Thanks to Tracey, I now have a video that truly celebrates this posting:

I'm really sorry that I've been such a bad blogger lately. I do have an excuse that relates directly to my title. My house has been overcome by Sir Barfs-a-lot and his evil sidekick, Sir Poops-a-lot. It all started with C-dub having a projectile session early on Sunday morning and then Gunny following his lead with a midnight hurl last night. Hubby (who is still at home and recovering) and I have been cleaning carpets and doing endless loads of laundry, all the while keeping our fingers crossed that the stomach bug doesn't bite us in the - well, you know where. Literally.

And to be totally honest, my life has been rather boring lately without too much to comment on. The kids have been relatively sane and Hubby has been a huge help around the house since being home free from problem appendix. Other than the sporadic puking, I really have nothing to complain about, which really isn't like me.

I did have a momentous appointment on St. Patrick's Day. Without going into the gory details, it was an appointment I've re-scheduled over and over again for the past three years. I hate going to the doctor especially for this trip, the one I like to call "Bonazaesque" since I'm back in the saddle with feet firmly planted in the *cough* stirrups. Yes ladies, I'm talkin' about the dreaded visit where our girly bits are the star of the show. Where the doctor or midwife can't recognize you at the grocery store unless you're naked. It's the...dun, dun, dah!...glamorous pelvic exam and ever so pleasant sounding pap smear. Oh joy of joys, how I love this trip.

In honor of St. Patty's day, I almost chose to do a green glitter sort of theme but thought better of it in case the doc wanted pics. Or to test me further with more probing and needles.

Hubby doesn't understand why I dread these visits so much; after all, I look forward to labor and find my greatest accomplishment to be natural childbirth. I tried to explain to him while you're in terrific agony or under the influence of fabulous pain medication, you really couldn't give two schats as to who looks at your hoo-hah. Under the stone cold veil of utter sobriety, it's slightly embarrassing having another person break out the salad tongs and tell you to relax all the while asking you questions about your kids and what you're making for dinner that night.

Prior to the doc making her entry (not the best word to use, I guess), the nurse asked me several questions related to my personal life and history. When she got to the point of protection and what I used, my answer was simple;

Children and opposite shifts.

She looked at me quizzically but then wrote it down anyway. The she asked me me if that meant I was abstinent. My reply was:

Not by choice.

Yes, children who find your bed much more comfortable than your own and who enjoy watching a scary episode of Ghost Hunters prior to bedtime, provide an excellent form of birth control for poor parents like ourselves. And remember, after the birth of Gunny, we finally figured out what was causing these little curtain crawlers to keep showing up so we just stopped doin' it.

While the nurse was asking me questions, I could hear my cell phone vibrating. During this sensitive time of my life, Hubby took it upon himself to send me numerous texts asking about equipment temperatures, table positioning, and other vulgar things he thought hilariously funny. I can't wait for his first colonoscopy. I will be there, selling tickets while shooting video that will live streaming on this blog. Boo yah!

I know it was very bad of me to wait so long and I hope the rest of you have more common sense and courage than I did. It's really stupid to skip preventative appointments - even if you're a big fat chicken, like as myself.

Which appointment freaks you out the most? The dentist? Eye doctor? Any doctor?