Congratulations Daddy on Number 3!

I love my children, I have not doubt that if I had more children, I would be ecstatic to have them in my life, but I am done, finito, finished, no more. Reality has checked me and I like having money the day after payday, I like sleep and I enjoy what is left of my sanity. Actually, this is what I said after #2 came along. I was well on the way to sending hubby off to get snipped when 2 things happened.

1) We moved to Idaho and my mother offered to watch the children, while hubby and I went off for a weekend alone. After 6 years of not being alone, we fell for it. Suckers.

2) I realized it would cost a lot of money to reverse a vasectomy, if at some point in the future, both my hubby and I suffered severe head trauma and believed we should have another child. So, my best friend in the world talked me into a Mirena (awesome birth control – with the terrible side effect of, “decreasing or eliminating” that time of the month). I scheduled an appointment to go to the OB's and for the next 5 years, it was gonna be easy street for us.

Except, we apparently missed our children so much on the above weekend, we managed to make another child. Yep, on my scheduled day of freedom, I had to call up the OB’s and cancel. I was so pissed off at the pregnancy test; I called my husband and asked him to come home. “No, I can’t I have work to do. Why?” “Well, I made a poster for you.” “What for?” “Um, I don’t know. Just come home.” “I can’t.”

I was pissed, why should I have to deal with this on my own? I did not want to tell him over the phone. So, I had made a banner sized poster, that said, “Congratulations Daddy on Number 3!” With babies raining down from the sky and the positive test strip taped to the side. I hung it across the front of our garage door.

About 30 minutes later, I hear the door slam and I am greeted with, “Ya, goddammned fertile myrtle!” He told me he had been sitting outside for 10 minutes banging his head against the steering wheel.

A few days later I called my OB’s to make an appointment for my pre-natal exam.

Receptionist: “What’s your name?”
DC: I gave her my full name.
Receptionist: Dead silence and then a... snort? “Well, that’s why you cancelled last week, isn’t it?”

(bitch)

I got my Mirena when my third child was 6 weeks old. I am not taking anymore chances.



Drink of the day:
Coffee Martini
1 shot: Malabar Gold
1 shot: Godiva liquor
2 shots: Skyy Vodka
(chilled)