Like the Zoloft egg

I cannot see sweet little egg shapes without thinking of the old Zoloft ad where the little one hops around with a cloud over his head until the pharmaceutical industry takes it away.  Fortunately, sweet little egg shapes don't present themselves very often, but for the next few months, I guess they will.

We totally f-ed up the fertility monitor. 
It came and we were so revved up, waiting, improbably enough, for the lucky day when Heather's period would start and we'd be able to play with our new toy.  But remember how I was feeling tragic that I was doing the reading and Heather was looking to me to tell her what the books said?  Well, the latest book was the fertility monitor instructions.
The basics of our baby-making toy (no, the speculum will never be a toy to us, whatever the internet perverts might say) are this: you turn the sucker on the morning of your first bleeding (ugh-- this terminology has not gotten prettier), press a little italicized m button, and then turn the monitor back on every morning thereafter.  For the first 5 days, all you see on the screen is the m and the day of the cycle.  On the sixth day, the machine will ask for a pee-stick, and you will provide one.  That goes on for 10 to 20 days a cycle.

Let's say, however, the appointed manual-reader gets it into her head that, after hitting m the first day, you don't do anything at all, and on day 6 the machine will turn itself on and beep.  And then, her partner looks at the monitor and doesn't understand why it still just says m.  Result: Heather and I decided to hit the m button a lot till it got to day 5.  It only goes that high, and we were about 6 or 7 days into her cycle, so it didn't match up, but the alternative was just giving up the monitor for the month, and that didn't feel like an option.  Also, the final time we found ourselves fussing with the m button, it was 7 at night-- not the ideal "testing window" if that window is supposed to include the morning's first pee.

Now Heather pees into a cup every morning-- fact: in searching the house for an appropriate vessel, Heather found a perfect cup, only later realizing it was the measuring cup for our rice cooker-- and leaves it on the counter till she gets home and tests it in the window we've set.  Today, the measuring cup earned its keep when Heather got the cute little "ovulation egg" icon.

Awesome, right?