Multiple methods

I've mentioned before that I was recently diagnosed with Type II diabetes. No big deal. Easily managed. May be life altering, but not life ending. So, I went to see the diabetic nurse (their term, not mine) to get information about having to test my blood sugar and the medications I'm on...blah...blah...blah. I wasn't born yesterday and I was already pretty well informed. But, staying true to the uncomfortable nature of my recent medical appointments at the hospital she asked what form of birth control I was using. I told her that my husband and I are practicing abstinence since the two of us are rarely home awake at the same time without the kids around. The most action I've gotten lately was an impure thought about a certain actor that plays a vampire in a movie I like to call Oh My God! I Totally Wish I Was That Chick In Twilight. Go me. After composing herself, this nurse proceeds to tell me that we need to use MULTIPLE METHODS of birth control (apparently, abstinence isn't enough) because a side effect of one of the medications I'm on is pregnancy. (This little tidbit should have been on the fucking bottle...in fact, they can leave off the name of the medication and just put in large bold letters on the label THIS SHIT WILL MAKE YOU GROW PEOPLE!!! I had already been on this for 2 weeks!!!!!!!!) MULTIPLE METHODS. So, in addition to abstinence we should make sure that he's capped at all times and I'm dosing myself with Mirena AND a full months worth of the pill each day...you know...just in case his sperm can somehow get out of his body (and I don't want to know how), catch the cross town bus, break into the house, locate me and not have me beat to death each one of those fuckers, make it through multiple layers of clothing...just to find one of my old, decrepit eggs sitting on a porch in there and somehow get the old biddy to be warm and welcoming. (Ewwww...that's a mental picture that even I don't need) That's one powerful fucking medication.

Let me say...I love my kids. Until recently, I wanted one more. But, you know what? I have 2 gorgeous, incredible children and that is more than enough for me. I have my family and I'm done.

So...to add a couple more methods to this madness...the husband will be fixed (either by a professional in the hospital or by me at home...his choice) and I plan to have (as my friend likes to say) everything scooped out and have a sacrificial burning in the corner to make sure that God (or Mother Nature or Buddha or Allah or whoever/whatever you believe in) doesn't play any more jokes at my expense.