No sex please, we're breeders

Bec's hilarious post about spelling (of all things) made mention of the fact I was happy to talk albino periods but not the appalling state of my sex life at the moment. So here we are. For starters, I can't get that 80s tune out of my head thanks to Salt 'n Peppa (I am SURE they didn't spell it the correct way. Surely) which seems fitting in a weird nervous twitch kind of way. My recent meltdown had Chef and quite a few others worry about me. That I'd fallen into the PND trap in one fell swoop. Fear not, I was just readjusting to the largely suckful existence that is trying to balance life, work, family, finances and everything else, all under the umbrella of - in the words of Academy Award winner Reece Witherspoon (that should win us a few hits) - "just trying to matter". But he voiced his concern better than anyone else: "What happened Poppet? We went from having sex during the day to you just crying a lot." Ain't life grand when you're a guy? But that really sums it up. You see, Chef and I are breeders. The type that can take the morning after pill and have a result called Felix. Who on being explained the concept of "peak fertility" fall pregnant that month and have a result called Oscar. Who being on the pill, endured one those seemingly endless traps where everyone in the family is either hacking up a lung, spewing forth bile, leaking out their collective arse or just incapably of moving due to joint pain for weeks and weeks on end, look at their spouse, make mention of the fact that it's a new year and no lovin' has been had, so have some to at least make the track record a little less embarrassingly bad and have a result called Jasper. I figure the return to a normal, infact better than normal, two of us at home/kids back at school using no.form.of.contraception was not only really stupid but also tempting Fate just that little bit too much. Combine that with a mild psychotic episode, returning to work and really, any excuse that you want to make up and insert (insert - geddit! teehehehehee) here and there is the crushing halt to any form of lovin'. I know Bec and Prof go at it like rabbits, but are Chef and I really the only ones abstaining purely through the reality of our life as opposed to some other domestic incident or marital disharmony? That is all. I can almost hear you all going for a shower and begging the bad lady to stop.