on each side of my body pushing toward each other.  with each contraction it was as if they were literally making room for the baby to move down. (proof that they were literally moving my bones came days later when my hips felt bruised from all the pushing, but it was worth it at the time)

in all honesty, it's all kind of a blur, but i remember a couple of other key details.
1. at a certain point i said aloud "why do people do this without drugs?! why am i doing this without drugs?!!" (but the truth is, if i did it again, i would do it the same way- no drugs, in part because i now know what to expect)
2. at another point i asked erk to count through my contractions. not down...(i had no idea how long each would last). just up. he thought this was incredibly odd and he seemed embarrassed/hesitant every time i asked him, until once between contractions i angrily insisted, "don't make me ask you every time, just f*$#@g count!" (i was not feeling embarrassed or hesitant) and sort of like making him stop the car on the way to the birth center, i have no idea why this was helpful. it seemed to facilitate my concentration through each contraction.
3. close to the end two interesting things happened. i used a birthing stool through a couple of contractions which led to my water breaking...what a weird sensation! and i was so HOT that erk was putting ice cold cloths on my head and back and somehow it never felt like enough to cool me down. my body had never gotten so hot/worked so hard in it's life...

right before it was time to push i remember asking julie, "how will i know when it's time to push? will you tell me?" and she assured me i would know...i would have no choice but to push, my body would just do it. and she was right.  three intense pushes that i was sure were ripping my body in half and little m was almost out. in fact julie said, "wally (she didn't call him erk...or wally...) there's your baby's head, do you want to feel it? he was fascinated and said "yeah!". then i was asked; "no i don't want to feel it! i want to finish!"

and then came the hardest part (conceptually). they call it the ring of fire, but i didn't experience that exactly (or i don't remember) but when the baby is crowning a common practice to avoid both an episiotomy and/or any tearing is to wait a moment so that you use the baby's head to stretch you sufficiently before those last pushes. right when i was almost done julie said "ok, don't push" and my response was "are you kidding?!!" she had just told me i would have no choice but to push when it was time to push, and my body was telling me to push and my brain was telling me to push (so that it would be over) but she was telling me not to...it was probably only a moment but it felt like an eternity.

finally i got the ok to continue and then came that last push and her head quickly followed by the rest of her body came out.

at 5:34am on thursday july 4th little m was born.

the next part is not my favorite part of the story, but it's one of the most important parts, because it was something i was totally unprepared for.

i had been told that labor was hard (although i didn't know what that meant until i did it) but that after all that hard work, when your baby came out all the pain would disappear and you would become almost magically in love.

i did not have that experience.

i had never been in shock before so it took me some time to realize that that was what had happened. i had done so much reading about the wonders of childbirth that i had failed to recognize it as a trauma. (a beautiful trauma! but a trauma nonetheless) because my labor was so fast, i think it made the experience that much more intense; there was no time to process each thing that was happening as it happened.

for those first 24 hours i was not in love with little m. (i feel comfortable sharing that because i am so bananas in love with her now, but at the time it was terrifying.) "well, i like babies, so i am sure i will like this one" i tried to rationalize with myself. but the truth was that i was devastated to not have that love hormone instantly kick in, that feeling of being a MOM. what made the feeling both more prevalent and more bearable was witnessing how instantly erk fell in love with little m. on the one hand it brought to my attention the lack of feeling i had in contrast, but as i said, i was still in shock and i think it also helped ground me back into reality. it slowly started to sink in...we made a person.... what an unbelievable concept. and every day since i have fallen more madly in love with her.

waves

sometimes they are small
and steady.
there is something reassuring about the lightness with which one lifts
and releases you,
until another one comes to take you again

othertimes they can build to an unfathomably strong force
they will toss you,  and disorient you
you could drown in the chaos of its crash
but you don't.
you just make your way back to the shore, breathless and invigorated
and are reminded how wonderful it feels to be alive

arrival

remember the challenge t had given me of writing a 100 character story with the impetus of only a single word? several weeks ago she gave me the word "arrive". we have shared our struggles to live in the present and frequently talk about that theme in our lives . because its her 30th birthday, i thought it would be appropriate to write this one today, for her.

It is difficult to see if you try to look too far back or too far forward. Arrive to where you are. 

obsession

today i watched a highschool girl in running shorts and a tank top walk down the street in her sneakers. it looked like she had just been for a run. it seemed she was hot, or at least one might deduce as much by the way she rolled up her tank top to expose her flat teenage belly.

as she passed each car she paused for a moment to stare into the reflection of the passenger side window. without fail, she stared into the glass of each one. she was paying so much attention to her reflection that she failed to see where she was going. in front of one car she rolled her foot off the curb and tripped onto the street. a couple of cars down she walked into a pile of trash as she stared into her automotive mirror.

sometimes i question research

eli sent me an article with the following quote:

Research indicates that testosterone helps raise the threshold between emotional stimulus and the shedding of tears. "It helps put the brakes on," she says.

i know two things are true:
1. i cry more than any other person i know
2. i have a lot of testosterone for a woman

so, either i am a miracle of science, or some of the research we're doing isn't all that accurate

flowers

what is it about women and flowers? i love getting them. i think it has to do with my being a woman but i'm not sure. - most men are not given flowers; maybe if they were they would discover that they liked it as well.

just like my mother

it occurred to me as i was proudly dragging my butt up to the fourth floor of school for the 6th time in one day (instead of taking the elevator) that this silly pride in taking the stairs came from somewhere. and then i remembered my mother mentioning that she made a point of taking the stairs at her school where she also taught spanish- it was her main source of exercise in her almost senior status.

the same is true for me - except that i am not a senior.
but i am, like my mother, a spanish teacher...

it's funny how women talk about not wanting to grow up to be like their mother, and inevitably end up doing exactly that.

there are many ways in which we are different - but i think there are times that i am not only like her, but am somehow channeling her; especially in the classroom when i raise my voice to a student in a way that says both "i love you" and "shut the %*#@ up" simultaneously.

emotionally female

many of the pictures i post are not mine, but rather, ones i find on the internet. just type in a couple of key words and poof! a collection of images appear. this one came up on someone else's blog. I was compelled to read what was attached (what else is there to do when a moron wakes you up at 3:30 in the morning and you can't go back to sleep?)

this woman was blogging at length about how emotional she felt. how she cried even when her tamagotchi died (that's right, the little electronic toy pet from the 90's). and i thought, "why do people write so much?" i am a fan of the short film, short story, short blog post. i also thought, "is that how stupidly emotional i sound?"

don't get me wrong, i love being a woman and i understand first-hand how feelings can build quickly and in all kinds of misdirections but.... there is something seriously wrong with us.

aggressively female

crazy

people throw that term around a lot. i do as well. but recently, i've been feeling actually, for real, crazy. i suppose it's part of being a woman that my hormones rage at times, but i seem to be the only person in my family that is quite so hormonal.

i cry easily. i don't just mean during sappy movies (although i do that too) but in the thinking or telling of anything i have strong feelings about. and i seem to have a lot of feelings.

as i was treating myself to a lunch out, i saw two legitimately crazy people (that can happen a lot in new york - especially when outdoor seating is an option). one was a woman who had a cat on a leash and was mumbling to herself. her hair was disheveled and her t-shirt full of holes (looked like the cat's work). the other, was a man that had probably 15-20 layers of clothes on, including several pairs of shoes slung over each of his shoulders (a man i have seen for several years now roaming the upper west side). this man also frequently talks to himself.

as i considered both of these individual's states i couldn't help but feel incredibly sad. no, i didn't cry. and i realize that they are probably not interested in my sympathy (for all i know they might each be incredibly happy people)...and i guess i am only coming to understand why i felt so sad as i am writing this...

it seemed incredibly lonely to be in the states they were in. to live in a world that had little to do with the one actually around you.

i suppose that is what makes me feel "crazy" at times when i get overly emotional. i am aware that no one understands what the hell it is that i am so upset about. and because i am someone that thrives on interacting with people, i sometimes find that my feelings can get in the way of my ability to connect...

being an aunt

my brother's cat, ana, had been living with me for the past three months. that's her, poking her head out from one of the bedroom windows. she liked to go out onto the ledge and look at the pigeons flying by. she also liked to sleep on my bed with me, and wake me up at 5:30a.m. to feed her. she liked to pretend i didn't already feed her when i woke up a second time (for real) at 7a.m. she liked to shed her hair everywhere and she liked to leave the little pebbles of kitty litter that got stuck to her paws all over my apt.

as much as i bitched and complained about her at first, eventually i liked all the things that she liked. or at least, i became accustomed to those things, and liked her, specifically, as a pet. something about us both being female made our living situation work well. she seemed almost to feel more comfortable in my home than in her own with gaspar, my brother. but yesterday he returned from being away and took her back to his house. she whimpered as he put her in her carrying case. and because i'm her aunt (thus being a woman) - i whimpered on the inside too.

say what?

i just started reading this book and while some of the information is fascinating, some of it i have trouble with. first off, i don't love generalizations. i mean, i get why they are made- a majority ends up representing a whole. but sometimes it's just a common misconception that is doing the representing. take, for example, one of the facts quoted on the back of the book:

thoughts about sex enter a woman's brain perhaps once a day, but may enter a man's brain about once every minute.

i can't speak to the male statistic because i'm not a man (if you didn't already know), but i believe many things have to be taken into consideration when contemplating womens' sexual thoughts. first off - which woman's brain? where is she in her life? relationships? menstrual cycle? i guess like most people, my own statistics fluctuate. but sometimes it feels like sex is just the default setting for my brain. like a screen saver on a computer, if my brain is not actively engaged in something else, it just automatically rests is sex-thought mode. not all the time, but lots of the times.

and i'm pretty sure i'm not the only woman to feel that way (or something like that way). the women i've spoken to all laugh at the "perhaps once a day" quote. i don't know.... women, speak up! (men too).