All rightie - I cannot let this pass....
It seems that SOME people who comment at this site think it's funny to insinuate that I might be carrying around a lil' embryonic passenger as a result of the recent Tiny House nuptuals and presumed hot monkey sex that is now occurring.
I do not find this thought terribly amusing. OK - the hot monkey sex part is amusing (wheee!), but the other part? Not so much..
Me being a mommy again, while it might make fan-fucking-tastic blog fodder, is a really daunting thought. Let me set everyone straight on why - if I were 10 years younger I'd still be an 'older mom.' Such older moms have all kinds of scary tests to take and hoops to jump through should they 'fall pregnant.' Older moms (and I'd be geriatric in the scope of mommydom) are at super-dee-duper (that's a medical term) high risk for having children with significant 'issues.' I am a weak woman; having a child with 'issues' would test my feeble strength, and cause my already melancholy bent to take a swift U-turn straight into hopelessness, I'm sure. This would not be a good thing, I think you all can agree.
Therefore, I am WELL beyond the age at which it's really smart to get one's self in the family way. You will, no doubt, be therefore relieved to know that 'protection' is being used against the unlikely possibility of being the recipient of a little bundle o' joy.
(Might I just say right now that IUDs rock the house? I love mine. Too bad it's reaching the end of its lifespan and will have to be yanked this year. If only the Ute had NOT sputtered, I'd be safely in 'no need for protection' territory in 4 months, but NOOOO, there's still life in the old girl yet and so now alternatives will have to be explored, dadgummit!)
All this 'oh hells NO' talk is not to say that if 1) there were a chance to get preggers with a lil' Spiffy that would be guaranteed to be fine n' dandy when it came out, 2) I was able to physically withstand said gestational period without blowing a vein, 3) we had the stamina, patience, and mental health to raise yet another child, 4) we could sell the Tiny House and find something with another bedroom and bathroom, 5) daycare bills would be somewhere in the line of ZERO DOLLARS, and finally 6) at some near future point I could afford the plastic surgery that will make me appear to be less shockingly ancient than I will once the kid is a few years old and I'm in my FIFTIES, that I wouldn't do it in a heartbeat.
Because have you SEEN the man I married? He's freaking adorable!!!! Also smart and kind and capable and cuddly and hawt, but the adorable is huge with this one. HUGE! It's enough to make my nearly comatose ovaries perk up and say 'estrogen', I tell you!!
One other enormous factor in the eschewment of reproduction, and it is big and important: We already have our own children. There are already people walking around ensuring that our genes will be around for at least another generation. They are great! Job DONE!
OK - confession time - We did talk about having another one, and both of us are admittedly slightly enchanted with the NOTION of combining genetic material and producing an offspring. However, it's simply not the World's Very Best Idea Ever for the aforementioned reasons, and also it's time to start living the Life After Children, which I hear is lovely and full of things like golf and vacations and Time To Read The Paper.
Plus which? I do NOT want to be the 65-year-old mother at her child's HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION! A little selfish, you think? Bite me, say I. We, my unborn third child and I, will not be a freak show for everyone else's stares and finger-pointing. Sure, it's fine for geezer MEN to have young kids (how virile!), but for geezer moms? Not so much. The phrase that pays in that case is 'how odd,' which is NOT the same thing as 'way to go man! You're not shootin' blanks and you have a fertile woman to ejaculate into! Woohoo!'
So no, LL and ETW. No to babies. No no no. No amount of adorable husbandness and 'wouldn't it be neat' can make me jump that particular shark.
Plus which? I'd have to quit drinking. I'm pretty sure we all realize that no good can come of THAT brand of nonsense.
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With that, I leave you to ponder all the TMI to which you've just been exposed. I'm off to grab another Diet Dr. Pepper and get back to work.
Have a wonderful day.
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