AS WE SADLY KNOW, "children" are the often-unintended consequence of an otherwise hot sexual encounter. It's unfair, and yet? There they are. Suddenly running rampant through your house, destroying the delicate calibration of your stereo system, staining your vintage Eames lounge chair with yogurt tubes and fecal matter, and making insanely unrealistic demands to be "entertained," "fed," or taken to "school."

Worst of all, children are unrepentant boner murderers who psychically suck the sexual joy out of any healthy marriage. A Southeast Portland father of two, George (not his real name obviously, because of his bitter shame) explains:

"Before we had kids, my wife and I boned until the cows came home," George wistfully remembers. "But then the kids came. Don't get me wrong! I swear to god I love them more than life itself [Why do parents always add these patently false disclaimers?—Eds.], but the lack of sleep, partnered with getting them dressed, picking up toys, washing their clothes, breaking up fights, cooking them dinner, scraping up half-chewed food off the floor, getting them to bed, and preparing everything to do it all over again tomorrow? Answer me: When do we have time to fuck?"

If George sounds angry and defensive because he refused to wear a condom and is now paying the price—that's because he is. Unfortunately for George and millions of other young parents, he's made his bed and now has to lie in it. Without the possibility of nookie.

But even those parents who do enjoy the rare post-childbirth sexual encounter often find the experience marred by the probing, inquisitive eyes of (blechh) "children."

"At one point, I couldn't take it anymore," says frustrated parent Janet (also ashamed to use her real name). "I needed sex. So I plopped Toby [her three-year-old] in front of Finding Nemo and said, 'Daddy and I need a nap.' It was about five minutes later when Toby walked into our bedroom and saw my husband pounding me doggy-style. That was kind of hard to explain."

[I would have told Toby, "Son, this is as close as you'll ever get to having a puppy."]

As terribly pathetic as these stories are, there actually is a small glimmer of hope for George, Janet, and other parents in their sorry situation. But since the orphanages are full, here are some helpful hints for rescuing parental sexuality, culled from a variety of therapists, sexperts, and parents who learned their lesson the hard way:

• Adjust your expectations. Having sex whenever you want it is officially off the table. Therefore you can either masturbate more (nothing wrong with that), learn to love "the quickie" (and there is much to love—think closets, backseats of cars, random shrubbery), or plan your sex dates by booking a hotel room or sending the kids off with a relative, babysitter, or perhaps a compassionate friend. Or be like Janet, and shove 'em in front of the TV. Who cares? Their little brains are already mush. BUT PUT A LOCK ON THE DOOR. JANET.

• Stay sexy. Parents often have trouble switching gears from "upstanding moral father or mother of the year" to "hot 'n' horny porn star/filthy whore." Experts suggest a lot of kissing, flirting, touching, sending suggestive emails, and porn watching to keep your relationship hot and ready for that closet quickie. For those freaked out by anything-goes internet porn, Evy Cowan of the entirely excellent North Portland sex toy boutique She Bop (for women AND men) has these suggestions: "Check out films by Erika Lust, Tristan Taormino, or the 'Crash Pad Series' by Shine Louise Houston and you can't go wrong!"

• Toys! Embarrassed by the thought of using sex toys? Bury that feeling in the shallow grave where your boner used to be. Toys don't replace, they enhance—and children no longer allow you the time for an hour-long foreplay sesh. Things need to get wet, and quick! Cowan suggests a stimulating lube ("Sliquid makes some amazing organic lubes that will tingle and titillate!"), and shared toys such as the We-Vibe 3 ("This toy is inserted vaginally and can be worn during penetration, simultaneously stimulating the clit, G-spot, and penis.") That sounds hot. PRO TIP: Lock up your sex toys, dingalings. Toby is a goddamn snoop, and the next thing you know he'll be waving your dildo around at show and tell.

Until the federal government enacts laws that punish boner murderers the same as serial killers, young parents will simply have to have fun being creative and sneaky with their sexuality—until the kids are old enough, at which point you can return to fucking on the kitchen table. (Oh, you don't like that, Toby? MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET YOUR OWN PLACE.)